Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Say It with Flowers	By : Sasunarufan13 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 8403 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor make profit of it. J.K. Rowling owns it.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
Author's note: Much later than I had anticipated, but it's finally finished! Yes, this is the last chapter of this story. With this I conclude my very first completely fluffy multichaptered fic! I have never written so much fluff before I tackled this story and I'm grateful for everyone of you who supported me through this fluffy journey! Your reviews definitely inspired me to write!
Thanks to the following reviewers: Jan; djaddict and SP777
Warnings: Time skip; MPreg; birth; flashback and fluff of course!
For the last time: I hope you'll like it!
Chapter 8 English Daisy and Day Lily
"Can anyone tell me why Mister Laten's Bursting Sunlight Curse failed?" Harry inquired calmly, catching the wand of Matthew Laten deftly as it soared to him through the air thanks to the Disarming spell he had used. Faint amusement stirred in him as he watched his student keep slipping over the patch of ice he had created on the floor before he finally regained his balance and stumbled back to his desk, face red with embarrassment.
He nearly let his wand slip through his fingers when Harry threw it at him.
Green eyes wandered over the faces of his fourth year students; three hands rose, one more hesitant than the others, and he supressed a smile when his eyes landed on the girl in the front row on his right. She reminded him of Hermione from her enthusiasm and eagerness to study down to the curly brown locks.
"Yes, Miss Greenlock?"
She promptly answered, "Because the Bursting Sunlight Curse is one of the few curses which really rely on the environment they are cast in, professor. As there is no immediate sunlight present at the moment, the curse won't have any effect."
"Very good, Miss Greenlock. Ten points to Gryffindor," Harry smiled and the girl visibly preened.
He turned to address the whole class again. "Can anyone give me three other examples of nature linked curses?"
It took the students longer this time to come up with three other curses, but Harry ended the lesson contently.
"Next week, we're going to start discussing some Dark Creatures that like to dwell in water," Harry announced over the ruckus of students stuffing their notes and books into their bags, eager to leave the class and start the weekend. "I advise you to read chapter twenty-five and twenty-six by then, so you at least have some clue as to which creatures we'll be talking about."
Some people groaned, clearly not in the mood to do any reading – and Harry would be a hypocrite if he stated he had liked reading every chapter the professors had assigned to him when he was still a student – but the majority of them greeted him cheerfully, wishing him a great weekend.
As soon as the door swung shut behind the last student and silence descended upon the classroom, Harry sank down in his chair with a sigh and rubbed his forehead absentmindedly. He loved teaching, but it had been a rather tiring week and he was glad that the weekend had finally arrived.
He had been teaching Defence against the Dark Arts for three years now; it had taken some time to figure out the lesson plans for each year, as McGonagall had given him all seven years at once, but with the help of Hermione and Draco he had managed to put a plan together adjusted to each year.
When McGonagall had offered him the position as DADA teacher, he hadn't wanted to accept it at first. It wasn't that he despised teaching, but he hadn't known what to do with Teddy during the hours he was teaching a class and he couldn't expect Draco or Andromeda to keep babysitting the boy. Without a doubt they would have done so if he had asked them, but Draco was studying to become a Potions Master and Andromeda had already raised one child before. She was also getting older – even though she would use a Stinging Hex on him if he ever referred to her as old – and would tire quicker if she had to look after an energetic toddler every day.
Harry had been close to refusing the offer, but help had come out from a rather unexpected source.
"You know I wouldn't mind taking care of Teddy during the hours you'd be teaching," Draco said, leaning back into the chair and reaching for his glass of chilled lemon tea at the same time.
They were in the garden of Malfoy Manor with the early June sun creating a pleasant warm haze. All around them bees were buzzing around, flying from one flower to the next and some birds chirped high in the trees at the back of the garden. Teddy was playing a few feet away from them on a blanket on the grass; currently his attention was focused on putting the various colourful shapes into the right holes and he squealed in delight every time he managed to push the object through the correct hole, causing it to shine and utter some high chirped noises.
"I know, but you're busy with your potions," Harry retorted and shook his head. "I can't ask you to neglect your own studies, Draco. That wouldn't be fair to you."
"It's not like you're going to be teaching day in, day out. Not even Severus did that and that man took his job seriously," Draco snorted and rolled his eyes.
"Still wouldn't be fair to you," the dark haired man sighed and shrugged. "Maybe it's better to wait until Teddy is old enough to entertain himself on his own for a few hours."
"While I admire you for caring about Teddy so much," Draco murmured and eyed him carefully, "you shouldn't have to put your life on hold completely for him either. Every parent needs some time for themselves, even the great Harry Potter." The corners of his mouth twitched a bit.
"I know that," Harry riposted annoyed. "I do take time for myself; I spend time with you and my friends, don't I?"
"And usually Teddy is present," Draco remarked dryly. "Look, I know you. You need something to do, otherwise you go stir crazy. Why not accept McGonagall's offer? We'll figure something out for Teddy."
"If I may interrupt." Narcissa stepped out on the patio; her bright blonde hair falling across her back like a waterfall. She smiled faintly and folded her hands together. "Why not enrol Teddy in a kindergarten? It doesn't have to be for the entire day. You could work out a schedule with the Headmistress which still would give you enough time with Teddy so you won't miss out on his development."
"The Wizarding World has kindergartens?" Harry asked baffled.
Draco regarded him incredulously. "Where do you think young children stay when a family doesn't have house elves and both parents are working? Granted, some do have private tutors, but if you have enough money to afford a private tutor, you can afford house elves," he added as an afterthought.
"Being around other children his age will also help develop his social skills further," Narcissa remarked and smiled serenely when Teddy looked up and waved at her.
It was true that Teddy would need to be around children his own age soon, if only to be able to play with them. Attending a kindergarten would certainly provide that opportunity. But where would he be able to find a kindergarten? This was the first time he had even heard of their existence in the Wizarding World and he hadn't encountered any in the streets he had frequented.
"Fine, but I'm going to need your help in finding a good one," he acquiesced, taking a sip of his tea.
It had taken them a bit more than a month to find a good kindergarten. Narcissa had compiled a list for them – and how she had compiled that list when Draco had never attended a kindergarten, Harry didn't know – and he and Draco had visited each one mentioned on it. Some had been crossed off the list, because they wouldn't work with the hours Harry would have. Others Harry had refused to consider, because they were more interested in talking to the Harry Potter instead of paying attention to his godson. Eventually they had found one relatively close to Harry's house, which would allow Draco to pick up Teddy on days Harry couldn't.
Teddy would turn five in a month; Draco and Harry would have start to discuss whether they would hire a private tutor for him or not.
When his first day as professor had arrived, he had thought it would be too strange or that he wouldn't be able to gain the respect of his students. It wasn't as if he had had complete respect for all his professors – as Snape liked to snidely remind him from time to time. Aside from some obvious cases of hero-worship, though, the students were rather easy to teach. Even the Slytherins, which had been rather surprising for Harry, considering the role he had played in the war. The majority of that House seemed to at least respect his knowledge and his amount of magic, if not he himself and that was good enough for the dark haired man. He had made it clear from the start that he wouldn't tolerate any prejudice or bigotry in his classes or the hallways and that seemed to have worked in his favour as well.
Quite some of his colleagues – and he suspected it would be years before that thought wouldn't feel strange anymore – were surprised at the way he handled the Slytherins, having expected that particular House to rebel the most against him. The oldest ones – people who had experienced the war first hand – knew better than to challenge him; the youngest were more likely to be wary, but seemed to have been warned against provoking him. As long as he didn't have to fend off an attack, Harry didn't care what kept the Slytherins in line, be it respect for his power or something else.
Considering he was the first DADA teacher to survive more than one year, however, that might have helped his reputation as well. Harry was quite proud of being the one to break the supposed curse on the course; it felt like a final 'fuck you' to Voldemort.
The impatient pecking of an owl's beak against a window brought him out of memory lane and he shook his head, turning his head towards the sound. As soon as he realised just whose owl was glaring back at him, he scrambled for his wand and opened the window with a hasty flick of his wand.
The owl, a deep chest nut brown coloured one, flew gracefully into the classroom and hooted reproachfully when he landed soundlessly on the desk.
Harry rolled his eyes, slipping his wand back into his pocket. "As if you could have been waiting for long," he muttered and pulled his fingers back in time to avoid being pecked.
He and the owl held a staring match for a moment until he ruffled his feathers and stuck out his leg as if he was a king offering his hand to kiss. Harry barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes again; he was pretty sure that if he did that, the bloody bird would try to attack him again.
The second Harry had the letter in his hand, the owl took off with a last indignant look, soaring out of the window; clearly been instructed not to wait for a reply.
The folded letter only bore his name, but the handwriting caused his heart to stutter and then go in overdrive and his stomach did an odd twist as he quickly opened the letter, eager – and apprehensive – to find out the result. The letter actually had two sheets of paper and he focused on the message first.
'Potter,
I concluded your bloodwork today. It is positive as I am certain you already knew.
I will send you the date of your next appointment next Thursday.
Have a pleasant weekend.
Sincerely,
Millicent Bulstrode'
Well, Bulstrode was to the point as always – but that was what he appreciated in her. The second piece of paper contained some numbers and words that were too technical for him to understand, but his eyes zoomed in on one particular line near the end of the parchment and a grin broke out on his face. This was the perfect way to start the weekend.
And he knew just the right way to break the news to his husband.
Humming a nonsensical tune – maybe he had picked it up from the radio, but he couldn't recall which song it was and he didn't particularly care either way – he turned over the slabs of chicken breasts so that they could fry on the other side as well. The faint scent of garlic lingered above the pan and the oil hissed slightly, but didn't spat up too high. Next to the pan a pot with potatoes was boiling and in the second cooking pot cut up carrots were being stewed together with a sliced onion bits and some garlic.
The table was set and dinner was nearly finished; Teddy was upstairs, putting together a jigsaw puzzle, which had a thousand pieces, waiting until he would be called down for dinner. Nothing more could be done, except for waiting for one other person to arrive, who had gone to a conference about certain potions in Wales.
If everything had gone according to plan, he should have received Harry's gift around half an hour ago, so that would mean he would be home –
A grin unfurled on his face when the tell-tale sound of the Floo activating reached his ears. He barely had time to lower the fire underneath the pan and pots and turn around before hasty footsteps halted suddenly near the kitchen door.
Wide, grey eyes were the first thing he met when Draco stepped inside, clenching a small bouquet in his right hand.
"Ah, so you did get my flowers," Harry smiled, cocking his head to the right. "I wasn't sure whether the owl would find you on time, considering you were in Wales. How was the conference? Did you pick up anything interesting?"
"Never mind that," Draco said tersely and took a few steps closer; his movements jerky instead of fluid as if someone was pulling him along by strings. "Is this – you're not fucking around with me, right?"
"Fucking is what landed us in this situation actually," Harry said brightly and his grin widened when the blond growled agitatedly.
"Harry, don't – don't joke about this, okay?" A hint of desperation rang through Draco's voice and he wove a card in the air. "This – this is really true?"
Harry didn't need to read the text in the card to know what it said; he had been the one to write it after all. "In seven months it will be either pink or blue." A rather short message, but coupled with the twelve flowers he had sent to Draco, the meaning of it couldn't be misunderstood.
The flowers were English daisies; six of them were the normal pink colour you could expect an English daisy to be. The other six had been spelt blue, as per Harry's request. The owner of the flower shop had looked a bit dubiously, but had fulfilled his demand, not caring either way as long as he got paid.
Aside from being pretty and smelling nice, the English daisy had a particular meaning attached to it which had made it perfectly suited for Harry's surprise.
Taking pity on Draco – who looked ready to explode from sheer nerves – Harry retrieved a small vial with bright purple liquid out of his pocket, together with the letter Bulstrode had sent him earlier today.
He showed both items to the blond wizard, whose eyes widened even more as he gaped flabbergasted at the other man.
"It's true, Draco," Harry murmured, letting the light catch on to the vial. The purple liquid inside shone, sloshing gently against the glass walls when Harry tipped it slightly. "I took the test yesterday and had Bulstrode test my blood to be double sure. She sent me the results today. I'm nine weeks pregnant according to the results."
Astonished he watched how tears slowly wiggled their way down sharp cheekbones, grey glinting silver, before Draco cut the remaining distance between them with a couple of large steps and then Harry found himself engulfed in a tight embrace; Draco's face buried in his neck. He shivered slightly when wetness slid from his neck down to his collarbone before it became absorbed by the cloth of his shirt.
Blindly he put the letter and the vial next to him on the counter – mindful to keep both away from the simmering pots – and slipped his own arms around Draco's shoulders, feeling the man tremble slightly.
"Would your ancestors approve of such an emotional reaction?" Harry teased; his fingers running up and down over Draco's spine.
"My ancestors can sod off. I'm happy, is that a crime?" Draco replied, voice muffled, restricted by Harry's skin.
"Not a crime, no. Did you think the potion wouldn't work?" Harry wondered and kissed Draco's temple. Even though Draco hadn't kept up his masks in front of Harry for years now, the dark haired man was surprised at the very open reaction he received to the news. He knew the blond would be happy; he just hadn't realised it would make him so happy to the point of actual tears.
"Of course not; I knew it would work. I brewed it myself after all," Draco sniffed, sounding a tad affronted, and lifted his head, scowling at the younger wizard.
The heat of his scowl was severely lessened by the look of wonder still lingering in grey eyes as they shifted downwards and gazed at his stomach. A hand slipped from behind Harry's back and came to rest on his stomach, caressing it almost reverently.
Four months ago they had decided they were ready to have a child together. After an extensive discussion about the various ways that existed to have children, they had settled on using a potion. The potion itself would take a month to brew; not because it was that complicated – or so Draco told him – but because the ingredients heavily relied on the different phases of the moon. The day the fertility potion had finally been finished, Draco had brought it with him when he left his potion's lab; his eyes shining unnaturally bright. The potion required the drinker of it to have a reasonable amount of magic available, to sustain both the pregnancy and create the necessary organs for a child to be able to grow. Bearing that in mind, Harry had been the natural choice to drink it; his reserve of magic being a bit larger than Draco's.
Now Harry was pregnant and before the end of the year arrived, they would have a baby with genes of them both.
"Why didn't you tell me that you had taken a test?" Draco asked, a slight frown marring his forehead. "I'd have liked to see the result together with you."
"You've always surprised me with flowers, now it was my turn to surprise you," Harry replied, grinning. "And when I discovered that English daisies are used to announce someone is expecting … Well, I couldn't resist it."
"You're lucky I'm far too happy now to punish you," Draco muttered, but a smile persisted around the corners of his mouth and Harry wasn't very inclined to take his threat seriously.
Draco's attention focused back on Harry's stomach – something which the green eyed man figured he would have to get used to for the remaining months of his pregnancy – and his hand slipped underneath his shirt, palming his bare skin.
"I bet Teddy's going to be excited when we tell him he's going to be a big brother soon," Draco smirked, eyes glinting.
Strangely it was that innocent remark that caused a lump to form in Harry's throat and he pressed his face into Draco's neck, hiding furtively the few stray tears leaking out of his eyes.
Draco made no secret of the fact that he considered Teddy part of their own little family; hell, he had even put in his proposal that he wanted to take care of both Harry and Teddy. As far as the blond man was concerned, Teddy was like a son to them. The four year old had even started calling Draco 'papa' sometimes; the title becoming more frequent as the weeks passed.
So no, it shouldn't really come as a surprise that Draco would refer to Teddy as the big brother of their baby – yet it still touched him to hear the comment leave his husband so casually, as if there was no doubt about it that the boy would be excited.
It made him love Draco even more – and he hadn't thought that was possible after these years already loving each other.
Pale fingers slid underneath his chin and gripped it, pulling his face up and away from Draco's neck. The moment Harry was facing him again, Draco dipped down and kissed him sweetly; their lips rubbing slowly against each other.
Slowly they pulled apart and a peaceful silence surrounded them.
That was until Draco opened his mouth, smirking, and said, "I can't wait to see the faces of the Weasleys when we tell them the news. How badly do you think their red faces will clash with their hair?"
Harry knew he should be offended on the Weasleys' behalf, but he just shook his head and laughed, feeling so light he could start floating without the aid of magic.
It was good to be home.
They waited until Harry was nearly sixteen weeks pregnant to inform their friends and family he was expecting a baby. In spite of not having been around many pregnant women, he knew that the first three months were considered the more precarious ones. Draco had reassured him that his own pregnancy would go smoother, thanks to his magic, but Harry had insisted on waiting just to be sure and the blond had relented.
Teddy was the first person to know about the baby. It only made sense, considering he would be the baby's big brother.
"A baby?" Teddy cocked his head curiously; his bright blue eyes fixated on Harry's stomach, where the barest bump had started to become visible through his shirt. "In your belly?"
"Yes, in my belly," Harry smiled, patting his stomach gently. "The baby will be born in November according to the Healer."
"But now the baby stays in your belly?" Teddy regarded his waist rather dubiously, as if he had trouble imagining how a baby would stay there.
"The baby has to grow for a few more months before he or she's ready to be born, Teddy," Draco explained, kneeling next to Teddy on the carpet. "What do you think? Are you ready to be a big brother?"
The look the five year old gave him was so offended and so Malfoy-like, that Harry burst out in laughter, ignoring the scowl Draco threw him.
"Of course I'm ready!" Teddy stated, wrinkling his nose, putting his hands on his hips. "I'm a big boy, papa!"
"Yes, Draco, he's a big boy, have you forgotten that?" Harry said, lightly mocking the blond.
Teddy took it as support for him and beamed at his godfather, before dropping the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle and reaching out with his arms. "I want to sit on your lap, daddy," he stated and that was that.
Harry bent down and helped him sit on his lap, grinning over the boy's head at Draco. The other man rolled his eyes and snorted softly, before rising up again, going to the kitchen to prepare lunch.
And that was that.
The next to be informed were Draco's parents. Narcissa's eyes had positively sparkled when Draco told her she would become a grandmother soon. Forgoing her stiff upbringing, she had hugged her son and kissed Harry's cheek before embracing him as well.
If there had been a sheen of tears in her eyes, neither of the two men had remarked on it. Lucius had been more stiff in his congratulations and he had refused to look Harry right in the eye, but he had sounded sincere when he told Draco he was happy for them. There had been even a spark of pride lurking in the depths of those ice cold grey eyes and that was good enough for Harry.
Andromeda had definitely acted more enthusiastic than Lucius and had even assured Harry that she wouldn't have any trouble acting as a grandmother for the baby too, too excited at the prospect of another baby joining the family.
Ron and Hermione had been informed separately from the Weasley family. They were Harry's oldest friends and something as intimate as expecting a baby was something they deserved to be told without the extended family hovering near them.
Hermione had actually burst out into tears before hugging him tightly, already babbling about the books she would read to help them and the furniture and other necessities they would have to buy for the baby. Ron, while as red as a fire engine, had squeezed his shoulder and had said he was happy for them – but that if the baby turned out to have Draco's temper, he would refuse to babysit him or her.
That had elicited a big argument between Draco and Ron that had lasted for nearly two hours and had only ended because Harry had claimed he needed to rest a bit. Draco's protectiveness had risen to new heights with the pregnancy and the dark haired man was not above making use of it in order to stop stupid discussions.
The other Weasleys had been told as last. Molly and Arthur had immediately offered their assistance in any way needed – with Molly subtly hinting to her other children that she'd like to see more grandchildren soon. Charlie had sent his congratulations through a letter, too busy protecting some dragons from poachers to come over for a visit. Percy had offered his congratulations as well, rather stiffly, but well meant. Fleur had kissed both their cheeks, squeezing their hands, and Bill had clapped their shoulders good-naturedly.
Ginny had smiled and when she had congratulated them, it had been sincere. She and Harry would never be as close as they had been during school, but they had settled into a comfortable friendship and she no longer felt the need to utter snide remarks about Draco. Having her hair turn green for nearly two months after Harry's accidental magic had struck when she had annoyed him one time too many might have helped change her opinion too.
McGonagall had been informed shortly before Harry was twenty-two weeks pregnant. It being the exam period, he wasn't in any danger of being hit by a stray hex, but precautions had to be taken for the new school year. Harry would be almost nine months pregnant by the time September rolled around and Draco had been adamant that he wouldn't bring himself or their baby in danger by continuing to teach hexes and curses. Harry would just teach the theoretical part of the course for the weeks he would still be teaching and a substitute – someone Harry and McGonagall had decided on together – would take over the practical part.
The press had got wind of the pregnancy near the end of June. Harry had been present during the graduation of the seventh years and some of the press had sneaked in, snapping pictures as soon as they noticed the rounded swell of his stomach.
Their requests for an interview were ignored, bar a simple confirmation of the pregnancy, and especially Draco took great delight in squashing the reporters' hopes whenever they swooped down like vultures during the moments Harry was in public.
Even married to Harry Potter and expecting a baby would not rid Draco of his sharp tongue.
He didn't know what had woken him up. It could have been the cloying summer heat lingering in the air or the faint nudges his baby was giving as he – or she, they would finally, hopefully, find out in the morning whether they would have a son or a daughter – tumbled around in his stomach. Being twenty-five weeks pregnant, the fluttering movements of a few weeks ago had made place for nudges and firm kicks. Harry was just glad the baby wasn't in the mood to beat his organs into submission – yet.
With his next inhale, he became aware of feather light touches dancing over his rounded belly and heat centring near his hip and leg. Before he could open his eyes and ask Draco what on earth he was doing in the middle of the night, his brain finally registered Draco speaking and his heart skipped a beat when the words travelled into his ears.
"I'm going to make sure you want for nothing," Draco whispered; fingers caressing the top of Harry's belly slowly. "You won't have to go extreme lengths just to satisfy your parents. You won't have to be the perfect son – or daughter." A gentle puff that could have been a silent chuckle.
"I'm not going to be like my father," Draco promised, his voice impossibly low even when he whispered. "I love my father, but he made a lot of mistakes. I'm going to be better than him. You deserve a better father and I'm going to give you that. I'm going to make sure you'll never have to wonder whether you're good enough. Because to me, you're always going to be good enough. Even if you're not going to excel at Potions," he added amused, but the light-hearted tone didn't chip away the determination or the old traces of grief and disappointment.
"You're going to grow up, knowing you're loved. I'll make sure of that," Draco whispered after a brief silence and Harry felt lips gently pressing a kiss on top of his belly.
Draco slipped from underneath the covers, curling back around Harry; an arm draped across his hips, right underneath his belly.
"You're already a better father than him, you know," Harry said softly and Draco stilled next to him, obviously not having noticed he was awake. "If you don't believe me, just ask Teddy."
"Just reassuring our baby, Harry. I don't need the reassurance myself, I know I'm great," Draco murmured, a smirk audible in his voice, but his arm tightened around Harry's hips and he pressed his face into Harry's neck; his breath stirring the miniscule hairs there.
"As long as you know," Harry murmured; his hand sliding into mussed up, blond hair.
A small hand gave a nudge near his hip; they fell asleep once more, soothed by the faint stirring of their baby.
"And you're sure you don't want to go to the hospital?" Draco asked tersely, hovering on Harry's side.
The urge to snap at the blond wizard rose like a snake ready to strike, but before he could open his mouth, a new wave of hellish pain – because that pain was not normal, Merlin – washed over him and instead of the snide retort, a low groan of pain left him and he braced himself with his hands against the wall, trying to ride the contraction as best as he could.
Hands started massaging his lower back and a sliver of relief worked its way through the fierce contraction and he sighed softly. Forget snapping at the other man; if his massages remained this good until the end, he would ignore his stupid remarks.
When he stopped feeling like a knife was twisting around in his gut, he straightened out again, panting softly. "You know why I don't want to go to the hospital, Draco," he sighed, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. "I don't trust anyone there to keep their mouth shut and I really don't want to deal with the press now."
"Have I given you reason to doubt my skills to bring this delivery to a good end, Draco?" Bulstrode inquired dryly as she entered the room, giving the parchment – which was recording Harry's progress – a quick glance. "Weasley and Granger have arrived. They're downstairs, entertaining your godson."
"I don't doubt you, Millicent," Draco answered and grimaced. "I just don't want anything to happen to Harry or the baby."
"It's nice to hear at least someone trusts I'm capable," she snorted, sinking down on a chair she had conjured. "Your parents look ready to curse me if they so much as hear a wrong peep."
"That's Narcissa, all right," Harry chuckled weakly, rubbing a hand soothingly over his stomach.
For two weeks they had been anxiously awaiting the moment he would go into labour and now, on the eight of November, their son was ready to be born. Shortly after breakfast, his water had broken and they had alerted Bulstrode, seeing as she was his Healer and the one helping him deliver their baby.
Most people went to Saint Mungos to give birth, but frankly Harry didn't trust any of the hospital staff to keep their mouth shut. Someone would probably let it slip that he was having his baby today and he really didn't want to deal with the avalanche of reporters who would crowd the corridors, eager to catch a glimpse of him. Today was about him giving birth, about finally holding their son into their arms, and he wouldn't let that special day be ruined by news hungry sharks.
Draco had initially been against a home birth. He was afraid something would go wrong during labour and there wouldn't be any professional help nearby. They had quite a few arguments about it, until Harry had suggested they'd ask Bulstrode's opinion about it. She had reassured them she had experience with home births and given how smoothly the pregnancy had gone, she saw no problems in allowing a home birth to happen. Even more, she had explained to them, a home birth was actually preferred if there were no immediate problems, because the magic of the house would help Harry during labour.
Something about the mixture of his, Draco's and Teddy's magic would aid as some kind of stabilizer and ease the process of giving birth a bit.
As soon as Draco had been reassured that giving birth at home would actually benefit Harry more than giving birth in the hospital, he had agreed to it – taking every precaution there existed, just to make sure nothing bad would happen.
"She's excited to see her grandson," Draco said and shrugged.
Bulstrode looked at him as if she didn't consider that a good enough excuse of potentially doubting her skills, but didn't remark on it.
Another contraction made Harry gasp aloud, taken by surprise by it, and as Draco rubbed soothingly over his back, pressing a kiss against his sweaty temple, Bulstrode muttered, "Nine centimetres. It won't be long anymore, Potter."
He would be relieved at hearing that, if he wasn't currently feeling like someone was twisting claws in his gut.
It was hard to feel relief when one felt like he was being subjected to the Cruciatus Curse after all.
If he had thought that time had gone slow while waiting for the potion to do its work and become dilated enough, he clearly had underestimated all the ways time could screw him over during the actual pushing.
It felt like he had been punishing for hours already, but the clock – and the waning, weak sunlight – showed that it had only been two hours.
Two hours in which he had been trying to push his son out of his body, but it was as if he was barely making any progress at all.
Panting harshly, he fell back against Draco's chest, all his muscles screaming in protest as the contraction died out.
"You're doing great, love," Draco whispered in his ear, brushing his sweaty hair back. "Just a bit more and then you're done."
"You've been saying that for an hour already," Harry grunted and squeezed Draco's hand harshly when the next contraction crashed into him and he had to push again. He felt a sadistic sort of glee at the wince passing over Draco's face. He was the one pushing something the size of a god damn watermelon out of a small hole – Draco could put up with having his hand crushed, damn it!
"This time he's right," Bulstrode said calmly; her eyes trained at Harry's lower body. If Harry wasn't in so much pain, he would have been embarrassed at having her stare at him in such a place. "I can see his head. You just need to give a few big pushes and you'll be done."
"I, hgn, better be!" Harry grunted and took a deep breath and started pushing again, refusing to let the exhaustion take control over him.
Time both seemed to slow down and speed up as he pushed with all his might, heedless to the stream of encouragement being muttered into his ear or the hand rubbing over his lower back.
Then, suddenly, a hellish burning pain, and emptiness, hollow as if someone had carved a giant hole in him.
Harry fell back, head spinning, limbs trembling and tensed up, but he sobbed in relief when the piercing cry of his son rebounded through the room, announcing his presence to the world.
"Congratulations, it's a healthy baby boy," Bulstrode chuckled, cutting the umbilical cord and cleaning up the wailing baby.
"Give him here," Harry rasped, and though his arms felt like limp noodles, he held them out, wanting nothing more than to press his baby against his chest, the child he had carried for forty weeks.
A blue blanket was wrapped around their son and then Harry finally held him in his arms; the small weight reassuring.
"God, look at him," he whispered, sight blurry with tears as he stroked the baby's cheek carefully.
Their son stopped their wailing and sniffled, turning his head a bit as if he instinctively knew he was safe.
"He's perfect, Harry," Draco said, voice hoarse, and there were tears in his eyes as well when he looked down at their son. "Absolutely perfect."
"What are you going to name him?" Bulstrode asked conversationally, her wand waving over something Harry didn't see, but knew had to be the afterbirth – and he wasn't going to contemplate how that looked like.
He shuddered and smiled down at their baby boy when pouty, pink lips opened and smacked together loudly.
"Scorpius Sirius," Draco murmured; his breath stirring the small tuft of dark hair covering their son's scalp. The blond had chosen the first name and Harry had insisted on picking the second name, wanting to honour his godfather.
"A good name." She nodded approvingly and rose up from the bed, removing her gloves. "Do you want me to warn your friends and your family?"
"Yes, but give them each a day lily first," Draco said and for the first time since Harry's water broke, a smirk lingered on his face. "Tell them it'll give them a clue whether the baby is a boy or a girl."
Bulstrode raised an eyebrow, throwing a wary look at the blue flowers waiting in a basket underneath a Freshening Up Charm, but nodded and took the basket with her when she left the room.
"That should give us at least a few minutes alone with Scorpius," Draco muttered, turning back to look at their son, who was staring with wide, dark blue eyes up at them.
Harry wondered whether Scorpius would have his eyes or Draco's; they would have to wait a little while until they could tell.
Flowers had been a constant thread in their relationship; in fact, one could say they were indirectly responsible for bringing them together. It was only natural, of course, that they would use a flower as well for an important day as the day their son was born. Except this time, they were giving the flowers to other people and not to each other.
The day lily had a particular meaning attached to it; it was considered an omen of a baby boy and even if the flower hadn't decided the sex of their baby, Harry and Draco had both decided that this flower was the best way to announce they had a son to their family and friends.
For a few months – ever since discovering it themselves – they had kept the sex of their baby a secret, ignoring the whining, the pleading and the various attempts to convince them to spill the truth.
Now the others would finally know they had a baby boy – if they could figure it out, anyway, before they burst into the room.
The sensation of a Locking Ward snapping into place made Harry look up surprised.
"What?" Draco shrugged, twirling his wand between his fingers. His eyes glittered brightly; his cheeks flushed red. "I just want to spend a bit more time alone with you and Scorpius. This way, they'll also actually think about the meaning instead of bursting in here like a herd of hippogriffs." He snorted and shook his head.
"You always have such great ideas," Harry chuckled, sinking a bit deeper into the pillows.
"Of course I have. If I didn't, I wouldn't be here with you now, would I?" Draco murmured, slipping an arm around Harry's shoulders, pulling him closer.
Harry felt his cheeks heat up and when he raised his head, a soft gasp of surprise escaped him when his mouth was captured in a tender kiss.
"I love you," Draco murmured, one hand cupping their son's head, who was dozing, clearly exhausted by the trial of being born.
"I love you too," Harry whispered and they shared a loving smile, before they both gazed down at their son.
A sense of peace and overwhelming love for both the little boy against his chest and the man embracing him filled him, warmed him up.
Who would have thought that everything would start with just a single flower bouquet?
Now they were here. Together. Linked by ties of blood and love.
Flowers might perish, but their love for each other wouldn't.
That Harry believed wholeheartedly.
The End.
AN2: I hope I didn't disappoint you with this chapter! It was a tad more difficult to write than I had expected - which is partly the reason why this is posted so late *clears throat*
So yes, this is the end. Thank you again for your support; I really appreciate your reviews!
Please leave your thoughts behind in a review for the last time; if you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.
I hope to see you all in my other stories!
Cuddles
Melissa
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Say It with Flowers