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The Rise of the Drackens	By : StarLightMassacre Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 769600 -:- Recommendations : 73 -:- Currently Reading : 221
Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights for the creation of the Harry Potter novels go to J. K. Rowling. I make no money from this piece of fictional writing

Chapter List
- 39
- 40
- 41
WARNING! This chapter contains blood, gore, self-mutilation (non-permanent for medicinal purposes) and overbearingly sugary sweet cuteness later on.

A/N: The birth scene is not actually all that gory, well not as gory as the torture scene in chapter eleven, but it is very bloody. Harry is cutting himself open after all.

Dedicated to cyne, whose review helped me write nearly all of this chapter in one day.

Last Time

It wasn’t too much longer after he had finished his meal and he was cleaning his hands and neck of blood when a ripping in his abdomen had him doubling over his belly. It was time.
Harry burst into a flurry of activity, preparing himself for birth as he spread his body out over the floor of his nest, and tearing open his backpack to reach the things his baby needed, the things he needed. He would free his trapped baby from inside him by any means necessary. He wouldn’t let his baby die inside of him.

Chapter Forty – Welcome Baby Boy…Oh

Max grimaced as he peeled the covering away from his stomach. Harry had a hell of a reflex on him and he made a mental note to never get on his submissive’s bad side.

“How is it?” Draco asked as he sipped regally on a cup of coffee to wake himself up a bit more. He hated having the night shift, but he had lost the fight fair and square.

“Painful, I don’t think it went in too deep and luckily he hadn’t coated his claws in his venom, or I would have been in big trouble, but it still hurts and it’s bleeding quite a bit. This is the second covering I’ve had to change today. Harry must have an anti-coagulant in his claws.”

“Do different submissives have different properties to their claws?”

“Oh yeah, some submissives can kill you without ever having to secrete their personalised venom. Some submissive’s claws are inherently poisonous, some, like Harry, have anti-coagulants and can bleed you to death without having to cut too deep, some have extra sharp claws and some have wicked curved claws that are designed for maximum ripping damage.”

“Do any submissives end up killing their dominants?” Draco asked startled.

“Yep. But it is usually on purpose. Harry isn’t really trying to kill us, he’s just warning us away. Warning us not to come any closer to him, to his nest and his baby.”

“Why would a submissive kill their dominant?”

“Any number of reasons, but most are in defence of their children. If a dominant so much as verbally threatens a child, then the submissive will warn them off. If a strange dominant broke into our house and actually harmed one of Harry’s children then he’d be dead before he could apologise, no second chances, even if it was by accident. A submissive will kill the potential threat so they don’t have a chance to actually harm the child. Another reason I’ve heard of is if the dominant is abusive, because of the nature of dominants and submissives, with the dominant able to order around and control the submissive it would be very difficult for the submissive to get away from their abusive dominant, they would be forced to endure it and endure it and endure it and then one day, perhaps years later, they’ll just crack and lash out, often very violently and they won't stop until there is very little left.”

Draco swallowed. “Remind me to never piss Harry off.”

Max let out a throaty laugh, one which embarrassingly made Draco’s stomach clench and things a bit lower tighten and twitch. He hated that he was becoming sexually aroused by the other dominants, especially as it was only a damned laugh! Damn he had more control than this!

“Don’t worry, I don’t think Harry will kill any of us just because we piss him off, he’ll get stroppy and might shout and lash out with his fists, but he would never seek to kill us just for angering him. Just like none of us would ever kill him for getting stroppy or a tad bitchy now and then.”

“Do you need help?” Draco offered; though he wasn’t entirely sure why he had offered to do such a menial task as to change a wound covering, what if he got blood under his nails?

“Can you just get me a new covering please, Draco; my hands are a bit too bloody.” Max said as he indicated the blood on his fingertips.

“Sure.” Draco put his coffee cup down and went digging in the first aid box, pulling out the white covering. He ripped open the packet and pressed the new covering to the cleaned and sterilised claw marks, he held it there with one hand as he pulled out the surgical tape and secured it to Max’s skin, he never envied the bigger man when he had to change the covering and pull that sticky tape from the tiny hairs on his stomach.

“Thank you, Draco. Where are Nasta and Blaise anyway?”

“They went to feed Harry lunch, the little runt is eating more than we are.” Draco stated as he packed away the tape and threw the empty packet in the bin. He washed his hands thoroughly.

Max chuckled again and Draco cursed his libido. He was not some hormonal little girl, so he hadn’t has sex in a month or so, so he woke up every morning with at least three erections pressed into his body and his own erection throbbing. He was a Malfoy and he would control his own body!
All thoughts of sex flew from his mind when Nasta came in through the back door with a bloodied Blaise in his arms. Blaise had actually gone pale under his tanned skin.

“Oh, dear Merlin.” He breathed. “Did Harry do that?”

“Draco! Snap out of it and get the potions in the top cupboard. Max, get towels now.” Nasta snapped.

He laid Blaise on the kitchen table and Draco didn’t even mention that they had to eat off of it later, Blaise was more important; the table could always be washed…or replaced.
He grabbed the case of potions from the top shelf, only the strongest potions were kept up there and he knew then that it was serious.
Max came back with an armful of clean towels, he passed them to Nasta and opened the potions case, immediately administering the vials, rubbing Blaise’s throat strongly to help him to swallow. Blaise moaned in pain and Draco found his childhood friend’s hand, holding it and squeezing along with Blaise as pain seared through his body.
Nasta pressed the towels to Blaise’s stomach and they soaked through quickly. Harry had done some real damage.

“I thought he wasn’t aiming to kill us?” He gasped out as Blaise clenched his hand until the bones of his knuckles grinded together.

“Blaise got too close. I only just managed to get to Blaise before Harry tore out his throat.” Nasta explained as he calmly inspected the wound on Blaise’s stomach. “We need a Healer.”

“Loppy!” Max yelled.

A sharp crack filled the kitchen as a little house elf appeared dressed in a clean, rose pink, pillowcase. Her large brown eyes took in the scene before her with slight shock before she recovered herself and bowed to her Master’s grandson.

“Young Master Maxie called for Loppy?”

“Loppy get my Grandfather, get my parents and tell them to call Madam Pomfrey. Tell them it’s urgent.” Max ordered as he passed a topical paste to Nasta to apply to the wound which would hopefully help with the bleeding.

“Of course young Master, Maxie.” Loppy bowed and popped away again to do as bid.

“I hope she hurries.” Draco said as he watched as Blaise’s face went another shade paler.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

Harry was bewildered as he pulled out the little bottle of brownish-yellow fluid. It was important; something in the deep recesses of his human mind told him that it was important. Did he drink it?
A pain in his stomach had him screeching out and several rumbling growls answered. He felt reassured by those grumblings and he didn’t know why. The Drackens that had been getting into his space for what seemed like ages were now very far away and Harry felt confident that his baby would be safe if he brought him into the world.
He couldn’t remember what to do with the little bottle so he put it back down; he accidentally knocked it over as another ripping pain made his body jump and twitch. The brown stuff went all over his hands and he had no time to do anything about it. He rubbed his belly to sooth his agitated baby, reassuring his baby that he was still there, spreading the brown liquid over the expanse of his belly.
It smelt awful, it made him sneeze twice and it was irritating his nose badly, why was it so important? All it did was make his eyes screw up as he moved his claws to his belly, feeling around it gently, pressing delicately to feel where his baby was laying.
Another wave of pain struck him and he screamed, the high pitched sound startling birds from the trees. Those reassuring growls soothed him as tears cut down his cheeks without him noticing. How could something hurt so much with nothing physical to show for it?
Feeling for his baby’s head Harry carefully slid two claws into his flesh. It hurt and his body quivered with the need to move with the pain, but he held still, clenching his teeth together, the tips of his upper fangs biting into his bottom lip. He had to hold still or he could accidentally catch his baby with a deadly claw, a claw which was covered in his acidic poison. He could feel it numbing his skin where it touched, easing the sharp biting pain from where he was cutting.
Dragging in a deep, ragged breath, Harry carefully eased his two claws through the soft, meaty flesh of his belly, going through his body as easily as butter as his other hand continuously mapped out his baby’s body. His son had gone still, like he knew that this was a delicate part of the operation and that the slightest movement could ruin everything if he so much as twitched in the wrong direction.
Harry clenched his teeth as a fresh spark of pain almost had him jumping out of his skin as he spread his legs more and rebalanced himself on the balls of his feet. He continued cutting, knowing that every second counted as his nest flooded with blood.
He retracted his middle and ring finger claws when he reached the opposite side of his stomach, he inserted his index finger claw and delicately traced the bottom of the sac he could feel inside of him, he could feel his baby’s head through the thin membrane, pressing on it, wanting to be freed.
He felt for a safe place, even as the bad smelling brown liquid pained his open flesh, even as blood poured out of his body. He needed to be quick! Yet he couldn’t risk his baby’s life.
He felt a part of the sac that his baby wasn’t pressed down on and he inserted just the very tip of his claw into it and pulled. It was like a balloon had burst. A balloon filled with water as a clear fluid gushed out of that little rip, his claw tugging on the thin membrane, making it wider. He stopped when his gut clenched and his claw immediately, automatically retracted before he even knew what was going on, a moment later his finger touched something solid. His baby’s head. He had almost pushed a claw into his baby’s head.
Harry used his one hand to guide the baby’s head out of the slit he had made in the sac, his other hand pressing down on the top of his bump to expel the baby, he held his position as gravity also helped pull his baby out of his body.
He was shaking, blood coated thickly upon his lower body, hands and arms, his feet pooled in his own blood. Had he lost too much? He needed this baby out now, he needed the placenta out now, he needed to drink that bottle of blood now.
Harry ripped the membrane sac as he became frantically aware of how thickly the blood had plastered him, the membrane was thicker than he realised it had been and it had gotten stuck on his baby’s shoulders. He tore it and he let lose an almighty screech of pain as his body clenched tightly, even as his baby fell gently to the blood soaked, fabric padded ground, guided by his one hand on his baby’s head and shoulders.
Harry quickly clamped the umbilical cord and tore through it with a single claw; he wound the cord around his wrist and yanked it. The pain was unbelievable as he screamed until he felt his throat tear.
His baby was crying below him and Harry took reassurance from the sound, his baby was at least alive.
He dumped the placenta into the box and shoved the lid on it and he threw the entire box out of his nest, before he used a claw to take the entire top of the flask off and gulped down the lukewarm liquid. He would have preferred it hot. Hot blood straight from his mates’ veins, but this would do for now.
He drained the bottle of blood and threw it away, before digging in the torn backpack for the towels he had borrowed. He wrapped his baby in one and rubbed him vigorously to keep him warm and to stimulate his breathing. His baby stopped crying when Harry had finished and settled him over his heart.
Harry picked up another towel and began the slightly redundant task of cleaning the blood from himself, but as the duvet under him was soaked with blood every time he set a limb back down it was immediately covered in blood again.
Harry caught a corner of the duvet and pulled it up; he shifted himself to the blanket underneath and rolled the duvet up before flinging it out of his nest and down the side of the house. The blanket underneath it was also covered in blood, Harry rolled it up and it followed the duvet down the side of the house. Harry continued this until the fabrics were free of blood. He cleaned himself up and threw the bloodied towel out of his nest as well before he set to carefully cleaning his baby, taking extreme care with the clamped umbilical cord.
Harry dressed his baby, who was undeniably a boy, in a clean nappy and carefully maneuvered his little limbs into a bodysuit, before overlaying it with a sleepsuit before wrapping him in a blanket and placing him in the knitted cosy toes that Hermione had knitted and place him in the soft, cradle shaped mini nest that he had made to hold his baby as he cleaned up his nest and double checked everything was as it should be.
Once he was cleaned up and feeling a little less shaky, even if he was incredibly tired, Harry plucked his baby back up and held him against his naked chest. He inhaled deeply and smiled as the baby’s scent indicated that he was indeed a baby Dracken. Harry cooed to him and nuzzled his tiny little face.
His baby was bloated and swollen, red skinned and looked like he had been stung by a wasp and had had a bad reaction to it, but to Harry he was the most beautiful baby in the world. He held a tiny hand and kissed it, letting a soft rumble start in his stomach before ending in his throat.
His baby son made a small noise back to him and Harry moved onto his back, bringing his baby up onto his chest. He was still very, very sore and his stomach was still swollen and bumped, even if the bump was turning soft. Harry hoped it was gone soon, he’d had enough of seeing that bump when he was pregnant, he didn’t need to see it now that he wasn’t.
Harry held his baby tightly yet softly as the baby boy fell in and out of sleep on top of him, Harry knew that he should probably get some sleep as well, but he just couldn’t tear his eyes away from his son as he touched and stroked every inch of his baby, feeling the soft pink skin, the silky, baby fine, dark hair, those little lips, his tiny nose, but those eyes, those baby blue eyes that blinked at him, the way they were shaped, the baby definitely took the shape of his eyes directly from his Father.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

Nasta smoothed Blaise’s hair from his face as he tucked him up more firmly in the bed. Madam Pomfrey had cleaned him up to the best of her ability, which thankfully was enough so they could feed Blaise their blood and heal the rest of him. He hated the fact that Harry’s anti-coagulant was not affected by the healing properties of Dracken blood.
Everyone that had come in the initial panic had left them in peace, had left to give Blaise time to rest and recover, to give the three remaining dominants room to look after and pamper him.
Blaise would be out of it for a while as he recovered, but the most important thing was that he would heal. Nasta sighed heavily as he laid a kiss against Blaise’s head and let him sleep, Max had given him a strong sleeping potion.
He left Blaise to sleep with a sigh and went back downstairs to the other two dominants.

“How is he?” Draco asked concernedly.

“Sleeping.” Nasta answered tiredly.

“I think this has brought home the seriousness of this situation.” Max said sombrely. “We can't take stupid risks anymore, we need to feed Harry yes, but it’ll destroy him to come out of that nest and find out what he’s done to Blaise.”

“It was an accident.” Draco stressed.

“But will Harry see it that way?” Max countered and all of them slipped into silence.

A horrible scream broke them out of their thoughts and immediately all of them gave out a soothing rumble.

“Harry’s in danger!” Draco gasped out, making to run to his mate. Nasta wrapped both arms around him and held him tightly.

“He’s not in danger.” Nasta growled back. “He’s just gone into labour, the baby will be here in less than fifteen minutes, we need to prepare.”

Draco nodded and calmed himself down; everyone had been running over ‘the plan’ for a week. He immediately set to his role in the plan, which was making sure that Harry had clean clothes to wear, that a fresh bath was ready for him, with sufficient warming charms to keep the water hot, because he had been up on the roof for two weeks without so much as a shower, and he made sure that everything was easily accessible because Harry wouldn’t feel like doing much after giving birth.
Max was setting out potions of all kinds for any sort of problem including a fever reducer, just in case, a strong antibiotic potion just to make sure there was absolutely no trace of infection, a blood replenisher, because he’d definitely need one, and a topical salve that would reduce scarring if Harry hadn’t taken the blood in time. He then set to making a hearty meal; Harry would most definitely be hungry when he came down from the roof.
Nasta was floo calling everyone to inform them of the situation and then he was going to make sure that the nursery was all ready and clean for their baby. He also took on Blaise’s job of making sure there was nothing out of place, because the last thing any submissive Dracken wanted to see was mess. They had been curbing their messy tendencies for a few days, so there wasn’t really much to put away, just a few odd books, a pair of shoes, Max had, of course, left his work case by the coffee table from where he had been doing his paperwork that morning and he flicked the corner of the rug back down from where it had been kicked up.
Harry wouldn’t have to worry about a thing, everything was ready for when he gave birth, bonded with the baby and then came down from his nest in a couple of hours’ time. All three of them gave periodical winces and soothing growls as a particularly loud scream or screech of pain met their ears. It was painful to listen to; no doubt it was even more painful for Harry to endure.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

Harry snuggled his baby son, who was looking a lot less like he had had an allergic reaction to a bee sting and he was definitely a lot less water wrinkled.
Harry now had his son’s scent locked in his mind and ingrained in the deepest, most primitive part of his brain. He would be able to track his son to the ends of the earth, not that his baby son was going anywhere without him, not ever.
The Dracken scent that had surrounded his son had dispersed within the first half an hour, but the scent of himself and one of his mate’s remained on his son’s skin, his son’s biological Father.
Harry knew his time alone with his son was coming to an end, he could feel his mates’ restlessness like something thick on the back of his tongue. They were anxious to meet the baby, they were anxious to reconnect with him after however long it had been.
He sighed and finished feeding his son his first bottle, burped him awkwardly and a tad cack-handedly before he let out a small, questioning call. Immediately several strong answering calls cut through the soft day noises and the sound of rushing wind as three large bodies landed on the roof.
Harry smiled happily as Nasta entered his nest and pulled him into a big hug, being so very careful of the tiny body between them.

“It’s good to see you, Harry.” Nasta breathed almost silently as the others all crowded around him and the baby, sniffing and licking. “We’re so proud of you, cariad.”

“He smells like…” Max started as he inhaled deeply.

“I know.” Harry answered with a smile, but it faltered when he realised that someone was missing. “Where’s Blaise?”

Nasta, Max and Draco all shared a look and Harry grew frightened. Had Blaise left? Had he been hurt? Killed?

“Where’s Blaise?!” Harry demanded shrilly.

“He got injured, Harry love. He’s just sleeping.” Max said softly, cupping the back of his head and pulling him forward to rest against his chest.

“Injured how?” Harry asked, though he could take a guess as to how Blaise had gotten injured and he had a feeling that he had been the cause.

“It was an accident, Harry.” Draco assured him as he sniffed, licked and touched his baby in Harry’s arms.

“How did he get injured?” Harry repeated.

“Let’s get down off of the roof first, love, then we’ll tell you everything that has happened in the two weeks you’ve been up here.” Nasta said firmly, leaving no room for argument as he scooped Harry up and instead of jumping from the roof like Max and Draco did, he opted for the smoother way of flapping his wings before he took off. It was slower, but much safer and less jarring for a newborn baby.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

Ashleigh huddled against her most dominant mate as the young woman in front of her shielded the small baby from her. Snarling as if she would suddenly up and attack her and the baby.
Amelle had finally given birth to her daughter, Eleonora Dahlia Seppen after spending nearly two months in her nest. Ashleigh thought it was a beautiful name, if only she was allowed to see the beautiful baby that the name had been given to. Eleonora was a few weeks old, she was a magic human if Caesar was to be believed, though Ashleigh prided herself on knowing her son and she knew he wouldn’t have need to lie about something like that.
Caesar was growling at his mate and trying to get his daughter from her, presumably to hand to her to show his mate that she meant the baby no harm, but Amelle had clamped her arms around her baby daughter and was not letting go.

“Stop it!” Ashleigh cried. “Caesar don’t force her, you’ll hurt the baby. It…it’s fine, really.”

Myron held Ashleigh closer to him and glared at his son’s mate. His Wife did not deserve this! She had been through a terrible ordeal, that didn’t make her deranged, unstable or dangerous! She had gone through therapy, she was fine, she wasn’t going to hurt a baby just because she had lost one of her own. The way this little brat was acting made his blood boil, but he calmed himself, he would never strike a woman, not even his own mate, his preferred method of punishment was a simple, sharp twist to the top of the ear. If his mate persisted, he held on as he twisted the ear. But the anger he felt at this woman and her treatment of his Wife, he wanted to curl up his large hands into fists and beat her.
Richard slid an arm around Myron’s bicep, as if he knew what his Husband was thinking. He was thinking similar thoughts, only his were more along the lines of boiling her alive in tar before coating her dead body in feathers and stringing her up for eternity so everyone would know that she was an eternal chicken, nothing but a lowly coward, unwilling to have a bit of faith in a good woman.
Richard hissed, but Ashleigh shushed him. She was being selfless, he could see how much it was hurting her, her first ever Grandchild, her first Granddaughter and she couldn’t even see her let alone hold her. It wasn’t fair. Caesar and Amelle had been here for two days and none of them had been allowed to see Eleonora, let alone hold her, Amelle was not letting go of her daughter.

“Amelle, we haven’t come half way across the world just to fight.” Caesar said strongly. “Our two week old daughter deserves to know her Grandmother!”

“No!” Amelle snarled viciously, turning tail and running to her and Caesar’s room, in his parents’ house that she had been forced to come and visit, slamming the door in her mate’s face and locking it. She whipped out her wand and warded the door so not even Caesar’s physical strength could open the door before curling up on the bed, her precious baby girl held safely in the curve of her body. She wouldn’t let any harm come to her baby, she’d die first.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

“Mum, I’m really sorry.” Caesar sighed sadly as he walked back into the living room. He felt so ashamed of Amelle in that moment and he felt guilty for being ashamed of her.

“It’s alright, Caesar.” Ashleigh answered, going to him and hugging him to her. She hated seeing her children upset.

“It’s not though, I love Amelle, I do, but I hate the way she’s acting and no amount of punishment helps.”

“It’s because she feels that she is doing the right thing to protect her child.” Myron spat. “No amount of punishment can break a parent’s instinct to do right by their child.”

“But it isn’t right, Dad!” Caesar answered sadly.

“She believes it’s right.” Myron reiterated.

“Mum! Dad!” Alayla came skidding into the room and almost toppled over her own feet in her haste, being caught just in time as Richard darted to catch her.

“Do be more careful, Alayla.” Richard wheezed out. Strong emotions, especially anger or sadness, always made the scar tissue on his neck tighter and made it more painful to speak.

“But Nasta just flooed us! Harry’s gone into labour; the baby will be here soon. He wants us to come around in a few hours to welcome the baby.”

“That’s if Harry lets me near the baby.” Ashleigh sobbed brokenheartedly.

Caesar let his Dad’s take his Mum from him, though all he wanted to do was hold her and make her feel better, he hated that his mate, his Wife, the Mother of his daughter, had done this to his her. He was going to step up his dominancy over her, Eleonora was his daughter as well and it wasn’t just Amelle who got to decide who saw their daughter and who didn’t.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

Harry was led into the bathroom. He had refused to let go of his newly born son for a single moment, his mates hadn’t even held their son yet, as such he had decided to bathe with his baby, but he had allowed Draco to come with them and Harry allowed him to wash him from head to foot, because the blond didn’t trust him to do it himself properly and Harry didn’t much care for personal hygiene at the moment.

“What are you going to call him, Harry?” Draco asked gently, trying not to push as Nasta and Max had warned them that as Harry had only recently slipped out of his feral state, the slightest push could send him feral and aggressive again.

“I don’t know. I never really thought of names, even when I knew he was going to be a boy I never thought of names, does that make me a bad Mum?”

Draco chuckled and kissed Harry lingeringly.

“No, love. It just means you had other things on your mind. Though it would have been hard to pick a name when you had no idea who the potential Father was.”

“He’s so beautiful.” Harry breathed reverently as he just stared endlessly at the baby cradled in his arms.

“Of course he is, he takes after you, love.”

“Really? I thought he looked more like Blaise.”

“The eyes are Blaise’s, but that is definitely your nose and your mouth.”

Harry smiled up at Draco happily and kissed him again. He had missed them all so much. He couldn’t remember his time in the nest, or rather he could, but not clearly, it was the same on his heat period, he could remember bits and pieces, but nothing substantial. But he did know that he ached for his mates. He couldn’t believe that he had hurt Blaise so much. He had demanded to know what had happened and when he had been told he had gone straight to Blaise, the Father to his first child. Well, he had had to be carried as he was so very sore still, but Max’s potion was going to help with that as soon as he had had something to eat.
He had stroked Blaise’s face, looking for similarities between the man in the bed and the baby in his arms, he found them too. His baby was undeniably Blaise’s even without the initial scent of just himself and Blaise on the baby, which had now started to include the other three mates as they licked and rubbed themselves on the baby’s skin.
Draco had whisked him off not too long after that for a bath whilst Max finished up a late dinner. Harry was dried and dressed in soft, clean pyjamas, the feel of fabric on his skin felt strange after two weeks without wearing anything but his skin.
The baby was dried so very carefully between them, taking such care with the umbilical cord and once again he was clad in a nappy and dressed up in a bodysuit and a sleepsuit, scratch mitts firmly on little hands and little hat pulled down over dark downy hair as he was slid once again into the cosy toes that Harry had taken to carrying his son around in.
Harry went into the kitchen only to be surprised to see Max’s entire family, including Caesar, congregated around the enlarged table, numerous chairs added around it as Max served them all food.

“Harry, sweet one, well done and congratulations!” Alexander Maddison, Max’s awesome Grandfather, called out, having been the first to spot him.

Everyone else turned to him and shouted out their own congratulations and Harry grinned, albeit a bit tiredly, but then he had cut himself open to birth his son only a few hours ago.

“So tell us, is Maxie the baby’s Father?” Alexander asked.

“No. Blaise is.” Harry answered as he was helped into a chair and tucked to the table with his son in his arms.

“Oh well, maybe next time then aye, Maxie? Maybe you should get in there quicker the next time around.”

Nearly everyone choked on their lasagne, except for Harry who started laughing and couldn’t stop.

“Oh ow! It hurts.” He whimpered, pressing a hand to the incision site.

“Eat as much as you can and then you can have potions to help.”

“Give them to him now!” Alexander chided. “You can't blackmail the poor boy with pain potions to make him eat, Maxie. That won't put meat on his skinny chicken bones.”

Max rolled his eyes good naturedly. “These potions can't be administered on an empty stomach, Grandfather. It’ll make him sick and give him stomach cramps.”

Harry tucked into the first hot meal he had eaten in weeks and he couldn’t hold back the small moan that rolled out of his throat at the first bite. He had missed Max’s cooking.

“There’s appreciation for you, Max!” Caesar ribbed with a smile that was only fifty watts instead of his usual hundred.

Harry blushed, but as soon as his son made a small noise, all of his attention immediately diverted to the baby in the crook of his right arm. His son was still sleeping peacefully. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

“Have you decided a name for my Grandson?” Myron asked even as he cut off another forkful of lasagne and placed it in his mouth; he’d never get over how good a cook his son was nor stop wondering where the talent had come from.

“No, not yet.” Harry answered back softly before biting into some garlic bread.

“Well hurry up, we can't go around calling him Baby forever.”

Harry smiled, which turned into a yawn, which made his eyes water. His energy was flagging quickly.

“Here, you have enough in your stomach to coat it for the potions.” Max told him as he studied how much he had eaten before passing over three uncorked vials of potion.

One was grey and watery, the second was green and marginally thicker that the first, but it tasted slightly better than the grey one had and the last was a dull yellow and had the same consistence of four-day-old, lumpy custard. It smelt vile, tasted worse and it slimed its way down his throat slowly. Harry hoped to every deity he had ever heard of that he never had to take it again.

“To bed with you, Harry boy!” Alexander shooed him and Harry chuckled, only a slight twinge in his stomach let him know that he really was going to be sore for a while.

“Are you leaving the baby down here with us?” Nasta asked.

Harry immediately shook his head. “He’s staying with me.”

His mates nodded understandingly, but Ashleigh looked very upset.

“Don’t let my presence influence your decision, Harry; I’ll leave if my being here bothers you.”

Harry cocked his head to the side and looked at the upset woman curiously. He felt the urge to shield his baby from her, to run and hide with his son so that this woman couldn’t see him but he shoved it down violently as he moved forward and slowly and carefully eased his son from against his chest and transferred him into a surprised, but elated Ashleigh’s arms.

“Why would you being here bother me? It never has before.” He asked as he stretched out his arms and rotated his shoulders to ease the ache in them, his son did get quite heavy after a while and not being able to move his arms as he pleased made his muscles stiff.

He turned and went to get a drink of water as Ashleigh cooed and kissed his son, giving them some space to prove that he didn’t mind her holding his son, her first Grandson, even if it hadn’t been Max who sired him. It looked like he wasn’t going to get an answer to his question.
His Dracken screamed at him to get back to their baby, to attack Ashleigh and get their son back where they could protect him, to hide from Ashleigh so she couldn’t find them, but he shoved the urge down even further. It screamed at him that she was a danger and Harry stubbornly refused to listen. Ashleigh was a lovely woman and she wouldn’t hurt his children, his senses must have been screwed from the trauma of his self-caesarean section, he’d asked Nasta about it later.
He finished his water and yawned widely behind his hand again. He hugged everyone, leaving Ashleigh for last so she could cuddle his son some more, before he hugged her and took his baby back, he waved goodnight and headed upstairs to bed. If Myron had hugged him tighter than normal and for longer than usual, nothing was said, if the loving, lingering kiss Richard had given to his forehead was out of place, no one mentioned it. Harry certainly noticed nothing as he laid his baby son in the bassinet by his bedside and climbed in beside Blaise, who was still out of it on sleeping potion and didn’t even know that he had a biological son who was sleeping just feet from him. Harry felt guilt consume him, he had done this to Blaise, he was a terrible mate.

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Max washed the mountain of dishes as Draco saw everyone out safely. Nasta was drying and putting away the plates and cutlery next to him.

“We have a son.” Max said slightly awed.

“Is it just sinking in?” Nasta asked as he dried the last cup and placed it away, turning with the tea towel draped over his hands.

“I think it is. Seeing my Mum holding him, she was so upset because Amelle, Caesar’s Wife, wouldn’t let her near Eleonora.”

“She must be a real piece of work.”

“She is.” Max replied as he emptied the sink of water and dried his hands on the tea towel that Nasta held. “But I can't believe he’s really here.”

Nasta smirked and bent forward to capture Max’s lips in a kiss. They broke apart slowly.

“Harry has been nesting for how many weeks and you only just accept that we have a baby.”

“I think it’s just seeing him for the first time, he’s so tiny, so beautiful.” Max whispered softly as he pulled the tea towel from Nasta’s hands and threw it around his shoulders instead, using it to pull Nasta into another, more passionate kiss.

Their mouths worked against one another, their tongues stroking and pressing as hands moved to shoulders and arms, caressing and squeezing.
Max tried to take the dominant role by backing Nasta up against the countertop, but Nasta broke the kiss, hooked the backs of his thighs, twisted their positions around and had him sitting on the counter before he could even formulate a way to counteract Nasta’s moves.
He opened his mouth to complain, or perhaps to whine, but Nasta’s tongue was suddenly in his mouth and such amazing sensations took over his body as that tongue flicked against the roof of his mouth. He let out a small sound, meaning it to be in protest of his treatment, but it came out as a needy little moan instead.
Nasta’s hands squeezed the tops of his thighs and Max made another small sound, this one wasn’t even close to being a protest as he wound his fingers through Nasta’s ear length hair, knowing the older man hated having messy hair, but Max couldn’t resist running his fingers through the pitch black, floppy strands of hair.
Max pulled Nasta’s tee-shirt from his back; forcing it over the older man’s head and making him pull his arms out or suffer with cut off circulation to his arms as the fabric dug into his biceps. Max discarded the fabric and grinned at the glaring older man.
He pulled his own shirt from his body, but Nasta pushed him backwards just as his head came free of his shirt and the back of his skull thunked against the kitchen cupboard whilst his arms were still caught by fabric.

“Ow damn it! What was that for?”

“For trying to pop my arms off with my shirt.”

“So you bash my head against a cupboard?”

“Would you have rathered it if I had sunk claws in you?” Nasta threatened softly as he looked up at Max lustily, his dominance coming through and dragging a small sound out of Max’s throat. “I didn’t think so.”

They came together for another kiss, all teeth and tongue as hands explored the newly revealed flesh, pinching and twisting nipples and scratching nails over taut stomachs and sides.
Nasta removed one hand to undo the button on the top of his jeans, lowering the zipper and stepping out of the tight, restricting fabric, pushing his boxer-briefs down with them. He moved to Max’s jeans and undid them, but Max reared back when he made to remove them.

“You’re not seriously considering that we have sex here? On my kitchen counters?!” He demanded.

“Harry and Blaise are in bed with the baby.”

“I have two spare bedrooms!” Max pointed out. “And two living room settees for that matter!”

“I don’t want to risk waking the baby by going upstairs and I’d rather not be caught in the act by anyone coming through the floo.”

“Silencing charms!” Max yelled out, even as his boxers went past his knees to join his jeans with Nasta’s on the floor.

“Don’t worry, I plan to use them.” Nasta chuckled darkly as he reached out a hand to where he had placed his wand on the adjacent counter, he waved it to silence the kitchen and cast another one to lube his hand. He hated using the conjured stuff, it just wasn’t as good a quality as store bought lube and it was used up quicker, usually before those using it had finishing needing it, but he was sure that Max could handle a bit of friction.

Nasta smeared himself with the excess lube, leaving what was on his fingers as he trailed them up Max’s leg.

“We are not doing this on my kitchen counters!” Max replied adamantly as he moved to get off the counter.

“Who says I’m giving you a choice?” Nasta answered as he pushed Max backwards, thrusting his tongue into Max’s mouth at the same time his fingers slid deep inside of him.

It was an awkward angle for him to work, but Nasta did his best. He was adamant that he would take Max here, if only because the other man didn’t want him to. Besides it was the only room in the house except for the nursery that they hadn’t christened yet, largely due to Max’s love affair with it, it deserved some love as much as the next room and as Harry had told them that if he so much as caught a sniff of sex in his baby’s nursery he’d kill them they had discounted the thought of christening the nursery very quickly.
Nasta methodically prepared Max whilst simultaneously distracting him with kisses and bites, strokes and odd squeezes. When he felt that Max was prepared enough he removed his fingers and pulled Max more to the edge of the countertop.
Max made a startled noise, but before he could say anything Nasta had already smoothed out the lube on himself and slammed himself fully into Max’s body. He buried his face in Max’s shoulder as the tight muscles clenched him tightly, he could feel Max hunching over his head, his breath on the back of his neck as his hands gripped at his shoulders to ground himself.
Nasta slipped his own hands from those strong thighs to wide hips and began moving slowly, spreading the lube so his passage was smoother, before he really started thrusting, biting into Max’s neck to leave his mark. He hadn’t had sex in a month, after getting sex regularly since that first time with Harry he felt positively starved, he had been spoilt by his lovers.

“Nas.” Max breathed out. “I’m not Harry, I’m not a submissive, I can take it harder.”

Nasta grinned against Max’s neck where the other man couldn’t see it as he took his lover at his word and slammed into him, pushing his hips that extra bit harder, inflicting that small bite of pain with his powerful thrusts that had Max rearing his head back and moaning as large hands clenched his shoulders tightly, giving him back some of that pain that had him biting his own tongue to keep from making a noise.
Nasta kept his thrusts powerful, but sporadic, not giving Max a chance to gain back his equilibrium, keeping his lover on the edge, alternating the length of his thrusts and the depth, loving how he made the other man writhe and rendered him unable to speak, as every time he opened his mouth to talk all that came out was a moan or a surprised gasp as Nasta either hit his prostate or caressed his manhood.
The erratic and irregularity of his thrusts had Max reaching orgasm much quicker than he usually would have and the alternate clenching of Max’s inside muscles and the harsh grip he had on his shoulders forced a pleasured grunt from Nasta as he kept thrusting, trying to stave off the inevitable for a little longer, but he lost out as one last thrust threw him over the edge and he released himself inside of Max with another grunt of ecstasy.
He remained inside of Max as they both caught their breaths before he pulled out slowly and carefully, twitching as Max writhed in pleasure as he did so.

“I’m going to be sterilising this counter all night.” Max whined tiredly.

Nasta chuckled. “Go to bed, Max.”

“I can't believe all you can think about at the moment is the counters.” A guttural voice spoke up from beside them.

Nasta looked over to a partially naked Draco, who was sat in a kitchen chair lazily stroking himself through his pushed down boxers, his recent release on his naked chest and stomach through his opened shirt which was hanging off of his shoulders.

“How long have you been there?” Max asked, his cheeks flushing a bit.

“About the time you started having a hissy fit over having sex on the counters, you do know that I fucked Blaise on them about a week ago don’t you?”

“You did what?!” Max yelled. “Did you at least wash them down afterwards?”

“No. We were too tired to do so and the next morning you had already started breakfast, so we thought it best not to say anything.”

Max mouthed uncomprehendingly for a few moments before Nasta took pity on him and kissed him.

“He’s teasing you, love. Draco, you shouldn’t say things like that to poor Max, he might have suffered from heart failure.”

Draco chuckled and wiped his hand on his discarded shirt, using it to also wipe up the mess he had made on his chest and stomach.

“You had better not have gotten anything on my table.” Max threatened.

Draco laughed this time, such a smooth, cultured sound, made sexy by the hint of a growl from his own pleasure.

“Give me some credit, Max. I’m a Malfoy. Malfoy’s don’t make messes like that.” Draco answered, picking up his clothing and smirking to the two watching men. “I’ll see you in the morning.

“Where are you going?” Max demanded.

“To claim the prized spot next to Harry in the bed of course. Blaise has one side, I want the other.”

Nasta shook his head and let out a chuckle. Draco had certainly become more confident in the last few months and it wasn’t the false confidence that he layered up as armour either, but a natural confidence that spoke of his comfort with them all.

“Going to claim the prized spot.” Max scoffed. “His ass is mine.”

“Be gentle with him, love, he’s new to bottoming, it’ll only be his third time, we don’t want to frighten him or scare him away. We can go easy on him until Harry goes into heat next, then his ass will be both of ours.” Nasta promised.

Max chuckled darkly before he kissed Nasta and scooped up their clothing. He could leave the counters until the morning, he was going to be the one making breakfast anyway, he wouldn’t soon forget what had happened on his counters, so he wasn’t likely to forget to disinfect and sterilise the counters before he started cooking tomorrow.
They cleaned themselves up a bit in the bathroom before they slipped into the bedroom, closing the door behind them. They each peeked into the bassinet holding their son, swaddled in a blanket and sleeping peacefully, before they shared one last kiss before climbing into the bed, Nasta behind a potion laced Blaise and Max behind Draco, who shifted around to get comfortable, Harry deeply asleep in his arms.

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The Rise of the Drackens