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The Rise of the Drackens: The Scaled Bits	By : StarLightMassacre Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 169453 -:- Recommendations : 8 -:- Currently Reading : 21
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All rights of Harry Potter belong to J. K. Rowling. I am making absolutely no money from this piece of fictional writing.

Chapter List
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Strength
Harry woke up very rapidly, his vision blurred with sleep still, but there was a bad taste in his mouth and he was suspiciously breathless as he panted to try and control his own body. He was lying in a bath of his own sweat and he shivered uncontrollably. His stomach suddenly roiled in a familiar way and he crawled quickly out of the bed without waking up any of his mates and he dragged himself to their en suite bathroom on weakened, quivering legs that felt like they were only semi-solid.
He made it just in time for his vision to blur and a cold sweat to break out on his lower back as he dropped to his knees and vomited hard into the toilet.
Harry hardly ever got sick, it had been years since he’d last fallen ill, (not including morning sickness as that wasn’t truly an illness but was instead caused by pregnancy hormones), it was a very rare occurrence for him to be truly sick and he absolutely hated it. All four of his mates were in work today; he’d be on his own with all of their children. He was eternally glad that Leolin was having a ‘sleepover’ with Dain and Kailen at the Faerie city.
He cleaned up after himself before he all but crawled down the stairs and into the kitchen. He dug out Max’s potion case with the help of a chair, because no two ways about it, Max put it as high up as he could to protect the children and Harry was just not that tall.
He swallowed a headache reliever and a potion to settle his stomach before putting it all away and washing up the vials as he waited for the kettle to boil.
He forced himself to carry on as normally as he could manage, he forced himself to make breakfast for everyone and he forced himself to act as normally as he could when his family came down the stairs to start their day. Nasta was saying aloud the schedule for the day, as he did every morning, as he checked on all the children and made sure that they were all eating. None of them noticed that he wasn’t quite himself, or if they did then they didn’t say anything about it. Today was the busiest day of the week for all of them, he’d fallen ill on the worst possible day imaginable. Typical, just typical.
All four of his mates were gone less than an hour later and he was unfortunately getting worse as he tried to do everything that he needed to do at home and look after his thirteen children too. He’d already floo called Dain and told him keep Leolin for another night.
“Mummy, you’re not well.” A recently turned six year old Braiden said, looking at him hard.
“I’m fine, sweetie.” Harry said in a croak that spoke volumes of how unwell he actually was.
He was keeping a bucket near him at all times so he didn’t have to run to the toilet and leave his babies alone and unsupervised, especially a four month old Mollie, who he was still very protective over and who his Dracken still freaked out over as he had lost her two older sac siblings, Cassandra, nicknamed Cassie, and their little stillborn, Jaime.
Braiden shook his head. “No Mummy, you’re not well.”
Harry smiled at his sweet, perceptive child. “I’ll be okay, love; your Daddies will be home soon and they’ll look after me then.”
Harry’s attention was grabbed by a thump and a nine month old Mace, who was sniffling after just bumping his head on the coffee table.
“Macie!” Braiden sighed, like he’d heard his Mummy do before he picked up his baby brother and carried him to the settee.
Harry could only chuckle as he watched Braiden take care of his brother.
“Are you okay, Mummy?” An almost six year old Tegan asked, peering at him closely.
“Yes, love, it’s just a cold, I’m sure. I’ll be fine in no time, you’ll see, I’ll be better by lunchtime.”
His lie did not hold true however and by the time that eleven O’clock rolled around, he was sweating and panting for breath if he so much as moved from lying down to sitting up. He felt so awful he was considering floo calling Alexander or Myron or Aneirin, or someone, anyone, just so that he could rest his eyes for a moment.
A shrill shriek and he bolted upright, having fallen asleep without meaning to. He peered around blearily and found Eva and Ave battling it out very close to the shuffling Mace.
“Girls!” He croaked as loudly as he could. “No fighting, go to separate corners, now!”
Eva and Ave glared at one another, then turned pouts to him, but he stayed as firm as he could with the urge to vomit in the back of his mind and a tickling feeling crawling up the back of his throat. He pointed firmly to either corner of the living room and the girls gave up and stomped off to the corners that he’d pointed at.
“Mummy, does Momo want to be on the floor?” Calix asked as he turned a frown to him from where he’d been looking at a struggling Mollie in the bouncer on the floor.
Harry sighed and moved, panting with the exertion of sitting himself up as fresh sweat broke out on his forehead and neck. He slithered to the floor, almost uncontrollably as he slumped down onto the carpet and he all but crawled to the bouncer.
He fiddled with the straps, his shaky fingers fumbling the locking mechanism until he freed Mollie and set her gently onto the floor.
He only had five daughters, but he’d be damned if they weren’t the more troublesome. They definitely made themselves heard at any given moment as he looked to his quiet little sons and then to the silently fuming twins and to his beautiful, bossy Tegan. Even his barely mobile Mollie was making a racket that was making his forehead throb.
Of course it wasn’t strictly true that all of his sons were quiet and all his daughters were loud as he smiled weakly at his loud and energetic Taren before looking to his softly singing Lai. At least he wasn’t pregnant, he counted that as a massive bonus. Nothing was worse than being this sick while pregnant too.
He couldn’t muster up the energy to get himself back on the settee, so he stayed on the floor. His head was pounding and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He was jerked awake again by wetness on his leg. Calix had a cup of something and he’d stumbled over a toy and spilt the contents of the cup over his leg. He’d fallen asleep again without meaning to. He really needed some help now, he couldn’t leave his children unsupervised, it was far too dangerous. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to them.
“Hungry, Mummy.” Farren whined.
Harry patted his head and almost missed as his sight was blurry.
“Mummy isn’t well, Farren!” Tegan said stubbornly. “He needs to sleep!”
“It’s okay.” Harry said, almost panting.
He used the settee to stand up and almost toppled back over as his head swam. He forced himself, with every ounce of stubbornness in his body, to walk himself into the kitchen and make lunch for his children. It was an hour late and he cursed his own body for making his babies starve.
He made up three bottles for Mollie while he was in the kitchen and made a teapot full of tea for himself. He didn’t want to come back into the kitchen at all.
“Braiden.” He called out as loudly as he could and bless him, his little boy came running at the sound of his call.
“What is it, Mummy? Are you okay?”
“Yes, love.” Harry lied. “Here, take these into the room.” He said, handing over a massive twenty carton box of ready-made juices. He could barely lift it and it made his muscles scream, but Braiden took it and carted it off into the living room as easily as if it had been a teddy bear.
Harry rested against the countertop and he groaned, trying to finish off what he needed to do before he collapsed. He vomited once into the kitchen bin and he cursed himself.
“Tegan!” He called out.
Tegan came rushing in next. Harry held out the three bottles for Mollie and a box of biscuits.
“Take these for me, love.” He said softly.
She nodded her head and just took them and went back to the room. Harry felt like he was dying as he plated up twelve lunches on plastic plates and carried them on a large tray, along with his cup and teapot, back into the living room. It was only a few slices of pizza, some sweetcorn and baked sweet potato, it was all he could manage, but it was like a treat for the kids, who loved pizza, but rarely had it on Max’s monthly menu. Harry had broken that too and he just didn’t care.
“Thank you, Mummy!” His babies cheered and he managed a small, strained smile for them.
“We eat here?” His tiny Lai asked in puzzlement. They had never before eaten off of their laps or anywhere other than the kitchen or the dining room.
“Yes, love. You can eat in here.” Which was breaking Draco’s most enforced, strictest rule. That the kids always, always, ate at the table. Again Harry just didn’t care.
He collapsed back down to the floor. Where he dragged his Mollie into his lap and took one of the three bottles that Tegan had put on the coffee table. He tested the bottle, cooled it slightly with magic and then fed her. Not even halfway through her bottle, Harry’s arms started shaking and he had to shift her position to continue feeding her safely.
The kids all drifted back to playing and watching cartoons on the tele after they’d eaten enough of their lunches. Harry burped Mollie and put her back in her bouncer where she drifted off to sleep. Harry picked at the leftovers from the kids plates and sipped at his tea. He wasn’t really hungry, he just needed to stay awake and keeping active was the best way to keep himself more alert.
He needed more potions too, he was feeling cold again, but he was sweating buckets, his stomach was in chaos and he seemed to be gagging on his own tongue, his head pounded with his heartbeat and he was shaking like a leaf, even the smallest movement had his weakened body quivering, but there was no way that he could safely stand on a chair to get the case down now. He couldn’t even move from left to right, let alone stand himself up. He just had to deal with the pounding headache and the constant urge to vomit.
His kids continued to play, running back and forth to the bathroom right next door and Harry was forced to deal with changing nappies, trying not to smell anything as bile coated his tongue and the back of his throat.
Some of the kids dropped for a nap, but Harry couldn’t carry them up the stairs as he usually would have and he couldn’t keep things quiet, so he ended up with babies barely getting a nap and being grouchy because of it. Then Mace had a tantrum because he was overtired and Harry just couldn’t deal with it.
He tried to calm Mace down, he tried to hold his kicking legs, but he got kicked in the face for it because he was too weak to hold onto the thrashing legs.
He let Mace go and settled back against the settee. He stopped Braiden from going near Mace and he made sure Mollie wasn’t in any danger as he let Mace cry himself into exhaustion. He vomited into the bucket he had beside him, his head spinning from dizziness and the cacophony of noise in the room. None of them were getting any of the rest that they desperately needed.
He jerked awake as a cool hand pressed itself into his forehead and he moaned, cracking his eyes open. The blurry face of Max met him and he frowned in confusion. Who had called Max? Had he managed to call Max? Had he let out a distress call? It was too much for him to deal with as his head spiked with pain and he let it go, he was just very glad that Max was here.
“You’re sick.” Max told him.
Harry nodded weakly. Max helped sit him up slowly and carefully, Harry’s world still tilted on its axis and he swayed, heaving a bit of vomit into his mouth that Max wiped away with a handkerchief he took from his pocket.
“What have you taken?” Max asked him very seriously.
“Noth…nothing.” Harry managed to say. “Couldn’t get up to the case, safely.”
Max picked him up and settled him on the settee and dragged the knitted blanket from the back of it. It had been a gift from Mrs Weasley. It still smelt like the Burrow, even after all these years and it was so very comforting to him.
“Have you kids been good?” Max asked them.
“Of course we have, Daddy!” Tegan answered. “Though Mace had a tantrum and kicked Mummy.”
“I can see.” He replied, looking at the bruise on Harry’s face. He’d thought that Harry might have caught it on the table when he’d passed out. He didn’t like the thought that his son had kicked Harry in the face while he was this sick.
Mace was in a corner of the room, fast asleep under a doll’s blanket taken from Tegan’s toy buggy. His twin, Evie, was under the table with a teddy bear and Mollie was in her bouncer, again fast asleep.
“Is this lunch or dinner?” He asked, picking up the collection of plates with bits of food still on them and putting them back on the tray that Harry had obviously used to bring them into the room.
“Lunch, Daddy. We tried to wake Mummy for dinner, but he wouldn’t wake up.”
Max looked to Harry, who had drifted off again and he could understand why the kids couldn’t wake him. Harry was very, very sick.
“Why didn’t you call for help you stubborn man?” He sighed under his breath.
He got rid of the used dishes and immediately started getting dinner on for the kids. It was going to be late and it looked like they had eaten an entire box of biscuits and drank an entire box of juice cartons. Harry had tried to do as much as he could, but he’d needed help and more rest than he’d obviously gotten.
He got his potions case down and he immediately noticed that two vials were missing. A headache reliever and a stomach settler. He sighed and went back into the room. He needed to know when Harry had taken them in case he wasn’t allowed to take any more.
“Dinner will be soon.” He promised his children. He’d put something very quick in the oven. They needed to be put back into a routine and he needed to bathe them and get them fed and into bed. They were going to rebel at having so little quiet time, but that couldn’t be helped.
He woke Harry with a gentle shake and those sympathy inspiring eyes cracked open to peer miserably up at him.
“When did you have the headache reliever and the stomach settler, love?” He asked slowly and clearly.
“‘S’morning.” Harry slurred. “Afore you were all awake.”
Max nodded and he uncapped another headache reliever and helped Harry drink it down with a grimace before repeating it with a stomach settler and a fever reducer. He left Harry tucked up on the settee and he went back out into the kitchen, getting beakers of juice for his kids and checking on the food in the oven. Of course Farren had followed him and he was sat at the table, waiting.
“It won’t be much longer, love.” He promised. “Has your Mummy been like this all day?”
Farren nodded. “He’s been very poorly, Daddy. He kept going to sleep and we’ve been in the room all day.”
“Did he change the babies’ nappies?” He asked seriously.
Farren nodded. “He gave us lunch and gave Momo her bottles too, but he didn’t play with us at all. He always plays with us all day when he’s well. We didn’t have any naps either.”
Max nodded and he sighed. He should have noticed this morning that something was off. In fact he had noticed that Harry was quieter and more subdued, he’d thought that he had been thinking of Cassie and Jaime again, so he hadn’t questioned the quietness. It had only been four months since they’d lost their two newborns and Harry and Mollie had only been home from the hospital for a couple of weeks.
They let Harry have his space as he let them have theirs while they were grieving, and they even grieved together when they needed to. They were getting better, but Harry kept two photos on their bedside table, one of Jaime and one of Cassie.
Jaime had been a stillborn, so he was very pale in his photo, wrapped up in white and blue blanket, a hat on his head and matching scratch mitts on. Sometimes they could convince themselves that he was just sleeping, but they all knew better, Jaime hadn’t even gotten to take a single breath.
Cassandra, affectionately named Cassie by Harry, was awake in her photo. Her big blue eyes blinked at them and she shifted minimally. She had died in Harry’s arms just hours after the photo had been taken.
Max plated up the quick dinner and placed them on the table, Farren already digging in with gusto.
“Kids!” He called out.
He went into the living room to round up the stragglers and he checked on Mace, Evie and Mollie. They didn’t need a nappy change and they were all sleeping. He sighed and carried the two nine month olds up to bed. They’d probably be awake earlier than usual for their bottles, but he’d deal with that later.
He cleaned up the living room, checking on Harry again, whose fever had thankfully come down a touch so it didn’t feel like Harry was burning up from the inside out.
Blaise took that moment to floo through and he took one look at the scene in front of him and threw his dragonhide briefcase away from him and hurried over.
“What is it? What’s happened?” He asked panicked.
“Harry’s really not well. I came home to find him passed out on the floor and the kids everywhere.”
“With no supervision?”
Max shook his head. “I think he would have tried to call someone, but he couldn’t move.”
“Did he get this from his fall?” Blaise asked as he cupped Harry’s face and turned it to show the dark bruise in stark relief.
“No. Mace kicked him while he was having a tantrum.” Max said unhappily. He hated any of the kids hurting his submissive and he always made sure to tell them that hitting and kicking were not okay.
“Where are the kids?”
“Eating dinner.”
“It’s too…”
“It’s late, I know. Harry is in no state to be cooking or even standing. I’m going to take him up to bed.”
“I’ll do that.” Blaise insisted as he picked Harry up, who mumbled inaudibly as he was moved. “Does he need any potions?”
“No, he’s taken them, he’s good to go to bed and just stay there.”
“Has he eaten?”
“I wouldn’t have thought so. Then I doubt he feels much like eating at the moment.”
Blaise nodded and carried Harry up the stairs and to their master bedroom. He tucked Harry up in their bed and kissed him as Harry moaned at the cool sheets, spreading his body out and touching as much of the coolness of the bed as he could.
Blaise helped him by stripping Harry off and letting his flushed, bare skin touch the bed sheets. Harry rolled around happily and spread eagled himself on the bed. Blaise felt a stirring of lust, but brushed it away by reminding himself that Harry was very sick.
He left the bedroom and went back down the stairs, hearing Max explain what was going on to Draco and to Nasta, who had both arrived home within minutes of one another.
“I noticed that he was quiet this morning.” Nasta sighed.
“I did too. I thought it was him thinking too hard about Cassie and Jaime.” Draco replied sadly.
“I thought the same.” Max told them.
“I asked him if he was okay and he nodded. That made me think that it was Jaime and Cassie.” Blaise answered. “I shouldn’t have just taken him at his word. He’s been in that hospital for months, who knows what he picked up!”
“It looks like the norovirus to me.” Max said. “A very nasty bug. He needs to stay in bed.”
“I told Mummy to go to bed.” Tegan told them. “He wouldn’t listen though and just said it was a cold, but I knew he was sick.”
“You’re a good girl, Tegan.” Nasta praised.
Tegan beamed and trotted off to watch some cartoons before her bath.
“I’ve got the day off tomorrow.” Draco told them. “I’ll look after him and the kids. Just write down what potions he needs to take and when.” He directed to Max.
Max nodded. “He’ll be okay in a couple of days. I just wish that he’d told us that he was sick.”
“You know what he’s like.” Blaise sighed. “He’s already feeling like a bad parent because of Cassie and Jaime. He hasn’t been able to ask for help since we lost them as it makes him feel worse about himself.”
“Blaise is right, we should have questioned his quietness and not just assumed that we knew what it was about.”
“Next time.” Draco nodded. “We can’t change what we’ve already done, but we can learn from it and look out for this the next time that Harry’s ill.”
“He’s so rarely ill.” Blaise frowned. “It’s strange thinking of Harry as actually ill and not just having a bout of morning sickness.”
“Come on. Let’s get this place sorted and get those kids ready for bed. We’ll talk more afterwards.” Nasta encouraged as he turned to the kids and wrangled them up to get ready for a bath. He promised them one film only and then they needed to be in bed and it seemed to work, though they all knew they’d have a fight on their hands once the film actually ended.
Max made sure that he had enough potions to cover Harry’s illness and set to brewing more headache relievers. They could always use more headache relievers in their house.
Harry was getting the rest that he needed, the house was being cleaned up and the kids wrangled up and set back into their routine. Now that they actually knew that Harry was sick, they could help him and take care of him. He just wished that Harry went back to feeling comfortable with asking them for help when he so obviously needed it.
It wasn’t his fault that they’d lost Cassie and Jaime and none of them would dream of putting the blame for their tragic deaths on his shoulders. He just wanted Harry to see and believe it. They loved him still, they wanted him more than ever and none of them blamed him for their loss, especially not himself, as the biological Father of both Jaime and Cassie.
Perhaps tomorrow, if Harry was in the right state of mind to hear such things, he’d tell Harry so and make him see that no one blamed him for the death of their two newborns, that they still loved and desired him. He definitely wanted to show Harry that last, he thought pervily as he readjusted himself in his work trousers. He would make things right though, he would make Harry see that what had happened wasn’t his fault, even if they had to give a call to Harry’s old Mind Healer, Sebastian Vasey. He would get Harry better, make him rest and he would make this right. He swore it.
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The Rise of the Drackens: The Scaled Bits