Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Lifetime Decisions	By : Sasunarufan13 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 11408 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor make any profit from it. J.K. Rowling owns it

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Author's note: Here I am with the fifth chapter :) Thank you for your continued support, guys, I really appreciate it! The chapters turn longer again as well.
Thanks to the following reviewers: Olivia; Hestia; Jan; djaddict
Warnings: light smidgen of angst; shift in povs
I hope you'll like this chapter!

Chapter 5
Living at Malfoy manor was … interesting. That was the only adjective that could properly describe Harry's opinion about his new living arrangements.
True to his word, Draco had shown up after the Aurors had ended their interrogation and had insisted on helping him pack his bags, claiming he needed to rest as much as possible and that he shouldn't strain himself. A Stinging Hex had been his reply and Draco had backed off a bit, not wanting Harry's temper to flare up.
It was now two weeks since he had moved in and he was now twenty-three weeks pregnant. He had been giving a separate wing, one floor above Draco's. Harry had protested when the rooms were shown to him, insisting that he was fine with one small bedroom. Narcissa had looked at him in shock, as if she couldn't understand how he could possibly be fine with just one room. Because he hadn't wanted to hurt her feelings, he had given in once it became clear that she wouldn't back down and kept insisting he needed an entire wing for himself.
He hadn't stepped inside in any room, aside from his bedroom. When he had been given the tour, he had seen that the other rooms consisted of one private library, two rooms that seemed to act as some sort of living room (why he needed two of them, he didn't know), a large bathroom and the last room was a nursery.
The last room had made him freeze for reasons he still didn't understand. He guessed he hadn't expected to find a nursery on his floor. After all, all he had to do was carry the baby, give birth to it and then Astoria would take over, so there was no need to have a nursery near him.
Currently he was soaking in the large bath tub after having spent a whole day in the hospital, teaching the students the differences between the various potions and pastes created for healing burns. Afterwards he had been locked up in his office, going through his files to make sure everything was filled in correctly.
He had been glad to arrive in his bedroom when the day was finally over for him. He wasn't really tired, but the band hiding his protruding stomach had been irritating him since he had eaten his lunch and he had sighed relieved when he finally got to take it off after arriving at Malfoy Manor.
He barely had had the time to dress into some comfortable slacks and a light sweater when a house elf had appeared, announcing it was time for dinner.
Harry grimaced when he was reminded of dinner. So far all the dinners he had shared with the Malfoys had been awkward at best and strained at worst. Lucius tended to ignore his entire existence, which suited him just fine. Draco and Narcissa did their best to include him in their conversation, in which they usually succeeded because they reminded themselves to keep to topics Harry was either interested in or at least knew enough about to discuss about it.
Astoria however …
When Draco told him everybody was fine with him moving in, Harry had had the feeling that the blond had been a tad too optimistic and he had been proven right. Astoria really didn't like his presence in the manor.
Oh, she was polite when she talked to him, but Harry could practically feel ice blocks forming around them every time they interacted and he wondered if the rest of the family was just clueless or preferred to ignore her attitude.
Was her icy attitude towards him all because he was carrying her husband's baby? He would have made that assumption, weren't it for the fact that she had always acted coolly towards him. From the moment they had been introduced she seemed to have taken a dislike towards him and her attitude had only grown worse the moment he had fallen pregnant.
Sighing, he stepped out of the bath tub and – dripping on the rug lying in front of the big bath – he reached over to grab a large, soft towel and briskly dried himself. Wrapping the towel around his hips, he entered the large bedroom through a door connecting the two rooms. In order to reach his wardrobe he had to pass a large mirror and he abruptly came to a halt when he caught his reflection out of the corner of his eye.
He turned around and stared at his half naked reflection, his attention caught by his stomach. Until now he hadn't paid much attention to his stomach; the only times he thought of the life he was carrying had been when he had been attacked or when he had to go to his check-ups. Most of the time however his mind was occupied with other things.
Thus he hadn't noticed how much his stomach had grown already.
Without the band creating the illusion of a flat stomach, Harry was free to study his rounded belly and hesitatingly his hands drifted to his protruding stomach and after hovering above the skin for a long moment, he finally touched his stomach, his hands following the curve of it.
It was kind of weird. For so long he had been used to feeling a flat stomach and now it was rounded, feeling very soft to the touch. Was this how all women felt once their stomachs started to grow?
Abruptly he snatched his hands away and crossed the room to his wardrobe, picking out a white T-shirt and dark blue, long pants to wear to bed.
The T-shirt, which had been bought a year ago, was stretched around his stomach, showing off the roundness of it and he stared at it, one of his hands already drifting back to touch his stomach, before he sharply turned around and pulled on his dressing gown, deciding a quick walk through the large garden would clear his mind.
Why his mind felt troubled after touching his stomach was something he ignored.

"The Delacour family is hosting a party at their manor in Yorkshire," Astoria remarked while she was brushing her long hair. "Are you planning on attending?"
Draco closed his book and stood up to stack it on the shelf next to the window looking out on the garden. "Of course; they are an important family, so it's prudent we attend the party," he replied absently, wondering why his wife felt the need to ask such a question when they had attended all the previous parties thrown by the Delacour family.
He wanted to turn around and climb in his bed, when a movement in the garden called his attention. Narrowing his eyes, he could make out a familiar figure walking slowly over the gravel path, halting every few seconds to study the flowers blooming next to the path.
What was Harry doing outside this late at night?
"Draco, where are you going?" Astoria inquired curiously when her husband walked to the door.
He gave her a quick glance. "I'll be right back; I just need to check on something."
Before she could ask what he had to check at this late hour, he had already closed the door behind him.
Draco passed three house elves on his way to the garden; one was sweeping the floor in the ballroom and two of them were dusting off the various trinkets that could be found in the large hallways of the manor. They barely glanced at him – knowing better than to question one of their masters about his late night trip.
The heavy door leading towards the garden was pushed open and he slipped through the gap, turning his head from right to left. He spotted Harry near the lilies and he briskly crossed the path towards him, the moon illuminating the garden and providing light so that he wouldn't trip.
His footsteps on the gravel alerted Harry to his arrival and the dark haired man turned around, looking at him surprised.
"Draco, what are you doing here?" he asked curiously.
Draco raised an eyebrow and came to a stop when he was barely a foot away from Harry. "Shouldn't that be my question? You're the one skulking around in the middle of the night in the garden," he pointed out.
Harry scowled. "I'm not skulking and it's not the middle of the night yet. It's barely eleven p.m.," he replied petulantly.
"Seriously, what are you doing here?"
"I … wanted to walk around in the garden for a while; that's all." Harry shrugged and turned back around to inspect the lilies closer.
"In the dark?"
"The moon provides enough light for me to see the flowers," Harry answered absentmindedly and lowered his hand to carefully touch one of the flowers.
"Are you going to tell me what's on your mind?" Draco asked casually when a few minutes had gone by in silence with him staring at Harry, who ignored him and continued to admire the flowerbed in front of him.
"Nothing," Harry mumbled irritated and took a few steps further away.
"You expect me to believe you just wanted to walk around at night in the garden for no reason at all?" Draco inquired incredulously.
Harry opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment a gust of wind passed them and he shivered noticeably. It was the end of March and the weather had softened over the course of the month, but that didn't mean it was pleasant to stay outside during the evening. The chilly evenings wouldn't stop for at least one more month.
"You're cold," Draco stated and eyed the thin dress robe that clung to Harry's frame critically. "Why on earth did you choose something that thin to wear outside? Why didn't you just grab a jacket if you really wanted to walk around here?"
Harry sighed impatiently. "I just took the first thing that I saw, all right? Besides it's not that cold."
"You're shivering," Draco answered dryly. "That constitutes being cold when you ask me."
"Well, lucky for me, nobody asked you," Harry muttered and tried to keep his shivering to the minimum, not wanting to admit that the blond was right.
Draco sighed exasperatedly and rolled his eyes. "Come on, let's go back inside. The house elves can give us something warm to drink and you can tell me what's been bothering you." He turned around and he had to wait a couple of seconds before a second pair of footsteps begrudgingly followed him and a small smile secretly appeared on his face for a moment.

Fifteen minutes later, they were seated in a small, cosy drawing room with a cup of camomile tea in their hands, while the teapot was steaming on the triangular table between them.
"So care to inform me what bothered you enough to make you go outside in the cold?" Draco asked when it became clear Harry wouldn't be the one to start the conversation.
Harry let out a huge sigh and several strands of his hair fluttered. "It's nothing, really," he murmured and rolled his shoulders. He took a sip of his tea and rolled his eyes in exasperation when Draco looked at him pointedly. "It's stupid, okay?"
"Let me be the judge of that," Draco replied and raised an eyebrow. Now he was intrigued; what could be bothering his friend that the man perceived as stupid?
"It's just …" Harry struggled to find the appropriate words and a light flush coloured his cheekbones. He ran a hand through his unruly hair and pursed his lips. "It caught me off guard how … how my stomach has grown," he finally blurted out and looked embarrassed.
Draco blinked and stared at the dark haired wizard bemused. Caught off guard? How was that possible? Unwillingly, his eyes drifted towards Harry's waist; he had barely seen Harry without the magical belt and the last time he saw his stomach, he had just had a small belly, barely noticeable. Now however his stomach had grown considerably and his thin dress robe couldn't hide the rounded bulge his stomach had become so far.
"Well, you look fine to me," Draco said and cleared his throat, taking a quick sip of his tea. "I mean, you've been eaten well, but not to the point where it becomes unhealthy."
"I know, it's not … It's just odd, you know," Harry retorted frustrated and he drew patterns on the arm of his hair. "I mean, my stomach has been flat for so long, it's just incredibly weird to suddenly see it … bulging like this." He helplessly gestured to his stomach.
Draco tilted his head to the right and eyed Harry curiously. "Suddenly? Haven't you been paying attention to your waist at all? It's not like you were flat one day and then had a belly like that the next," he couldn't help but point out.
Emerald green eyes glowered at him. "I know, bastard, but I just hadn't been really paying attention to it," Harry snapped. "Tonight was just the first time I really realised that my stomach has been growing quite a lot."
"Do you regret it?" Draco asked carefully after a short moment of silence passed between the two men.
"What? No, of course not." Harry shook his head and placed his half empty cup on the table. "I'm not regretting doing this at all. Am I not allowed to feel out of sorts a bit?"
"Of course you are," Draco hummed. A thin sliver of relief wound itself around him. It was good to hear that Harry wasn't regretting carrying his baby. He would understand it, of course, if he did – it must be odd for the man to be carrying around extra weight; Draco couldn't even imagine how strange that must feel – but still it was good to hear that Harry wasn't having regrets. It would be a tad late at this point, but well …
"When is your next check-up?" he inquired curiously. He had a hard time taking his eyes off of Harry's stomach and he scolded himself. For Merlin's sake, he was acting as if he had never seen someone pregnant before! But, this is your child that is growing inside of him, a voice pointed out in the back of his mind. That's not the same as seeing any other pregnant person on the streets.
"Right, I wanted to tell you that tonight, but it slipped my mind," Harry smiled wryly. "The next check-up is next Wednesday, because I'll enter the sixth month then."
"How late? I'll be accompanying you again," Draco reminded him in case the airhead had got it in his head that Draco wouldn't be joining him.
"Lyrian told me that she scheduled me for …" Harry suddenly cut himself off with a quiet gasp and his hand immediately flew to his stomach.
"Harry, is something wrong? Do you need me to call a Healer?" Draco asked alarmed and rose up from his seat without thinking twice. His heart thudded painfully in his chest. Was there something wrong with the baby? Was Harry's body rejecting it?
When he didn't receive an answer immediately, he started making his way to the fireplace. He would need to disrupt the wards for this and that would not be an easy task, but he wasn't about to lose his child. "That's it; I'm going to call …"
Harry's hand shot out to grab his wrist when he walked past his chair and Draco spun around alarmed.
"Harry, do you need me to …"
"The baby kicked me, Draco," Harry breathed out and eyes, the colour of forest green, gazed at him in wonder. "I can feel the baby moving."
"What?" Draco asked dazed. Was he hearing correctly?
"Come here," Harry mumbled and pulled at his wrist, so that Draco ended bent over Harry's stomach. A tanned hand grabbed his own pale one and started directing it over the gentle swell of his belly. "Wait a bit; I thought I could feel …" A frown of concentration wrinkled his forehead and then a bright smile bloomed open on his face. "Here, can you feel it?"
His hand was resting near Harry's left side and Draco held very still; even his breathing was shallow while he concentrated. After a short while he wanted to pull his hand back when he couldn't feel anything, until something seemed to … flutter. Yes, flutter was the best description he could come up with for the faint movement he felt underneath his palm. It was like a butterfly landing on his skin and beating his wings against him. The action didn't hurt him, but it was tangible.
His breathing hitched and he stared in amazement at Harry's belly, which was moving up and down in accordance with his gentle breathing pattern.
That was his baby moving inside of Harry. His baby moving around, kicking even. Letting his presence be known.
"I can't believe it," Draco whispered and raised his eyes to look at Harry, who still had a look of wonder plastered on his face. "The baby is actually moving. I can actually feel him moving around."
Harry laughed merrily; his own hand was gently rubbing over his swelling stomach. "I know, right? It took me by surprise; this is the first time I feel the baby moving. It's so strange to feel him moving inside of me, but at the same time it's also nice, you know?" A blush started to fill his cheeks. "I don't know how to explain it exactly, but …"
"No, I understand. I know what you want to say," Draco murmured and carefully moved his hand lower. He furrowed his eyebrows at the shirt that formed one more barrier between him and his baby. Biting his lip, he glanced at Harry uncertainly, who returned his gaze with a questioning look.
"What's wrong?"
"Do you … would you mind terribly if I felt your stomach underneath your shirt?" Draco blurted out his request before he could think better of it and felt himself flush in embarrassment. "Merlin, I'm sorry. I just figured that it would be easier to feel the baby moving, but … That was impolite. Forget what I …"
Harry cut him off with a weak smile. "Go on. I don't mind," he murmured and his voice carried a shy undertone. "It's your baby."
But it's still your body, Draco thought, but after receiving another encouraging nod, he slipped his hand underneath Harry's shirt, which rode up a bit, baring his lower stomach. Harry's stomach felt quite soft, was the first thing he noticed when his hand came into contact with the naked skin. Soft, almost like silk, and quite warm.
The next thing he noticed was feeling his baby move around had become easier with one obstacle removed. The baby wasn't old enough yet to really kick firmly, but it was definitely putting up quite a fuss. Just enough for Draco to feel him – or her, he reminded himself; he could be getting a daughter as well – moving around.
Without being aware of it, his other hand came to rest on the gentle swell of Harry's stomach and his thumb started to caress the soft skin back and forth slowly. His eyes were trained on the pale stomach – not as pale as his own skin, though – and he couldn't help but wonder if Astoria had been pregnant, whether she would have allowed him to touch her stomach to feel their baby moving around. Somehow he couldn't imagine her allowing such a thing; she would probably even ridicule him for touching Harry's stomach now.
Ah, that was the fundamental difference between Astoria and Harry of course. If Harry was warmth, she was coldness.
His hands stilled and he stared at Harry's stomach in contemplation. He had known from the very beginning that Astoria tended to be quite cold; he had considered it as a way for her to keep control over her emotions and had praised that particular quality, but now that same quality irked him a bit for reasons he could not name. Would she act cold towards the baby as well? As far as he knew, she had no experience with children at all, being the youngest of two daughters, and while a cold attitude was appreciated when dealing with mere acquaintances, Draco couldn't bear the thought of her acting cold towards the baby. He knew better than anyone how it felt to grow up with a parent whose demeanour seemed set on Antarctic cold the entire time and while he respected his father and loved him, he didn't wish for his own child to grow up like he did.
"Draco?" Harry's hesitant voice broke through his musings.
"Hm?" His eyes shifted from Harry's belly to his face slowly; his hands still covering his stomach.
"I …" Harry trailed off when their eyes locked onto each other.
Silver grey met emerald green and time seemed to stop for a moment that seemed to stretch on endlessly. The atmosphere between them grew charged with something the blond could not name and something deep inside of him stirred; a sensation he couldn't identify as he had never felt it before.
Their magic was buzzing around them like a swarm of bees in the middle of the summer and he felt himself leaning forwards, drawn by the way those green eyes glimmered like gems in the light of the fire.
He became suddenly aware of the way muscles quivered gently underneath his touch; how warm and soft the bare skin felt underneath his fingertips and the way warm breath caressed his mouth and cheeks.
What was the sensation simmering in him? It didn't feel bad; it made him feel quite light in fact and warm, as if he had drunk the special chocolate drink of the house elves that never failed to warm him up from the inside out.
Forest green was slowly being eaten away by endless black. Looking inside the quickly expanding pupils was like looking at the night sky when he lay on his back: it drew him in and made him feel insignificant, as if he wasn't worthy of setting eyes on the magnificent sight.
"Does Master Draco and Master Harry requires more refreshments?" a house elf squeaked out of the blue and hearing its shrill, high pitched voice was like being doused by ice cold water.
Draco froze when he became conscious of their position: Harry was still seated in his chair, one hand placed on top of his stomach, but the other was suspended in the air between them as if he had been reaching out to touch Draco before they were abruptly interrupted by the house elf.
Draco's position wasn't that much better: his hands were still covering Harry's stomach, but he was leaning quite close to Harry and if he had moved his head two inches further, his lips would have touched Harry's.
Harry seemed to have taken notice of their peculiar position as well, because his eyes widened and his cheeks quickly filled with a red blush.
Clearing his throat, Draco pulled back and took a couple of steps backwards. He turned around to face the house elf and to give Harry a moment to adjust his shirt as well, as the T-shirt had ridden up quite a bit.
"Pipsky is sorries for interrupting Masters, sir," the young house elf squeaked in fright and it tugged harshly at its long, wrinkled ears. "Pipsky wills be punishing himself, yes, he will, sir."
"No, wait, there's no need," Draco sighed wearily when the house elf attempted to run towards the wall, presumably to bash his head against it. "No need to punish yourself, that's an order, Pipsky. You can take the cups and teapot with you. We'll be retreating to our rooms."
Pipsky still looked like he wanted to do nothing more than to repent for having disturbed his masters, but as a house elf he couldn't ignore a direct order and after offering a deep bow – his long, pointy nose brushed the floor – he started collecting the tea set quietly.
The creaking of the chair alerted the blond wizard to the fact that Harry had stood up.
"I – I'll go back to my room now," Harry muttered awkwardly and he seemed intent on avoiding Draco's eyes.
Draco swallowed and nodded rather jerkily. "Yes, goodnight."
"Goodnight," Harry murmured and practically fled out of the room, leaving Draco standing in front of the dying fire.
Something dangerous had nearly happened and it made him clench his eyes shut in frustration.
Just caught up in the moment, he reassured himself as he made his way to his bedroom. Nothing more. It couldn't be anything more.
Astoria didn't stir when he slipped inside their bed; unlike Draco, she was a heavy sleeper. The war had barely marked her, while it would always be a part of Draco; he knew instantly when someone entered his room, no matter how deeply he slept. Harry was the same way, he recalled from a conversation a year ago. The dark haired Saviour had admitted to having trouble sleeping as well and he would wake up at even the slightest disturbance.
Grey eyes slid to light blonde hair that was braided together; the braid shone silver in the moonlight.
Well, he couldn't fault Astoria for being a heavy sleeper; it was good that the war hadn't marked her so deeply. It might cause some misunderstandings at times – Astoria seemed to have trouble understanding that he didn't appreciate her coming up from behind without any warning – but such misunderstandings could be found between every couple.
He burrowed himself deeper underneath the sheets; his wand put underneath his pillow in case he needed to grab it immediately.
Right before sleep fell over him, he realised that Harry had never told him when the check-up was scheduled.

"How are you feeling now, Harry?" Hermione asked and her warm, brown eyes studied him worriedly.
He chuckled, leaning back into his chair. "I'm fine, Hermione, really," he reassured his best friend.
Today he only was scheduled to catch up on paperwork before he went to his appointment with Lyrian and Hermione had decided to pop by as she was in between two cases.
She huffed and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I'm only worried about you," she muttered petulantly and regarded him shrewdly.
"What?" he raised an eyebrow and sipped from his cup of Earl Grey tea.
"How is Malfoy treating you?"
He lowered his cup on his desk and pushed it forwards. "He's been treating me like always," he replied calmly. "Why the sudden inquiry?"
"Well, you're carrying his child for him," she pointed out and glanced at his midsection. "The least he can do is care for you well."
"I have nothing to complain about," he murmured and absentmindedly caressed his stomach. Ever since that night that he had become aware of the baby moving inside of him, he caught himself touching his stomach more and more. He wanted to refrain from doing that, but it felt almost like instinct to touch his stomach as soon as he felt a slight kick.
"Is, eh, is your baby … Can you feel it kick?" she asked curiously when she took notice of how his hand was positioned.
"Hm? Yeah, since last week," Harry smiled and a hint of excitement wormed its way into his voice. He couldn't help it; feeling the baby moving around, kicking him, had something magical. That was a cliché, maybe, but it was the truth. He couldn't help but marvel about the fact that the baby was now big enough to make his presence known. "The baby is kicking now actually. Do you want to feel?"
She looked surprised at the offer, but a glimmer of eagerness danced in her eyes and she rose up from her chair and walked around the desk to place her hand on his stomach. He was wearing his belt so to outsiders it looked like she was touching his flat stomach.
Her mouth fell open in an 'o' shape when she felt the faint push of what Harry suspected was the baby's hand.
"It's so …" She seemed speechless.
"Strange?" Harry laughed and shook his head. "Yeah, it took me a bit to get used to it. Took me by surprise when I first felt the baby moving."
"Has Malfoy …" Hermione looked hesitantly. "Has he felt the baby moving yet?"
He couldn't help but stiffen a bit when he recalled what had happened that evening. Or what had almost happened, anyway. And what could never happen. It was just the excitement of feeling the baby move that had confused them, he reminded himself and forced himself to relax.
"Yeah, when I felt the baby kick, he was with me, so I let him feel," he answered and avoided her suspicious eyes.
"Did something happen?" she asked and retracted her hand.
"Happen? No, why do you think something happened?" he asked in a forced light tone.
"Harry, I'm not stupid. I've known you since I was eleven." Hermione frowned and eyes him concerned. "So, please tell me: what happened?"
"Nothing, Hermione, I …"
A knock on the door made him shut up and they both turned their heads to the door when it opened, revealing Draco with his cloak hung over his arm. A blond eyebrow was raised when silver grey eyes landed on Hermione.
"Granger," he murmured benignantly and he narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Malfoy." She nodded coolly back.
Harry checked a sigh. No matter how much time passed, his best friends would never be completely comfortable around Draco. He could understand why, but it still bothered him to see the people dear to him act like wary cats around each other.
"It's time for the check-up, Harry," Draco announced and glanced at his watch.
"Oh right." Harry blinked and stood up. "I didn't know it was this late already." He turned to face Hermione. "Are you going with us?"
She shook her head with an apologetic smile. "No, sorry, Harry. I need to go back to my office. I have a new client showing up and rumour has it she's very punctual."
"All right then, have fun with that," he smiled and hugged her back when slender arms came around him.
Both Hermione and Draco didn't deign each other worthy of a good bye or even a glance as she slipped past him out of the door.
"Let's go. Lyrian will be waiting for us," Harry announced and after shuffling some paper back into the appropriate file, he locked the door to his office when they both stood in the hallway.
The tense posture of Draco and his stiff manner of walking next to Harry couldn't be dismissed and Harry frowned, reaching out with his hand to touch Draco's arm.
Draco jerked his arm away and looked at him surprised.
"Are you okay?" Harry asked softly when they stepped into the elevator that would bring them to Lyrian's floor.
Draco sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, ruining the immaculate styled strands. "Astoria and I just had a small disagreement, nothing more," he muttered and shuffled closer to Harry when a rather heavy set man stepped inside the elevator on the next floor.
It didn't look like a small disagreement to Harry, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. It wasn't his business anyway what went on between Draco and his wife.
Lyrian greeted them with a gentle smile when she opened the door after Harry had knocked.
"Come in. Good afternoon," she said and ushered them inside. "So, Harry, how have you been feeling? Anything in particular that you want to mention before I start the examination?" She led them to the adjoining room where Harry climbed on the table.
"No, I've been fine," he answered and lifted his shirt so that his stomach was bare. He removed the belt and placed it next to him before he laid down. The magical belt would block the spells Lyrian needed to use on him, so for now it would have to stay off. The sudden sight of his rounded belly disoriented him for a short moment and he blinked.
Draco wandered over to stand next to him and Harry caught him glancing at his stomach fascinated. Their eyes met briefly and they looked away at the same time.
The light blue gel Lyrian had used on him during the first check-up was spread over his stomach again and the spell she used next brought up the square screen again which showed the baby fussing.
"Looks like your vitals and that of the baby are good," she murmured while her eyes shifted across the parchment. "You don't have any vitamin deficit anymore either, which is also good."
"That's good to hear," Harry murmured and his eyes stayed locked on the screen. Curiosity grew in him; he really wanted to hear whether the baby was a boy or a girl. The baby kicked as if in response to his thoughts.
Lyrian chuckled merrily when she caught sight of both men's attentive gazes on the screen. "I suppose you want to find out whether the baby is a boy or a girl?" she inquired amused.
"Yes, please," Draco mumbled and shuffled closer to the table. His right hand came to rest on it, close to Harry's arm. "That will make it easier to choose a name."
"All right, give me a moment. It will depend on how your baby is positioned," she warned and studied the screen attentively.
Several minutes went by and Harry was already prepared to hear that the baby wasn't in a good position to discover the gender, when the Healer uttered a sound of satisfaction.
"Yes, it took a while; sorry for that. But the baby turned around and it appears that you're going to have a son, Mister Malfoy," she smiled.
Then Draco did something Harry had never expected of him.
He stammered with wide eyes, "A – a son? It's – it's a boy?"
"Yes, Mister Malfoy," she smiled indulgently. "You're going to have a baby boy."
It seemed to be a day of Draco acting unexpectedly, because the next moment his arms were around Harry, pulling him up so that he awkwardly hovered with his back above the table and had no choice but to clutch his arms around Draco's shoulders if he wanted to avoid cramped muscles.
"A boy! It's going to be a boy!" Draco practically crowed into his ear and the excitement wafted from him, floating around him like a cloud. "A son, Harry, you're giving me a son!"
Harry laughed gently, patting his back. "Yes, you're going to have a son."
He had to admit that he never expected Draco to become so happy about the revelation of the gender, but it was nice to see how excited he had become. The news seemed to have really cheered him up after his argument with Astoria.
Throughout the rest of the check-up, Draco kept beaming proudly and he even went as far as cleaning Harry's stomach with the towel Lyrian offered him before the dark haired wizard even had the chance to do it. When Harry protested and tried to snatch the towel, Draco fended him off and muttered something along the lines of Harry not needing to exert himself too much. The dark haired wizard wanted to remind his friend that he was pregnant, not an invalid and thus perfectly capable of wiping his own stomach clean, but one look at Draco's determined face and he had given in with an exasperated sigh.
Even Harry's reluctant concession of having Draco clean his belly wasn't enough to put a damper on his ecstatic mood.
It's a wonder he hasn't started whistling yet, Harry thought amused and watched how Draco eagerly accepted the new pictures of the baby before Lyrian left to visit her next patient.
"You want to grab some lunch?" Draco asked and pressed one of the pictures into Harry's hand.
Knowing better than to protest the picture, Harry simply accepted it and put it in his pocket. "Yeah, why not? I'm starting to become hungry."
The whole way to a new restaurant that had opened a couple of doors past Saint Mungos – and which advertised complete privacy for everyone – Draco kept chattering about the baby, speculating about the way his parents would react to the news they would get a grandson while Harry walked next to him with a soft smile adorning his face.

Two days after the appointment, Draco, Harry and Draco's mother were seated at the breakfast table. Lucius had a meeting with Severus and Astoria had decided to have breakfast with her sister, who presumably wanted to chatter about her growing relationship with Blaise.
"We can start shopping for baby clothes next week," Mother announced as she browsed through a magazine dedicated to the latest fashion when it concerned baby clothes.
"We?" Harry repeated blankly; his fork with a piece of his scrambled eggs hovered in the air in front of his mouth.
Mother looked at him bemused. "Of course, darling, you're coming with me. I need your opinion; after all you're carrying my grandson," she replied frankly. Her blue eyes twinkled in excitement. Two days after being told and she was still over the moon with joy that she would get a grandson.
Harry opened his mouth – probably to protest, judging by the petulant look on his face – but Draco quickly interrupted him, "Harry, seriously, there is no point in arguing. Just accept that you'll be going shopping with mother."
A heavy scowl was directed at him for siding with his mother, but his friend refrained from commenting when a light grey owl came flying through the open window, hooting.
"Isn't that Aunt Andromeda's owl?" Draco asked curiously.
"Yes, it is." Harry nodded absentmindedly and accepted the letter, giving the owl a few bacon strips that the animal tore into enthusiastically.
Green eyes went back and forth over the parchment, brows slightly furrowed, while a hand rubbed slowly over his stomach. Draco wondered whether the baby was kicking again and had to restrain the odd urge to go around the table and feel Harry's stomach.
"Andromeda asks whether I can attend Teddy's birthday party," Harry explained and placed the letter on the table, looking at it contemplatively.
"He's turning six, isn't he?" Mother asked interested.
"Yes, next Saturday," Harry murmured.
"Why not have the party here?" Mother suggested lightly.
Draco cast her a surprised look, but she ignored him, focusing her attention on a bemused Harry.
"Eh, are you sure about that?" he asked uncertainly.
"Of course, I wouldn't have suggested it otherwise. This way I can see my sister and Teddy again and you'll be protected by the wards," she replied airily.
Draco quirked a small smile; ah, so that was her reason for holding the party here. She didn't want Harry outside the protective wards of the Malfoy Manor. Not that Draco could blame her; too many things could go wrong when it involved Harry.
Harry rolled his shoulders. "I can take care of myself. And the baby," he added wearily.
She reached out with her hand and patted his arm gently. "I know, Harry, but I would be more comfortable if the party can be hold here. I just want to keep both you and the baby safe."
For some reason Harry could barely say no to mother and this time it was no different, as he acquiesced with a grumble and he excused himself, saying he would write a letter back with the suggestion.
"How come you're able to convince him to stay safe and he always argues with me?" Draco asked petulantly. It bothered him for reasons unknown to him that Harry was always ready to argue with him, never mind when Draco was the more sensible one of the two, but he agreed without too much fuss when Draco's mother suggested something. What on earth was mother's secret?
Mother chuckled and closed the magazine. "We merely have different ways of approaching him, dear."
And with that cryptic remark, she left him at the breakfast table.

Draco didn't know when he had become so attuned to Harry, but the fact was that in a fairly crowded room, he instantly noticed when Harry left the birthday party, looking a bit peaky.
"Teddy, I heard that your Aunt Cissa has some special cookies made for you," Draco interrupted the chattering boy, who looked at him with interest lightening up his dark green eyes. "Why don't you go find her?"
"Okay, Uncle Draco," Teddy chirped and while he dashed towards Draco's mother, his hair changing from a near black to a bright blond, Draco inconspicuously made his way out of the room, dodging a quite sour looking Astoria (who had not been happy to attend the birthday party of someone who wasn't immediately related to her and did not have any important influence in the world yet – sometimes Draco wondered when she had become so cold) and a Granger hell bent on discussing some kind of politics relating to Centaurs with him. Why she needed to pick him as her victim was a mystery he liked to leave unsolved.
The sharp contrast between the noisy room and the silent hallway once the door closed behind him was quite jarring and he shook his head.
"Milla," he called out softly and the house elf, appointed to Harry since he came to live in the manor, popped up immediately.
Her large, brown eyes looked at him quizzically. "Yes, Master Draco?" she squeaked; she still held a broom in her long, spidery fingers.
"Do you know where Harry went?" he asked, his eyes slightly narrowed.
"Oh yes, Master Draco, Master Harry is being sitting in the sunny room," she replied immediately.
"Okay, you can go back to your duties," Draco murmured and didn't stay long enough for the house elf to bow. The Sun room was on the second floor and it had received its name due to the fact that it received the sunlight at all time. Whether it had to do with the particular way the manor was built or some nifty spells from his ancestors was something Draco had never been able to figure out.
The door was ajar when he walked up to it and he slowly opened the door, wondering why Harry had come to this particular room. If he wanted to rest, it made more sense to go to his wing.
Harry was sitting on the broad windowsill when Draco entered the room. The magical belt that kept his pregnancy hidden from Teddy was put next to him. His light blue robes rustled when he turned to face Draco; his hand rubbing over his stomach.
"Draco, what are you doing here?" he asked surprised and a wince passed over his face. He shifted on the windowsill.
"I could ask you the same thing," Draco retorted dryly and approached him. "Are you tired?" Sharp, grey eyes took in the slight look of exhaustion lingering in forest green eyes.
Harry smiled weakly and shrugged. "A bit. Your son is kicking up what seems to be like a storm. He has apparently decided that my organs should serve as his personal punching bag. Oomph," he grunted and grimaced.
"I thought babies calmed down if you walk around?" Draco murmured rhetorically and without thinking twice, he knelt down in front of a flabbergasted Harry and pressed his ear against his rounded belly. A harsh kick aimed at his cheek made him retract hastily and he looked incredulously at the bulge. "A tad fierce, aren't you?"
Harry snorted and looked amused. "I told you, didn't I? He hasn't calmed down since he started kicking twenty minutes ago. Apparently he disagrees with my eating treacle tart." He pouted.
"Who wouldn't protest against that? My son just has taste, that's all," Draco sniffed and gingerly placed his hands on either side of Harry's growing stomach. Something that felt vaguely like a hand pressed back against his left hand and he smiled. "That's right, you have taste, don't you? You don't want that nasty treacle tart, right?" A softer kick this time. Grey eyes shifted to eye Harry amused. "See, he agrees with me."
"Of course he would. Papa's little boy," Harry muttered amused. "But you're both wrong; treacle tart is the best there is."
"Don't listen to him," Draco addressed his unborn son again. "Harry has no clue what sophisticated food really is. Treacle tart does not belong to that category. Now if you like that triple chocolate vanilla cake, I could understand. That one is heavenly."
Another push of a foot, equally gentle as the previous one.
"Keep talking; it looks like he's calming down," Harry whispered and rubbed his neck in relief.
Draco blinked and felt his cheeks flare up a bit. He had no clue why he had started talking to the baby; until now he had been content with occasionally feeling him move around. He had thought it would be awkward to talk to the baby or unwelcomed by Harry, but considering Harry was practically urging him on and well, it was his son …
"So just so you know, your grandmother has been buying a lot of clothes for you already," Draco continued and rubbed soothing circles on Harry's stomach. "I believe her next course of action is to buy you various toys, even though you won't be able to play with those decently until you're at least seven months old or so. Honestly it wouldn't surprise me if your grandmother threw a party to celebrate your birth a day after it happens."
He smirked when he heard Harry chuckling. "Your cousin Teddy will probably be impatient to play with you as well. You might even be fought over by your cousin and your Aunt Pansy. It wouldn't surprise me one bit if she has started buying her own collection of toys for you to play with when you visit her."
For the next twenty minutes he kept talking to his unborn son, speculating about all the things their various family members and friends would do and buy for the boy. He wisely kept his mouth shut about Astoria; he wasn't blind nor stupid: he had seen the way Astoria acted around Harry and now that the dark haired man was slowly relaxing, he saw no need to mention her. He ignored the dark voice in the back of his mind that told him it wasn't normal to keep quiet about his wife just to avoid upsetting his friend.
He's carrying my child, he shot back at the voice. The least I can do is avoid upsetting him when it is possible.
His voice grew hoarse after a long time of talking and he cleared his throat gently, rising up again from his knelt position with a soft groan as his knees protested at the sudden change in position. One of his hands remained on Harry's belly, rubbing it gently.
"Thanks," Harry whispered and looked at him gratefully. "He's calmed down. It looks like he really likes hearing you talk."
"I'm glad to hear that. If he becomes too fussy, I, you know, wouldn't mind talking to him again," Draco muttered, a bit embarrassed and glanced away.
"Well, it's your son, so if you want to talk to him, you don't need to wait until he's fussy," Harry mumbled and his voice carried a shy undertone.
Something compelled him to look at Harry and the golden aura from the sun seemed to cast an ethereal glow around his face, illuminating the few dark red strands scattered throughout the black hair. His emerald green eyes glowed from deep within as if someone was holding a lit candle behind an emerald stone.
It suddenly struck him how beautiful the dark haired wizard was. He didn't think he would ever use the word 'beautiful' to describe a man, but it seemed to fit for Harry. Harry, who despite their less than pleasant past had still decided to give him a chance. Harry, who was willing to carry his child for him, despite the restrictions and the drain on his magic it imposed. Harry, who was giving him the most precious gift he would ever receive in his life. Harry, who was selfless enough to help him.
His hand slipped from the rounded belly to Harry's back, resting right above his buttocks. His other hand cupped Harry's cheek, his thumb caressing his cheekbone.
Unfathomable, dark green eyes locked onto his and pale rose lips opened slightly. Something stirred in him, urging him to get closer to the other man in front of him.
This beautiful man who was giving him more than he deserved.
"Beautiful," slipped out of Draco's mouth …
Right before their lips met and a feeling of rightness sunk its claws in the blond wizard.

AN2: Aaand we have entered the angsty part of the story. From now on angst will be popping up quite frequently.
Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.
Next chapter will have both men dealing with their feelings :)
See you all in the next chapter!
Cuddles
Melissa
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Lifetime Decisions