hd inspiration for red_rahl

[hd_inspired_mod]

Author: daemon_familiar
Recipient: red_rahl
Title: Miracle
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The diagnosis of Draco's mysterious illness is far from what he expected.
Warnings: Mpreg, fluff, mushiness, and some angst.
Total word count: 7,373
Beta: dawnsreign (not a Livejournal user-my roommate)
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Miracle

Severus Snape savored a cup of steaming hot tea, basking in the peace and quiet that were the key components to a perfect Saturday. He was contemplating whether he would do the responsible thing and begin scrawling his way through the surely-repulsive stack of essays waiting for him on the desk, or indulge in a rare lazy day that included nothing but himself, a comfortable chair, and a good book. He had nearly decided on the latter when his thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a firm knocking at his door. He stared in the direction of the entryway in disbelief. Only the late Headmaster had ever possessed the nerve to disturb the sanctity of his Saturday mornings. The knock was far too confident to be a student, and the esteemed Headmaster was, indeed, late, so it could only be...

Severus sighed. “Enter, Draco.” His nuisance of an apprentice sauntered into his chambers as though he had every right to desecrate the silence of his Saturday. “You are aware of what day it is, correct?” he inquired dryly. Surely, if anyone knew how dear he held his Saturdays, it was his godson.

“Yes, I realize,” Draco replied, having the grace to at least appear contrite. “This is strictly a personal call.”

“What is it that you want, Draco?” Severus asked with another sigh, wanting nothing more than to get the bothersome boy out of his quarters so that he could get on with his day.

“I'm wounded, Severus, I truly am. Does one's godson need an ulterior motive to visit his godfather?”

“When one's godson is Draco Malfoy he does,” Severus muttered. “Don't insult my intelligence, boy. What do you want?” he asked again.

“All right, you caught me. I was wondering if you could spare me a few potions,” Draco confessed casually.

Severus' eyebrows raised. “What potions could I supply you with that you couldn't make yourself?”

“Well, you know,” Draco said with an elegant shrug, “no matter how hard I try, I still can't quite compare to you. Your potions always seem to work a bit better than mine.”

“Nonsense. You used up all of your ingredients, didn't you?”

Draco flushed slightly. “Well, yes. I truly was curious, however, if your potions would have a better effect. Mine just haven't seemed to be doing much good lately.”

“What kind of potions do you require, exactly?”

“Anti-Fatigue Formula, if you have it, but an extra-strong Pepper-Up Potion would probably do the job. Stomach Settler, also extra-strong, if you could, and maybe a bottle of Emotional Stability Serum.” Draco recited, trying to sound nonchalant.

Severus wasn't fooled for an instant. He scowled at his godson, a seed of concern settling ominously in his stomach. “Have you been ill?”

“Not ill, exactly,” Draco hedged. “I just haven't been feeling quite well. It's probably nothing at all, but you know how Harry gets. He worries things out of proportion. I had to agree to see someone about it to get him to leave me alone.”

“How long have you been feeling not 'quite well’?” Severus asked sternly.

“A few weeks, is all. It's really not a big deal.”

Severus knew his godson well enough to notice the warning sign: a slight shift of the eyes. “Draco,” he said warningly. “The truth, if you would.”

Draco glowered at him. He had always hated getting caught in a lie. “Fine, it's been a little over a month, but it's still not a big deal.”

Severus' eyebrows raised. “I have a hard time believing that Potter allowed you to be ill for a month without forcibly dragging you to the hospital wing.”

Draco winced slightly, a blush lightly tinting his cheeks.

“Ah, I see. Your lover has turned you away from his bed until you seek medical help?” Draco's scowl was his affirmative. “Quite Slytherin of him, really, to make it so worth your while to take care of yourself. Let me guess, you came to me in search of potions with the intention of fooling him into thinking that your health had improved, and thus allowing you to avoid entering the realm of Poppy the Dragon Lady?”

“Maybe,” Draco muttered reluctantly.

“I thought so. Unfortunately, as much as it wounds me to dash such hopes, I must insist that you have Poppy do a detailed analysis of your wellbeing before I will provide you with any potions.”

Draco sighed. “It was worth a try, anyway.” He turned back to the door before pausing and cursing quietly. “Severus, do you mind if I use your lavatory before I go? I swear I have to urinate every ten minutes, these days. I have no idea why.”

Severus nodded his assent and Draco disappeared. As soon as the boy was out of sight, Severus' brow furrowed in worry as he listed off Draco's symptoms in his head. Nausea, imbalanced moods, fatigue, frequent urination, and he'd noticed that his godson's stomach had been slightly more pronounced of late... if Draco had been female, he would have made the diagnosis in a second. There was, however, a rumor... He heard Draco's footsteps approach and he immediately smoothed out his expression to indifference. “I would appreciate if you would return and inform me of Poppy's diagnosis, once she has one,” Severus said as his godson reentered the room. “I will then supply you with any potions you require. If I'm not here, you know the password to get in. I have a few of my own errands to run, but I should be back shortly.”

Draco nodded. “I will. Thank you, Severus. I will see you then.”

><><><>

Severus slipped silently into the Gryffindor common room and spotted Potter exactly where he had expected to: cozy on the couch and surrounded by a horde of small, snot-nosed Gryffindor hero-worshipers. A tiny first-year girl leaned forward, watching his hand closely as he slowly demonstrated the basic swish-and-flick movement of Wingardium Leviosa. She then took up her own wand, waved it around ineffectually a few times as Potter attempted to correct her, and then squealed in delight as the end table to the left of the couch lifted slowly off the ground. Severus was fairly certain that she had been aiming for the pillow on top of table and not the table itself, but at least the spell had been successful.

If only inwardly, Severus had to admit that Potter had thrown himself into the role of Head of Gryffindor House with an impressive amount of dedication. He involved himself with his students to an unprecedented level, to the point where his students seemed to view him as almost a fatherly figure instead of a professor-at least outside of the classroom. Severus had muttered rather loudly at first that the sudden lack of points lost in Gryffindor was due to Potter's favoritism of his students and lack of discipline until one evening when he saw him scold a pair of fourth-year students who had been using a first-year as spell practice. He had never seen Potter so angry with a student, but his anger was not the most important component to his method of discipline. Severus, unseen in a shadowed alcove, had been able to watch the students' expression while Potter dressed them down, and he had noticed a marked difference in their attitude than in any of the multitude of students he had ever disciplined. When he punished a student, he could tell that they regretted being caught at whatever petty misdemeanor they had been involved in, but they had never regretted actually committing the act. Potter's students had been genuinely remorseful that they had disappointed their mentor. Severus had not muttered quite so much after that, knowing that Potter gave his students good reasons not to misbehave.

The loud thunk of the end table reuniting with the ground rather abruptly jerked Severus out of his thoughts. The young girl skipped away to show off her new skill to her friends and Severus stepped from the shadows of the entryway. Potter noticed him immediately.

“Professor Snape,” he greeted cordially, rising to his feet.

“Professor Potter,” Severus returned. “I'm here to speak to you about the incident caused by your students in my office yesterday.”

“Of course,” Potter replied. “If you would follow me, we can discuss the issue privately,” he offered, gesturing in the direction of his office.

“That would be preferable.” Severus followed Potter into his small office located just off the Gryffindor common room. Potter closed the door and cast a myriad of privacy spells on it before turning back to Severus and relaxing into a grin.

“Come, sit,” he said, waving at the extra chair in front of his desk. “What are you really here about, Professor Snape?”

Severus scowled at him. “I beg your pardon?”

Potter raised an eyebrow-an expression he surely must have learned from Draco. “Really, Professor, it's Saturday. There's no way you'd bother yourself about such a trivial matter on a Saturday.”

“It is not trivial!” Severus found himself protesting, even though it was true. He hadn't planned on addressing the issue until Monday, after the weekly staff meeting-it had simply been a convenient excuse to talk to Potter alone. He didn't like that Potter had been able to figure him out so easily.

Potter chuckled slightly. “I know it's important to you, but Professor, your pickled animals and... things... were doing the Argentinian tango across your desk! It was the most hilarious thing I've seen in a long time.”

Severus' scowl deepened and Potter held his hands up in surrender. “Don't worry, I'll discipline them appropriately. Now, to the real reason you're here, if you don't mind?” Severus continued to scowl at him. “The sooner you tell me the sooner you can go about your Saturday, you know.”

Severus sighed. Damn it all to hell, the boy was right. “Draco came to see me this morning.”

Potter nodded, looking spectacularly unsurprised. “I figured he would.”

“Excuse me?” Severus asked, before he could stop himself.

Potter grinned slyly. “I knew when I finally forced him to seek medical help, he would first try to beg potions from you in an attempt to avoid putting himself into Madam Pomfrey's rather overprotective hands. I also knew that when you found out why he wanted potions, you would send him down to the hospital wing in short order. Was I correct?” he asked. Severus nodded and Potter's grin widened. “I got what I wanted in the end, it just took Draco longer to get there, and he had to be lectured by more people on the way,” he added, chuckling.

Severus shook his head. “You out-Slytherined my godson. Again.”

Potter shrugged. “I have to keep him on his toes somehow,” he said with a smirk.

“Indeed.”

Potter's carefree facade fell then. “So do you have any idea what's wrong with Draco?”

Severus hesitated. “I have an idea,” he finally said. “That's actually why I came to talk to you. I need to speak to Lucius about my suspicion. It might... run in the family, you could say. Knowing my godson as I do, I have a feeling he has an illegal Floo connection from your quarters to Malfoy Manor, correct?”

Potter shook his head. “Not even Draco is bold enough to try to slip a Floo connection between the home of a convicted ex-Death Eater to a school full of children past the recently-sharpened eyes of the Ministry.”

Severus was surprised and disappointed. He had been sure that Draco had some way to visit the Manor from Hogwarts.

“We do, however,” Potter continued, “have a perfectly legal Floo connection from our quarters to a rather remote little cottage that we own out in the country, which does happen to have an illegal Floo connection to Malfoy Manor.”

Severus nearly laughed. Now that sounded more like his godson.

“I don't suppose you'd give me a hint of what you suspect, eh?” Potter asked.

Severus simply looked at him.

“I thought not, but it was worth a try.” Potter levered himself back to his feet. “Come on, the fireplace is right through here,” he said, leading the way to a door behind his desk, which led into the quarters that he and Draco shared. He ushered the Potions professor to the fireplace, offered him a handful of Floo powder, and told him where to find the Floo jar at the cottage.

“I hope you figure out what's wrong with him,” Potter told him rather anxiously as Severus got ready to leave.

“I hope that as well, Potter.”

><><><>

Lucius looked up from his ledgers in surprise when his oldest friend appeared in the doorway of his study.

“Severus? To what do I owe the honor of your presence in my home on this fine Saturday morning?”

The potions master scowled. Honestly, the man needn't remind him.

“I'm here on behalf of your son, actually.”

“Oh?” he asked casually, though Severus could see his worry in the furrow between his brows. “Has he developed suicidal tendencies, along with his unnatural affection for his pet Potter, to disturb you today?”

“No, nothing so extreme. I just have a few questions for you, if you don't mind.”

“Sure, ask away.”

“How much can you tell me about your uncle?”

Lucius' brows drew together in confusion. Severus took the opportunity to make himself comfortable in one of the large winged armchairs that were ranged around the room.

“My uncle Corvus? I can't think of anything important you don't already know about him, nasty bastard that he was.”

“No, not Corvus, the other one. Your father's younger brother.”

Lucius forehead wrinkled as he thought, before clearing suddenly in remembrance. “Right, there was a big scandal. Eridanus, I think his name was. He was disowned.”

“Do you remember why?”

“Something about him being 'deviant.' He had a male lover, perhaps?” Lucius directed a sharp look at Severus. “Whatever gave you the idea that I was going to disown Draco? Potter might not be my first choice as a partner for my only son, and I can't say I don't regret that the Malfoy line will end with him...” His expression cleared at the shock on Severus' face. “That wasn't why you were asking about my uncle, was it?”

“Merlin, Lucius, I know you would never disown Draco.”

“Good. Why were you asking me about him, then?”

“Christmas Eve of our fifth year, I was here with you, like I often was during the holidays, and a stranger knocked on the door. Do you remember that?”

Lucius thought a moment. “Yes...” he said slowly. “It was Eridanus' lover, and he had a small boy with him. He claimed that the boy was his and Eridanus' child... he spouted some nonsense about Eridanus getting pregnant. He said that Eridanus had recently died and he and the boy were destitute. He was trying to claim that the boy was a Malfoy to get money from Father. Father laughed at him and turned him away.”

“Did you believe him?”

Lucius gave a short laugh. “Of course not. Men can't get pregnant.”

“The boy certainly looked like he had Malfoy blood in him. I remember thinking that he looked exactly like you did when you were his age.”

“Yes, I suppose he did, but the more likely story is that Eridanus got some young lady in trouble and then took charge of the boy.”

“Eridanus was homosexual enough to stand against your grandfather's insistence that he at least pretend to have normal inclinations; why would he then turn around and sleep with a woman?”

“I have no idea; perhaps he had a moment of sanity,” Lucius replied, with the beginnings of annoyance. “Where are you going with this, Severus?”

Severus shrugged lightly. “Draco has been experiencing an odd assortment of ailments lately, and I was wondering if the stories about your uncle were true.”

“I'm not sure I see the correlation here,” Lucius said slowly. Severus gave him a long look and he paled several shades. “Oh dear Merlin, save and preserve me. You think Draco's pregnant.”

“I think it's a possibility.”

“How is that possible, exactly?”

“I have heard about it before, though admittedly always as a myth. A few years ago, however, I came to acquire several ancient potions tomes, almost all of which had at least one potion specifically for assisting males with their pregnancies. I started to wonder then if the myth had some truth to it.”

“Merlin,” was all Lucius could say as he buried his face in his hands.

“I simply wanted to make sure my memory of the visit of your uncle's lover matched with yours; it's all rather fuzzy now, and I didn't remember most of the details”

“Yes, that's how I remembered it, as well.”

“I need to go back to Hogwarts. I'm curious to see whether Poppy has given Draco a diagnosis yet.”

Lucius raised his head from his hands. “Could you owl me as soon as you find out? If it turns out that you're correct, I'll dig through the library and see if I can find anything on the subject.”

Severus nodded at his distraught friend. “You have my word, and I'm sure any references you could find would be highly useful.”

“Thank you, Severus. Good luck dealing with my son if that is the case. I can't imagine that he would take that news well.”

><><><>

As he approached the portrait that guarded his quarters, Severus was only slightly surprised to see an irate Poppy Pomfrey standing outside. As he approached the scowling nurse, he wondered idly why in Merlin's name he hadn't continued to allow the world to believe him to be dead after Voldemort fell. Life was so much easier when one lived in seclusion. But no, the Malfoys had somehow managed to convince him to come back and teach. That whole bloody family was going to drive him to an early death.

Poppy pounced on him as soon as he got within hearing range. “The boy is hysterical!” she declared, pointing at his closed door. “He fled from the hospital wing and locked himself in your chambers! As his godfather, I'm begging you, talk some sense into him!”

Severus sighed deeply. “What was your diagnosis?” he asked.

“Well, I know that you might find this hard to believe, but I ran every test there is and there's very little doubt that he's, well...”

“He's pregnant, isn't he?”

She stared at him, mouth agape, for a moment before she remembered herself. “I... you... well, yes.”

“I thought so. Give me a few moments with him.” Mentally preparing himself, Severus murmured the password and the somber nobleman in the portrait that guarded his door nodded deferentially before swinging open.

“Severus, thank Merlin,” Draco exclaimed as his godfather stepped through the entryway. His expression of relief disappeared as soon as he saw the mediwitch on Severus' heels. “Don't let that madwoman in here! She's insane, I tell you! Do you know what she thinks is wrong with me? It's ridiculous! Impossible!”

“Poppy, could you please wait outside while I try to calm him down?” Severus asked with a heavy sigh. The mediwitch sniffed disapprovingly, but backed out into the hall and closed the door, leaving the two men alone. “Now, Draco, you need to sit down and calm down. All of this anxiety isn't good for your child.”

“My wha-Severus, not you, too! Is this some prank you all decided to play on me?” Draco demanded. Then his eyes went wide. “You could do it, too! You could slip potions into my food that I'd never taste, potions that could cause the symptoms I've been having!”

Severus gave his godson a long, cold look. “Yes, because I am notorious for my vicious pranks. That's why James Potter and I were so close-we shared a love of making other people miserable.”

Draco deflated considerably. “I can't be pregnant, Severus,” he said desperately. “I can't! I'm a man!”

“Yes, I'm aware of that, but it is not unheard of in the wizarding world for men to become pregnant in relationships where there is no woman to carry a child, especially when one or both of the partners is unusual powerful.”

Draco sat down and covered his face in his hands. “Like Harry and myself,” he said, his voice muffled.

“Exactly.”

Draco spoke again, but Severus couldn't make out the words.

“If you could repeat that, please?”

“What am I supposed to do with a baby?” Draco asked a bit louder.

Severus studied his godson for a long moment. “You will carry it, give birth to it, love it, teach it, and hope that it becomes a decent person. That's all you can do. I'll be here to guide you, as will your parents, and Potter will be by your side. You are not alone,” Severus assured softly, squeezing Draco's shoulder comfortingly.

Draco looked up at his godfather and nodded. “I know. Thank you Severus.”

“Come, let's let the Dragon in, and she and I will discuss what potions you need to begin taking. Pregnancy is harder on the male body than it is on the female.

Draco winced, though whether it was at the prospect of a hard pregnancy or letting Poppy back in the room, Severus wasn't sure.

When an emotionally exhausted Draco headed back to his quarters after two hours of listening to the potions master and the mediwitch argue, Severus watched him go, knowing that his godson's next challenge would be to inform his partner. As he eased himself down into an armchair with a large snifter of brandy, he began mentally listing off all of the potions he knew that could cause unspeakable discomfort, just in case Potter got it into his thick head to be anything short of completely supportive.

><><><>

The next morning, Severus had just vanished his breakfast dishes when there was a knock at the door. Not again, he thought to himself with a sigh. The knock was far too timid to be Draco. Potter, perhaps.

“Enter,” he called. Sure enough, a tousled black head appeared around the door as it slowly swung open.

“Good morning, Professor,” the boy said, seeming much more morose than was his usual style.

“It was,” Severus said pointedly, but felt oddly repentant when he saw the boy wince visibly. It looked like he hadn't been sleeping well, but he supposed that wasn't too surprising, considering the news he must have received yesterday. “How are you holding up?” he asked brusquely, trying not to sound as concerned as he felt. He told himself that he was only worried for Draco's sake.

Surprised, Potter looked up for the first time, and Severus was taken aback at how disheartened those usually cheerful green eyes seemed.

“Did you and Draco have a disagreement?” The boy looked back down at his feet quickly-surely he hadn't seen tears brimming in those eyes before they were shadowed again by that infernally messy hair? Potter nodded in an odd, disjointed way.

“About his... condition?” Severus asked carefully.

Potter nodded again, and then spoke after several long moments. “He won't tell me, Professor. Why won't he tell me?” The broken, hoarse sound of his voice proved that the boy was, indeed, near tears.

Severus stared at him, aghast. “Draco hasn't told you yet? What in Merlin's name is the boy waiting for?” It was a rhetorical question, but Potter shrugged awkwardly in reply anyway.

“He was really quiet when he came in last night... he barely said two words to me. Then, this morning... this morning, when I asked him how he was feeling, he blew up at me, said something about me always being in his business and... and said he didn't have to put up with me anymore. Then he stormed out.” The boy was quite, seemingly lost in unpleasant thoughts, before speaking again. “Is it something I need to know, Professor, or should I just wait until Draco's ready to tell me?”

“It is something you need to know, most certainly, but it would be best if Draco told you himself. It's nothing life-threatening, so you can at least be at ease about that. In fact, it doesn't necessarily have to be a bad thing at all, unless the two of you insist on making it into one.” Severus shook his head again. “I have no idea why Draco hasn't informed you, but I will talk to him about it the next time I see him, I promise you.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Potter replied before wincing again, probably in reaction to the way his voice had cracked at the end of the sentence. “I'll get out of your hair now. Have a good Sunday.”

“I will try to,” Severus replied, watching in no little relief as Potter turned and headed for the door. He needed to get the boy out of his quarters before he did something ridiculous-like hugged him. “Harry,” he said, when the boy opened the door. Harry turned around in surprise at the use of his given name. “It'll be all right, in the end.”

The boy offered him a weak, but seemingly sincere smile, and then disappeared.

><><><>

When Harry got back to his quarters he leaned back against the door and ran his hand roughly through his hair in frustration and concern. He didn't understand why Draco wouldn't tell him what was going on. Why had Draco given him the cold shoulder last night? He'd seemed alternately helpless and angry, and Harry had wanted nothing more than to hold him and comfort him and take all the bad feelings away, but Draco had had his walls up. Harry had learned fairly early on in their relationship that it was better to wait until Draco wasn't quite so much on the defensive before trying to approach him. His walls usually relaxed a bit after a day or two, and then more progress could be made towards fixing things. Harry had known he was taking a chance when he had asked Draco how he was feeling, but he hadn't expected Draco to react quite so violently. Had Harry done something wrong? It couldn't have been just be because Harry was expressing his concern. He glanced sadly down at where the shattered remains of their breakfast dishes had been when he'd left to talk to Severus-gone now, thanks to the house-elves. He knew that no matter how much loyalty Severus felt towards Draco, if he thought Harry needed to know what was going on, he would tell him.

A furious tapping interrupted his chaotic thoughts and he looked over to see a regal and grumpy-looking owl pecking at his window-one of the Malfoy owls. He lifted the catch and opened the window so the owl could sweep in, drop its burden on the table, and sweep out haughtily again. Curious, Harry unrolled the scroll and scanned the contents, written in Narcissa's elegant, elaborate hand.

To my dearest Draco and his sweet Harry,
Lucius and I are concerned about you. I know that the two of you must be extremely busy right now, but it is very unlike you, Draco, to neglect to appear at an appointment without any kind of notice. If you could, would you please send word with Reginald that you both are all right?
Your mother,
Narcissa

Harry cursed silently. In all of the uproar caused by Draco's mysterious illness, Harry had completely forgotten that he and Draco had agreed to have brunch at the Manor this morning. He sighed as he realized that Reginald had left without waiting for any kind of response, and he would have to walk all the way up to the Owlery to fetch Hedwig. The best option would probably be to simply attend the brunch a bit late. He scrawled a quick note to Draco on the bottom of Narcissa's letter, and gathered a handful of Floo powder from the jar on the mantle.

><><><>

Severus sighed as he flipped randomly through the stack of essays on his desk, red-inked quill at the ready. He had just moved to jot a scathing note in the margin of the top paper when he heard a knock from the living room. Again? he thought, getting to his feet. He opened the door.

“Good morning, Severus,” Draco greeted as he entered and closed the door behind him.

“Not quite. It's just past noon.”

Draco made a face at him, and Severus noticed that he looked fairly upset, which reminded him of Potter.

“Your partner was here earlier.”

Draco's eyes went wide with fear. “What did you tell him? Did you tell him that I'm... I'm...”

“No, you foolish boy, I just assured him that you weren't about to die. You're lucky I didn't tell him by accident-I had assumed he would know by now.”

Draco looked away, his cheeks coloring.

“Why haven't you told him, Draco?”

His godson muttered something he couldn't understand.

“What was that?”

“I was afraid, all right?” Draco spat.

“No, not all right,” Severus replied, taken slightly aback. “What were you afraid of? Potter is not exactly fear-inspiring, you know.”

“I'm afraid he'll want to leave me,” Draco said, his eyes on his well-polished shoes.

“Leave you?” Severus asked incredulously. “That boy is ridiculously fond of you. Besides, his Gryffindor sense of honor and duty would never let him leave anyone in this position.”

Draco's head snapped up. “Don't you understand; that's just it! He won't actually leave if he decides he doesn't like our... arrangement. He'll stay with me out of some twisted sense of duty, but be miserable all the while.” Draco looked pretty miserable himself. “That's even worse than leaving me, I think.”

Severus sighed deeply. “Potter is good with children, and he seems to enjoy being with them, and it's fairly obvious that he enjoys being with you, so what's the problem here?”

“I don't know anymore, honestly,” Draco said quietly, in a defeated, hopeless voice. “I don't really know why I feel so afraid. I guess I should just tell him and get it over with. He'll find out soon enough anyway,” Draco added bitterly, pressing a hand to his stomach. “I had better do it now. I hope he'll listen to me... I sort of lost it this morning when he asked after my health. I felt like he was purposefully pressuring me, even though I know that's ridiculous, and I screamed and broke things and really behaved quite awfully. I can't seem to control my temper at all anymore.” Draco sighed. “Do you know where he went after he talked to you?”

“No, I have no idea.” Draco nodded his thanks and turned to leave. “Oh, Draco, one more thing. You should be aware that your parents know of your... situation.” Severus had owled Lucius yesterday evening, as he had promised, and it would be better if Draco was forewarned before his mother got a hold of him.

“Oh?” Draco asked in surprise. “How did they find out?” Before Severus could reply, Draco's eyes widened dramatically. “Oh, shite! My parents!”

Severus raised a bewildered eyebrow as his godson became increasingly frantic.

“Harry and I had a brunch date at the Manor this morning! If Harry went on without me and my mother knows...”

Draco trailed off in dismay, but Severus could make the connection himself. If he knew Narcissa, she would be anxious to start planning complicated social gatherings to celebrate her son's pregnancy and she, like Severus had earlier, would likely assume that Harry was aware of Draco's condition.

“I have to find him!” Draco groaned, desperate.

“You can take my Floo to your quarters, if you'd like.” His godson gratefully took him up on his offer and disappeared in a whirl of panic. Severus stared at the flames long after they had lost their green tint, silently wishing him luck.

><><><>

Two Floos later, Harry arrived in the living room of Malfoy Manor. He brushed himself off carefully before stepping on the expanse of white carpet that covered the Malfoy's living room floor, despite knowing that it was charmed against any sort of filth.

Hearing the roar of the Floo from the other room, Narcissa breezed in gracefully before stopping in surprise.

“Harry, dear!” she exclaimed. “I'm so glad to see you!”

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Malfoy,” he said with a smile. “I'm sorry I'm late.”

“Oh, don't worry about it. I know how crazy everything must be. And where is my amazing son?”

“Um,” Harry said, uncomfortably, reflexively threading his fingers through his hair, “I'm not sure, exactly. He sort of disappeared earlier.”

A look of understanding flickered across her face and she patted his shoulder lightly. “Don't dwell on it too much, dear. It's to be expected, really, from those who are expecting.”

Harry looked at her in confusion. Expecting? What was Draco expecting?

“Anyway, come on through to the dining room; I'm sure there's a bit of brunch left on the table, and we have so much to discuss!”

Still feeling like there was something he was missing, Harry seated himself gratefully and filled his plate. Lucius looked up from the head of the table and nodded politely at Harry before returning to his Eggs Benedict. Narcissa waited contentedly until Harry was munching on his second pastry before she spoke again.

“Now, I want your input in all of the arrangements,” she began, ignoring the weary look her husband shot at her. “Do you have an idea for the best date for the shower? How many people are you planning on inviting? I need to add your guests and Draco's to my list before I buy the cards. I don't suppose you know yet whether we'll be needing pink or blue decorations?” She paused at the expression on Harry's face. “Or were you wanting to do something more unconventional, like green or yellow? I wouldn't mind green, but...”

“Whoa, hold on, Mrs. Malfoy! Who are all these arrangements for?”

She stared at him for a second and Lucius gave him an incredulous look. “Well, Draco, of course,” she replied. “You didn't think I'd let my only child give birth to his first baby with no ceremony at all, did you?”

Harry's bottom jaw landed somewhere in his lap as his mind went blank with incomprehension. He gathered himself up enough to ask, “Draco's going to what?!?” He vaguely registered that he hadn't realized his voice could enter that octave.

The Malfoys were looking almost as shocked as him. “Draco hasn't told you?” Lucius finally asked.

Harry shook his head wordlessly. “I hadn't even realized that was possible,” he marveled, amazed yet again by the things that could happen in the wizarding world.

“Actually, neither did we,” Narcissa admitted. “It's so extremely uncommon that it is mostly regarded as a myth. I didn't know it was actually possible until, well, Draco. I can't believe he hasn't told you yet,” she said, shaking her head.

“I knew that there was something going on; he's been off for a month now... but I never even imagined...”

“Well, obviously,” Lucius interjected as he unfolded the Prophet with a sharp snap.

“I wonder why he didn't feel like he could tell me?” Harry asked sadly, mostly to himself, but Narcissa answered him anyway.

“Perhaps he was worried that you didn't want children, since the two of you didn't really have the opportunity to talk it over beforehand.”

“Yeah, I suppose. He should know he can talk to me about anything.” He shook his head then and sighed. “ No matter how many times I've assured him that it will never happen, Draco has always been worried that I'm going to find something about him that I don't like and drop him, just like that. I had hoped that time and experience would ease his anxiety, but I should have known that if I didn't sit down with him and deal with it, it would just come to a head in some way.”

Lucius peered contemplatively at him over the top of the paper for a moment before folding it again and standing.

“If you come with me, Harry, I have some materials that might help you.” Startled, Harry got to his feet and followed Lucius down the hallway to the library. “I promised Severus earlier that I would gather all of the books on male pregnancies that I could find in our library-it seems to have been more common in the 15th century, and the Malfoy library is overflowing with ancient texts,” he said as he gestured towards a stack of about a dozen books on a large, well-lit wooden desk. “I believe you should look through them before I send them on to Severus, as the information pertains to you more directly. The top three are exclusively about male pregnancy, and then the relevance goes down from there. ”

“Thank you, Mr. Malfoy,” Harry said, feeling rather dazed from the day's events. Finding out that his partner was carrying his child and having both Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy being kind to him in one day was a little too much to handle.

“It's Lucius, Harry. You've helped to give me a grandchild, and you've also always made my son inexplicably happy. I think you've earned to call me by my first name.”

Harry was pretty sure his head was going to explode. “Thank you... Lucius.”

“You're welcome. Feel free to use the library to read, or you can take the books back with you, if you prefer.”

Harry nodded absently and buried himself in the top book, determined to absorb all he could.

He quickly lost himself in the pages, and it wasn't until he noticed that he was having difficulty reading the faded, crabbed letters that he realized how much time had passed. It was already getting dark. It was late November, so the sun always set early, but it still had to be five at the very earliest. If Draco had returned to their quarters and found Harry's note... surely he would realize that Narcissa would say something about the pregnancy. Then, when Harry didn't come home, coupled with his own insecurity, he would fear the worst. Cursing himself backwards and forwards, Harry gathered up the books he'd found most helpful and took off at a run towards the Malfoys' main fireplace.

><><><>

Harry stumbled through the Floo, looking frantically around for Draco. Two steps from the fireplace he spotted him curled up on the couch, a piece of parchment that Harry presumed was his note clenched in his hand.

“Oh, Draco,” he murmured, feeling like the biggest arse in the world. He deposited his load of books on the coffee table and perched himself quietly on the arm of the couch by Draco's head, gently brushing the blond's hair out of his face. Draco's silver eyes fluttered open and met his instantly. As his waking disorientation faded, he pulled away from Harry and sat up, watching him warily.

“Draco, I'm so very, very sorry,” Harry whispered urgently. “I completely lost track of time-I didn't think-please forgive me,” he begged.

“I thought you left me,” Draco said hoarsely, his voice breaking. He wouldn't meet Harry's eyes.

“Oh, no. No, no, no, no.” Draco was still staring at his hands, folded in his lap. He gently cupped Draco's face in his hands, forcing his chin up. “Draco, look at me. I will never, ever leave you. I love you, Draco, and I will love our child.” A small, choked sob escaped the blond and Harry pulled Draco against his body. Draco was silent and his shoulders only shook slightly, but Harry could feel the hot tears soaking into his shirt. “I know that you've been insecure about this relationship from the start and, since you never seemed to believe me when I tried to tell you, I had hoped that you would simply realize in time that I love all of you, no exceptions. I'm going to tell you again, and this time you're going to listen to me, all right?”

Draco pulled back and nodded slightly, his gray eyes boring into Harry's green ones.

“I love you unconditionally. I know that you are moody on the best of days and downright nasty on the worst. I know that you are stubborn and spoiled and-even though you're doing a lot better than when we first met-you can still be extremely prejudiced against Muggles and Muggleborns. I know that your temper is going to be even more unpredictable in the upcoming months. That's where I've been all evening: reading about male pregnancies because I want to know everything there is to know on the subject. I want to be prepared for the hardships to come and able to help you any way I can. You need to sincerely believe I will love you when your moods change in a split second for no reason at all, when you want peanut butter ice cream at four in the morning, and when you get too far along to be able to have sex with me. You need to understand that I will continue to view you as the most beautiful man I know even as your belly swells, along with your ankles and other various body parts. I don't love you despite anything, Draco; I love you because of all the little things that make you yourself. I knew what I was getting into when I kissed you for the first time, and I have never regretted choosing you as my partner. Not even once.”

Draco sniffed a bit. “Really, Harry?” he asked, looking the most vulnerable that Harry had ever seen him.

“Really. I love you, Draco.”

“I love you, too, Harry. I'm sorry that I've been doubting you.”

Harry pulled Draco close against him again. “It's okay, love. I'm sorry I didn't do a better job explaining it to you before. But you understand now?” He felt the blond nod against his shoulder. “This baby is an absolute miracle, you know. I've always dreamed of having children that I could love and ensure that they had a better childhood than mine, but when I figured out that I was gay, I'd given it up as impossible.”

“That might be a good name for her.”

Harry drew back slightly, surprised. “You already know that it's a girl?”

Draco nodded. “Pomfrey told me.”

“And you want to name her Miracle?” Harry asked, wincing slightly.

“Mmm,” Draco said, tilting his head in consideration. “We could name her Mira. That's normal enough. Only we would have to know what it's short for.”

Harry grinned widely. “I love it, Draco. You hear that, little Miracle?” he asked, leaning down towards Draco's stomach. “We love you already.”

Touched, Draco smiled softly and cupped Harry's face in his hand. “You know, I never believed in miracles before you and I put aside our differences long enough to figure out that all we really wanted was to shag each other senseless. Now, I have two of them in my life.”

“Two?” Harry asked.

“Yes, you and our baby,” Draco replied, before silencing any further words with a long, passionate, and completely secure kiss.