HD INSPIRATION FOR WINNETT
Author: me_midget
Recipient: winnett
Title: Under His Skin (Part 2 of 2)
Under His Skin (Part 1 of 2)
Part II
A letter from Hermione ended Harry's wallowing in self-pity. She told him about how things were going Down Under and that everything was fine. They had found her parents and were busy undoing the memory charm that Hermione had cast on them. The process was slow, but seemed to work, which was a good thing in itself, and Hermione supposed that they would stay for two or three more weeks before returning to England. Ron sent his greetings in the form of an inquest about the latest Quidditch results, which made Harry grin for the first time in ages. He couldn't wait for them to come home.
Just when Harry took out some paper to write back to his friends someone knocked at the door. It was a determined knock, a knock that didn't accept that the door was still closed, and one was used to being obeyed. Harry did just that and opened the door wearily after casting a quick security spell to check that the person outside didn't want to harm him.
Which was why he was quite surprised to see Narcissa Malfoy standing right in front of him. This, however, was nothing compared to the shock Harry got when the same Narcissa Malfoy, wife of Lucius Malfoy and mistress over the Malfoy estate, stepped up to him and hugged him with the words: "Harry, my boy, it's good to see you."
Stunned he let her in - or rather didn't say anything as she let herself in. Instead he closed the door and followed her to the kitchen, where she had begun to boil water. From the looks of it she had brought her own tea set, which could only mean that Draco had told her about the camomile tea. Weird what people would talk about when there were so many more important things.
"Mrs Malfoy, I -"
"Please, call me Narcissa," the woman interrupted him and sent him a charming smile. Suddenly, there was nothing left of the sneering lady that looked like something was rotting in front of her nose. Narcissa looked rather like one of those ideal, golden mother-witches from the magazines - only that she was clearly wealthier than all of them combined. "You don't mind, do you?" She pointed at the tea set and Harry shook his head, watching as she poured them two cups - one with camomile tea. "Why don't we sit down?" Harry nodded again and gratefully took the cup she floated over to him, if only for that fact that now he had something to cling to.
"You know, you don't have to look so terrified, Harry. I'm not going to do anything vile to you." Narcissa informed him and crossed her legs primly.
"I know," Harry mumbled. He had, after all, performed the security check on her. "But ... what are you doing here?"
"Right to those questions?" Narcissa sighed. "Yes, well, I suppose this is not the time for pleasant chit-chat anyway." The way she said that implied that there would be another time for that, which implied that she would be visiting again. And that was a little bit unnerving for Harry. "You see, Harry, a couple of days ago my son came storming through our front doors while I was on my way to the winter gardens. You may think that this is a usual occurrence, but I can tell you that I know my son very well and I knew that something was wrong. So I sat him down and made him tell me everything about him and you." Harry's eyes widened comically, but Narcissa just tsked. "Not every single detail, darling. He is my son, after all, and I do not want to die of a stroke. Anyway, he told me that you are pregnant with his child and that he had told you that he didn't want to have anything to do with you or the child. Is that correct?" Harry looked down at his cup and nodded. Yes, basically that was it, with insults and a lot of screaming on top.
"Now you might wonder about my visit. I can tell you, Harry, that I do not agree with the way my son handled this. Actually we had a very long and unpleasant discussion about this topic, resulting in him only speaking to me in grunts and glares now as if he was one of those terrible Goyles, but that is a completely different story." Harry stared at Narcissa as she breathed in deeply. How women could talk that much and that fast without breathing would forever be a miracle to him. "I just want you to know that I will not do what my son has done. The child that you are bearing is my very first grandchild and I am not about to give up on the chance to take part in that." She smiled at him. Warmly. Harry felt like his head was spinning and he desperately held onto his teacup. He had just won a mother-in-law.
That was how Harry came to have the great honour of calling Narcissa Malfoy by her given name and to have her over for tea every couple of days. Despite his doubts at first that he and Narcissa would get on she was quite nice to talk to, even if most of their conversations circled around superficial themes and the baby, though Harry was still a bit too shy to talk about that too much. He just couldn't bring himself to think too far into the future, and the thought of actually feeling the baby move inside him and giving birth scared the hell out of him.
But apart from that it was great to have someone to talk to who knew about the pregnancy, with whom he didn't feel like the biggest liar on earth just because he didn't tell them about the baby and Draco.
Draco himself, though, didn't contact him at all. There weren't even any messages that he sent via his mother. In fact Harry and Narcissa usually avoided talking about Draco. Harry didn't dare to inquire about him and whenever Draco's name came up Harry would look away and try not to show that his eyes had gone a bit misty. To himself he always said it was all because of the hormones.
***
Then, on a quite rainy Saturday afternoon someone knocked at the door, jerking Harry out of his nap. He looked around wildly before he realised the source of the noise and then practically jumped up in hope and excitement to open the door.
Finally! Finally Draco had come to apologize and to say --
Hermione and Ron were standing in front of the door, beaming at him.
"Hey Harry!" Hermione called and rushed over to him to give him a squeezing hug. "It's so good to see you!" She pushed him away a bit, still holding his arms and checking his features, before giving him an approving nod and walking into his flat.
"Hi there, mate," Ron greeted him and slapped him on the shoulder. Harry gave him a weak grin and tried not to let show that he was disappointed in who his guests were. He was doing a piss-poor job of it, naturally, and Ron sent a questioning frown at him, then followed Hermione.
"Did everything go well with your parents?" Harry asked Hermione and sat down at the kitchen table while Hermione puttered around in his kitchen.
"Yes, thank you. -- Say, don't you have coffee anymore?" Hermione glanced at the long unused coffee machine and then found the camomile tea-bags. "Never mind, this will do." A swish and two flicks and water was starting to heat up.
"Everything alright with you, Harry?" Ron asked.
"Yes, yes, fine. How has Australia been?" Harry quickly asked and exhaled deeply as Hermione launched into an enthusiastic description of their mission/holiday. She told him about all the places they had visited and the people they had met - her parents had apparently made a couple of new friends Down Under. Listening to her tales and Ron's additions, he very nearly got jealous and wished he would have gone too. He had never been outside of Britain, had in fact never travelled much before the war had openly broken out - and even then Harry wouldn't really call their constant fleeing and moving 'travelling'. This might have been his chance. Especially considering what was lying before him now.
And he just had to wonder if he maybe wouldn't be pregnant now if he had gone away. He didn't know the date of the conception and maybe - just maybe - he might have avoided this.
But that was over, his chances gone and he was Harry - pregnant, single, and lonely.
"Now," Hermione interrupted Harry's musings, "tell us what's up. Something isn't quite right - even Ron can see it." She ignored the slightly offended look that she received from her boyfriend and concentrated on Harry, who was busy staring at his tea and trying to find the right words.
Of course they wouldn't come, because what were the right words to tell your friends that you, a guy, were pregnant by a guy who they hated? There were no right words, none at all.
"Out with it," Ron grunted. He was apparently still miffed about the lack of beer in Harry's freezer.
"I'm pregnant."
Ron started to laugh out loud and slapped his hands on his knees. "Good one, mate! Not that we'd buy that for a second, 'course, 'Mione will want an answer anyway -"
"Ron," Hermione interrupted her boyfriend, trying to quiet him with a sideways movement of her hand. She looked worriedly at Ron, trying to communicate wordlessly like every couple seemed to be able to, then back at Harry. "I think he's serious."
Harry only nodded numbly and swallowed. Telling them, admitting his failure, hurt indescribably. Somehow it had been his own fault. He should have known, should have protected himself and now this tarnish was on him. Harry felt a hand touching his and looked up at Hermione, who was standing in front of him.
"Oh Harry," she said and hugged him tenderly. Harry closed his eyes and let himself be engulfed by her comforting, familiar smell. "It was Malfoy, wasn't it?" He nodded again and barely flinched when Ron started a long string of curses and promises to emasculate Draco. Hermione and Ron somehow managed to help him onto the sofa, where he lay motionlessly with his head on Hermione's lap while he explained in as few words as possible how exactly it was possible for him to be pregnant.
***
Two nights later Harry found once again that he couldn't sleep. He had done everything in his power to fall asleep, but even though he was tired he just couldn't bring himself to fall into Hypnos' waiting arms. Warm milk with honey didn't do anything for him, nor did airing the room with cold, clear night air, counting Grindylows or tossing and turning.
Sitting in an armchair near the big window in the living room, huddled in a blanket and resting his head against the back of the chair, Harry stared into the sky. He could see Orion without a problem now. It was as if there was someone looking out for him somewhere up there. Maybe there really was.
God, how Harry wished that he could talk to his parents now. He needed parental advise so badly and there was no one, absolutely no one he would dare to talk about what was going on in his head.
Ron had told him to forget about Malfoy. He had said that Harry's life was better 'without that arsehole' and it was probably the best way to go about things, but Harry couldn't. He had no illusions about that sort of thing anymore. Even if he wasn't pregnant, even if Draco wasn't a Veela he would still long for him. He would want to be with him.
But Draco didn't want that. And who could hate him for it? Draco wanted to be free after everything that had happened to him, and who was Harry to say that he wasn't allowed to be? He would have preferred that for himself, too. And binding Draco to him only because he was expecting Draco 's child wasn't the right thing to do. They wouldn't be happy that way.
It didn't make Harry want Draco less, though. He wanted him in his bed, wanted his touch, his voice, his smell, wanted his presence in this apartment.
Harry sighed heavily. He was used to his wishes being denied, wasn't he? It was for the best, he told himself - but believing himself was not a thing he could do.
***
Harry peered at himself in the mirror. Was or wasn't there a bump now? He turned, made a bit of a hollow-back and squinted at his image. If he looked closely ... He stepped a bit closer to the mirror. Yes, of course! There was a bump! It was tiny, barely existent, but to Harry his practically flat stomach looked completely changed
He gazed down in marvel at his stomach and ran his hand over the flesh as if caressing the actual baby. He was only in beginning of the pregnancy and already couldn't wait to feel the child moving in him. Slowly he was finding himself fiiting into the role of a pregnant man and things were starting to get a bit better. Hermione and Ron came over for visits quite often, there were the weekly Weasley dinners, and Narcissa came also by every couple of days. Not that their relationship had become much deeper than before.
Harry had taken up on reading everything on pregnancy - especially male pregnancy - that he could get his hands on. He wanted to be prepared - though he still avoided looking at the birth-pictures. There were things that could spoil even a guy's appetite.
The Seventh-Year School that McGonagall had organised had started only a couple of days ago and Hermione was already in full study-mode. Harry had long hesitated over the decision of whether or not to go to school. He had confided in McGonagall about the pregnancy, but had kept the other father a secret, and had discussed his options with her. He couldn't do any duel practise for Defence, but he and McGonagall had decided that he didn't need to study much in that field as he already knew his way around, and couldn't brew any Potions either. She had suggested that he tried the year and take a reduced course load with only those subjects he might need for a job later on and he had agreed.
Even if things got a bit too much he could always take a break and finish his education a bit later or study at home. Actually McGonagall had been surprisingly laid back about the whole issue, which had made the conversation with her quite comfortable. Well, that and the cookies that she had insisted Harry ate.
***
When Harry was well into his third month the nausea had thankfully passed. School went reasonably well, especially now that he didn't have a Dark Lord anymore to distract him from his studies. Since there was no Quidditch training either, which he missed quite a lot, there was much more time to study than before.
Also Harry was slowly, but surely, starting to show - and he didn't even need to squint to see the bump now. It was weird, he thought. He looked a bit like he had spent too much time sitting on the couch rather than being up and about exercising, only that his belly was taut and nicely round looking.
He had already informed the Weasleys of his condition - Ron would have blurted it out sooner or later anyway - and even though the shock had been great (and Molly's Talk about protection had been hell) they were accepting it. There hadn't been the great fall-out like he had feared and they hadn't turned their backs on him as soon as the words had gotten out of his mouth. Though Ginny wasn't really talking to him. But George had made a whale-joke (thank God he was able to joke a bit again) and Percy had laughed and Harry knew that it was going to be alright. One thing was worrying Harry, though. Fleur had had that manic glint in her eyes and had tried to lure him onto the couch with her to discuss their pregnancies and chat about the decoration of the nurseries. Harry shuddered.
"Weird," Harry said to his image in the mirror and grinned slightly. "There's a baby inside of me." He looked down at his belly, bent a bit to get his head as close to his stomach as he could manage and whispered: "Hey, you there inside of me. It's me - your Daddy." He glanced at his watch. "And I'm going to feed us cake and tea now."
Narcissa had taken to inviting him out for tea as she was bored of sitting in his flat and Harry didn't want to go to the manor. Going out was better anyway, because Harry didn't have to bake or do anything at all. Besides, the cafes Narcissa always chose were wonderful and had the best cakes - only the best for Lady Malfoy, thank you very much.
Smoothing down his shirt Harry walked into the café and looked around for Narcissa, who so far had always arrived before him. Unlike her husband and her son Narcissa showed her superiority not via coming late and having everybody wait for her, but in being there before everyone else arrived, showing discipline and punctuality. It had actually made Harry pay closer attention to the time when he was about to meet up with someone, just because he felt incredibly uncomfortable knowing that he had let somebody wait - especially in the case of Narcissa.
"Hello, Narcissa." Harry sat down at their table, where his cup of camomile tea was already waiting for him, and smiled at the perfectly dressed woman. He had long given up on feeling underdressed next to her - it was simply no use.
"Hello, dear. How have you been doing?"
"Quite alright. I've developed -" The words died in Harry's throat as he saw Draco standing a couple of feet away from their table, Harry's eyes drawn to him because of the swift movement of his steps. They stared at each other like two pumas deciding whether to attack or not. Draco was the first to look away, leaving a sense of pride in Harry for not having given up in this battle when he had lost the previous one.
Draco sighed and sat down next to his mother. He waved a waiter over and ordered the tea first before actually looking at Harry and his mother again.
"I thought you and I were having a nice and quiet tea-time, mother," he finally said dryly. Harry tried not to feel hurt by the tone of disinterest in Draco voice and nearly succeeded.
Narcissa tugged at her robe and brushed a non-existent bit of lint away.
"We are, darling," she said primly. Of course Draco didn't agree, clearly marked by his scoff, "Only that I always have tea with Harry and I thought it'd be nice if the three of us had tea together."
Both Harry and Draco kept silent. Harry didn't know what to think of this. Clearly Draco didn't want to be here, but he felt sort of happy that Draco was here right now. He hadn't thought he would get a chance to really meet him again. On the other hand seeing Draco and knowing that there was not a fucking chance for Harry, that Draco would never grant him one, hurt like hell.
"Now listen," Narcissa's voice was quiet, but determined, leaving no room for objections, "I know that you, Draco, don't want to be here. I know that you never wanted this pregnancy to happen, but there's nothing you can do to change that. I also know that you don't want to have anything to do with the whole situation, but you are in this, whether you want it or not. This is your child and my grandchild and I plan on playing a role in his or her life. And if you don't want to break off all contact with me, you will be in contact with the baby, too. And that is why I want you two to get on."
Harry looked up at Draco and studied his face. He had no idea what Draco was thinking. Eventually Draco nodded.
***
"You don't really believe my mother's story of having a house-elf emergency at home, do you?" Draco asked as he walked Harry towards his flat. They had had supper together - all three of them - nearby and Harry had opted to walk the short distance instead of Apparating, which had become somewhat uncomfortable for him now that he was in his fourth month. It was already cold outside, especially at night, and Harry could hide his slightly red face behind a thick red scarf that was wound around his neck.
Harry looked at Draco questioningly, not bothering to free his mouth from the scarf, as he would have had to take his hands out of his comfortably warm coat pockets.
"Oh my, you really do! Potter," Harry gave Draco a look. He had told Draco weeks ago that he would much prefer it to be called Harry, seeing as he carried around Draco's baby in his growing belly. "- Harry, if there really was a house-elf emergency, even I don't know what exactly could be meant by that, you can be sure that my mother would not hurry back home."
Harry made some weird, muffled noises that sounded distinctly like a surprised question and Draco nodded.
"She wanted us to be alone. In the hope that we suddenly start humping each other or something." Draco scoffed and Harry mentally sighed. He had practically given up on humping - be it Draco or anybody else. Not that he wanted someone other than Draco, but in Harry's mind the mere possibility of someone wanting to fuck him was the unbelievable with him being pregnant and getting wider and wider each day. And Draco ... best to let Dragons rest. It was not something Harry's mind needed to dwell on.
Suddenly Harry felt his foot catch on something slippery and his foot was up in the air and it was too late, he was going to fall and - strong arms caught him and pulled him upright.
"Careful," Draco said with a rough voice and rested his hand for the tiniest fragment of a Moment on the small of Harry's back.
The place where Draco had touched him burned like flames had licked his skin. It was a comfortable warmth, but it followed him everywhere and didn't go away, not even when he went to his classes. The smile on Harry's face that had implanted itself as the imprint of a hope that Harry didn't dare to voice, stayed as well.
During the following weeks Draco always accompanied Narcissa to the tea times with Harry, saying that he deserved tea and cake as a break from all the hard studying that he did. And that was when his weird behaviour started.
First he would fetch Harry's tea from the bar when they were in cafés without waiters, saying that he would pass the bar anyway on his way from the loo. Then he started bringing Harry home every time, saying that the streets had become quite dangerous. At school he never hesitated to point out to Harry that levitating his books would be better for his back and he had even taken the liberty of floating Harry's books to the classroom for him when Harry forgot. Sometimes he even went as far as bringing Harry an apple or another piece of fruit with the words that his mother was sending them.
In mid-November Harry was sitting in the Charms room, chatting with his friends (who still didn't like Draco or his behaviour at all) when Seamus sat down next to Harry and slung his arm around him. Seamus didn't even manage to start his question before a weird noise that sounded strangely like a growl sounded through the room and Draco appeared next to Harry, glowering at Seamus. Seamus's arm dropped immediately.
"I'll see you later, Harry," he squeaked and rushed over into the safe arms of Dean. Harry turned to look at Draco and raised his eyebrows.
"Did you just growl?"
"No," Draco sniffed airily. "I do not growl."
"You did so growl."
"Did not. I don't even know why I should growl. I just came over to remind you of the tea-date with my mother." Draco walked back to his seat. Harry frowned. He had never forgotten a tea-date with Narcissa and had never needed a reminder of those. And Draco had growled; he was sure of it. Like a dog keeping others off of his patch. The thought made Harry feel warm and fuzzy inside.
***
Christmas was slowly sneaking up on the population, manifesting in shop windows, trees, in the clouds and living rooms. The scent of gingerbread was nearly constantly in the air, followed by a mist of hot chocolate and cinnamon.
Harry had to cast enlargement charms on his jumpers, because he was steadfastly refusing to go out and buy new ones. Even though he was 'openly pregnant' by now - because how could he not be with a round belly like that? - he still found the thought of going out and buying new clothes, and having to change in a shop, very uncomfortable.
It didn't keep him from strolling in the snow through Diagon Alley, however. Resting one hand comfortably on his stomach and holding a paper bag with a nice, soft, gift-wrapped scarf for Hermione in the other he walked down the street, looking through a window here, buying some hot chestnuts there. All in all it was the perfect day to do one's Christmas shopping.
He still needed to find the perfect gift for Draco. For Narcissa he had bought a perfume he was sure she would hate, but that was more or less a given with his non-existing talent for picking gifts. Draco was supposed to be easier, though, since they were both male, of the same age and enjoyed the same things. Well, mostly.
He walked past the Quidditch supplies shop - Draco had enough of that stuff - and looked around. No books, because with Draco Harry would have the same problems that he would have with Hermione - he didn't know what books both of them owned, only that there were a lot. He didn't even think about buying clothes for Draco, because Draco would never wear them anyway, since he had so much better taste in them. He needed something better. Something extraordinary. Something that would make Harry look worthy in Draco's eyes. Lost in his thoughts Harry wandered over to the display window of Eeylops Owl Emporium and stared at his reflection in the glass. He just couldn’t think of any good presents! There had to be something that even he was able to find.
The reflected movements of the passers by caught his eye and Harry let his eyes wander over them. Some of them looked like they were stressed out from shopping for seven noisy kids and a complicated wife, others just strolled arm in arm along the street, looking utterly relaxed. Harry sighed. He wished he could be relaxed. A kick in his middle reminded him that he should try to calm down a bit and not to make such a big thing out of the whole present buying business. Smiling, Harry rubbed gently over his stomach and turned his eyes back to the window again.
Suddenly a familiar blond head mirrored in the window walked into Harry's field of vision and Harry's smile widened. Just as he was about to turn around to greet Draco he noticed someone else walking next to the blond man. It took him a second or two to recognise Theodore Nott, but when he did he remembered that in school there had been a rumour that Nott and Draco had been a little bit more than friends. In fact they were looking pretty cosy right now and Harry didn't like it one bit.
Draco pointed at the display in a shop nearby and they went over to take a closer look, their sides close to each other, as if they were holding hands. Maybe they were. Theodore said something and Draco laughed, their heads nearly touching. Harry bet that Theodore would now feel Draco's breath on his skin and if he would tilt his head only a bit, just like Harry would -
Harry Apparated away.
***
Harry had cancelled the tea-date for Friday. On Saturday an owl from Draco came, but flew away again carrying the unopened letter in her claws. Sunday around lunch time there was another owl from him, who suffered the same fate as the first did, and then another one around dinner.
Harry glared at the window, from which the last owl had just flown off, and sucked the blood from the scratches on his hand. Stupid Malfoy. Stupid effing Malfoy, who was too egoistical to notice that Harry cared about him, who would probably never be interested in Harry again, who didn't care a bit for Harry and their child. No -Harry's child. He would raise the baby alone, without Malfoy - he would be strong enough, he didn't need the other man, anyway.
Harry sniffed and grabbed one of the many used handkerchiefs that were lying scattered around him to blow his nose. For a Moment he contemplated making some more camomile tea to calm down a bit, but then he remembered that that would only increase his need to take a piss and he really could do without the walking around. Mainly because he would have to get up again and he already felt like he couldn't move any more. There were still two more months to go and now he was alone, thanks to Malfoy. Harry didn't want to imagine what things would be like when he was close to labour.
Harry shook his head. One of the many things he didn't want to think about now. Oh, he was happy about becoming a father, but there were so many aspects that he was fucking scared to death of.
Harry used the handkerchief to wipe his eyes dry. Come on, Harry, he thought. No need to cry. You're strong, you have friends. You will survive without Malfoy.
And Harry was sure that he would - the only problem was that he wanted to spend his life with Malfoy and not without him. But apparently Malfoy couldn't care less. Harry snorted. Well, no wonder. Theodore Nott wasn't six months pregnant and looked like a double-sized hippopotamus.
The next day Harry owled Professor McGonagall that he wasn't feeling well and would lie down for the day. The ceiling was interesting, Harry noted. Had cracks here and there and the white was a little bit uneven, looking a bit more like eggshell at some places. He didn't feel like getting up anytime soon. Wasn't even hungry, but had eaten a bit of toast for the child's sake.
Why? That was the most prominent thought in his head. Why wasn't he good enough for Malfoy? Why did he want someone who didn't want him? Why couldn't he be loved?
Maybe he should leave. Start a new life in a place where no one knew who he was. Maybe then everything would be better.
But leaving? He'd have to leave Ron and Hermione as well and -
CRASH!
The sound of his front-door bursting open made Harry jerk up in panic. Memories of the war - Run! Run! - were streaming through his head and his heart was racing as he moved as quickly as he could next to the door. He waited, wand in hand and a curse ready on his tongue.
Then some swearing, uttered in an unpleasantly familiar voice, could be heard, followed by the cry: "Harry?!" Harry's features hardened and he stepped out of the bedroom into the living room.
"What do you want?" he asked coldly and pointed his wand at Draco, who was looking around wildly as if the flat was smeared with blood or something horrifying like that.
"You ... Are you alright?" Draco asked and licked his lips nervously.
"Not your concern." Harry snarled.
"I sent you a couple of owls and you weren't at school -"
"Like I said, that's none of your concern." Harry still kept up his wand. Malfoy needed to leave. "Now repair my door and leave."
"I - what? Hey, I came because I was worried," Draco said and Harry scoffed. "I just wanted to come and look for you."
"Yeah, right. As if you'd care." Harry squelched down that tiny flame of hope that had briefly flickered up until he had remembered the events in Diagon Alley. "I don't want to talk to you and I certainly don't want to see you, so piss off!"
"What did I do?" Draco asked, sounding genuinely surprised. He had always been a good actor.
"I do not want to discuss this. I want you gone!" Harry turned around to go back into his bedroom - anything to get away from Malfoy. Why did he have to come and make everything even harder? Couldn't he just run off with Nott or something, instead of rubbing his presence in Harry's face?
"Wait!" Draco shouted and grabbed Harry's arm.
His grip was strong and even hurt, but Harry only said: "Let go of me."
"First we're going to talk about this! What is wrong, Harry?"
"Don't call me Harry! You didn't call me Harry when we fucked and you will not call me Harry now!"
"I thought you wanted that?"
"I want nothing from you." Draco looked honestly bewildered now. "Sod off, Malfoy. Go back to your latest fuck-toy and get out of my life and the life of my child!"
"Fuck-toy? What are you talking about? I haven't -"
"Sure you haven't. What about Theodore Nott then? Aren't you fucking him, huh?" Harry wanted to punch Draco so badly at that moment, but the blond was still holding his arm firmly.
"Theo?"
"I know you had something going on with him in school and -"
"Everyone knew."
"- and I know you have something going on with him now! But you know what? You can fuck him all you like - but don't expect me to hang around in that case. I am not somebody you can just use!"
"I didn't use you! I didn't even touch you these past months!"
Harry flinched as if Draco had just kicked him in the stomach.
"I know." he said with a low voice. Of course he knew. Sitting next to Draco during the tea-dates had been bad enough without being reminded that he couldn't have him and that Draco didn't want him. And then he had started to hope, only to have his hope cruelly destroyed. "Why don't you just go to him?"
"To whom?"
"Theodore Nott!"
"Why should I?"
"How would I know?! I'm not you! You're the one who's fucking him!"
"I told you: I am not!" Draco raked a hand through his hair. "Merlin! Is this all because you thought that I got off with Theo?" Harry turned around, facing the window, and chose not to answer. Draco's amused scoff sounded through the room. "You were jealous."
"Don't ridicule me."
"I'm not."
"You've made it perfectly clear to me that you don't want me, so I know I'm being stupid." Harry rubbed his burning eyes. Tired, he was just tired.
"You are -" Draco's voice came closer. "- not stupid." Harry jumped when suddenly Draco laid a hand on Harry's stomach. "And I'm sorry for being ... well, for being how I have been."
"You are?" Harry mumbled sceptically. He was not interested, he told himself, he would not give in and get his heart broken all over again. All of a sudden the baby kicked and Draco let out a surprised, amazed gasp that caressed Harry's cheek. Harry turned his head and their eyes locked.
"I'd like to try." Draco said quietly.
"Try what?" Harry searched Draco's eyes for some sign, some pointer to what to expect.
"Try us."
"I will not be a side dish to your other courses." Harry told him determinedly but with a voice that suggested so much hope.
"There will be no other courses, I promise." Draco's hand stroked gently over Harry's stomach and a soft, dreamy smile graced his lips. Harry exhaled deeply and nodded. He didn't know what would come out of this - he wasn't even sure if Draco would manage to be true to his word - but he knew he had to try.
Recipient: winnett
Title: Under His Skin (Part 2 of 2)
Under His Skin (Part 1 of 2)
Part II
A letter from Hermione ended Harry's wallowing in self-pity. She told him about how things were going Down Under and that everything was fine. They had found her parents and were busy undoing the memory charm that Hermione had cast on them. The process was slow, but seemed to work, which was a good thing in itself, and Hermione supposed that they would stay for two or three more weeks before returning to England. Ron sent his greetings in the form of an inquest about the latest Quidditch results, which made Harry grin for the first time in ages. He couldn't wait for them to come home.
Just when Harry took out some paper to write back to his friends someone knocked at the door. It was a determined knock, a knock that didn't accept that the door was still closed, and one was used to being obeyed. Harry did just that and opened the door wearily after casting a quick security spell to check that the person outside didn't want to harm him.
Which was why he was quite surprised to see Narcissa Malfoy standing right in front of him. This, however, was nothing compared to the shock Harry got when the same Narcissa Malfoy, wife of Lucius Malfoy and mistress over the Malfoy estate, stepped up to him and hugged him with the words: "Harry, my boy, it's good to see you."
Stunned he let her in - or rather didn't say anything as she let herself in. Instead he closed the door and followed her to the kitchen, where she had begun to boil water. From the looks of it she had brought her own tea set, which could only mean that Draco had told her about the camomile tea. Weird what people would talk about when there were so many more important things.
"Mrs Malfoy, I -"
"Please, call me Narcissa," the woman interrupted him and sent him a charming smile. Suddenly, there was nothing left of the sneering lady that looked like something was rotting in front of her nose. Narcissa looked rather like one of those ideal, golden mother-witches from the magazines - only that she was clearly wealthier than all of them combined. "You don't mind, do you?" She pointed at the tea set and Harry shook his head, watching as she poured them two cups - one with camomile tea. "Why don't we sit down?" Harry nodded again and gratefully took the cup she floated over to him, if only for that fact that now he had something to cling to.
"You know, you don't have to look so terrified, Harry. I'm not going to do anything vile to you." Narcissa informed him and crossed her legs primly.
"I know," Harry mumbled. He had, after all, performed the security check on her. "But ... what are you doing here?"
"Right to those questions?" Narcissa sighed. "Yes, well, I suppose this is not the time for pleasant chit-chat anyway." The way she said that implied that there would be another time for that, which implied that she would be visiting again. And that was a little bit unnerving for Harry. "You see, Harry, a couple of days ago my son came storming through our front doors while I was on my way to the winter gardens. You may think that this is a usual occurrence, but I can tell you that I know my son very well and I knew that something was wrong. So I sat him down and made him tell me everything about him and you." Harry's eyes widened comically, but Narcissa just tsked. "Not every single detail, darling. He is my son, after all, and I do not want to die of a stroke. Anyway, he told me that you are pregnant with his child and that he had told you that he didn't want to have anything to do with you or the child. Is that correct?" Harry looked down at his cup and nodded. Yes, basically that was it, with insults and a lot of screaming on top.
"Now you might wonder about my visit. I can tell you, Harry, that I do not agree with the way my son handled this. Actually we had a very long and unpleasant discussion about this topic, resulting in him only speaking to me in grunts and glares now as if he was one of those terrible Goyles, but that is a completely different story." Harry stared at Narcissa as she breathed in deeply. How women could talk that much and that fast without breathing would forever be a miracle to him. "I just want you to know that I will not do what my son has done. The child that you are bearing is my very first grandchild and I am not about to give up on the chance to take part in that." She smiled at him. Warmly. Harry felt like his head was spinning and he desperately held onto his teacup. He had just won a mother-in-law.
That was how Harry came to have the great honour of calling Narcissa Malfoy by her given name and to have her over for tea every couple of days. Despite his doubts at first that he and Narcissa would get on she was quite nice to talk to, even if most of their conversations circled around superficial themes and the baby, though Harry was still a bit too shy to talk about that too much. He just couldn't bring himself to think too far into the future, and the thought of actually feeling the baby move inside him and giving birth scared the hell out of him.
But apart from that it was great to have someone to talk to who knew about the pregnancy, with whom he didn't feel like the biggest liar on earth just because he didn't tell them about the baby and Draco.
Draco himself, though, didn't contact him at all. There weren't even any messages that he sent via his mother. In fact Harry and Narcissa usually avoided talking about Draco. Harry didn't dare to inquire about him and whenever Draco's name came up Harry would look away and try not to show that his eyes had gone a bit misty. To himself he always said it was all because of the hormones.
***
Then, on a quite rainy Saturday afternoon someone knocked at the door, jerking Harry out of his nap. He looked around wildly before he realised the source of the noise and then practically jumped up in hope and excitement to open the door.
Finally! Finally Draco had come to apologize and to say --
Hermione and Ron were standing in front of the door, beaming at him.
"Hey Harry!" Hermione called and rushed over to him to give him a squeezing hug. "It's so good to see you!" She pushed him away a bit, still holding his arms and checking his features, before giving him an approving nod and walking into his flat.
"Hi there, mate," Ron greeted him and slapped him on the shoulder. Harry gave him a weak grin and tried not to let show that he was disappointed in who his guests were. He was doing a piss-poor job of it, naturally, and Ron sent a questioning frown at him, then followed Hermione.
"Did everything go well with your parents?" Harry asked Hermione and sat down at the kitchen table while Hermione puttered around in his kitchen.
"Yes, thank you. -- Say, don't you have coffee anymore?" Hermione glanced at the long unused coffee machine and then found the camomile tea-bags. "Never mind, this will do." A swish and two flicks and water was starting to heat up.
"Everything alright with you, Harry?" Ron asked.
"Yes, yes, fine. How has Australia been?" Harry quickly asked and exhaled deeply as Hermione launched into an enthusiastic description of their mission/holiday. She told him about all the places they had visited and the people they had met - her parents had apparently made a couple of new friends Down Under. Listening to her tales and Ron's additions, he very nearly got jealous and wished he would have gone too. He had never been outside of Britain, had in fact never travelled much before the war had openly broken out - and even then Harry wouldn't really call their constant fleeing and moving 'travelling'. This might have been his chance. Especially considering what was lying before him now.
And he just had to wonder if he maybe wouldn't be pregnant now if he had gone away. He didn't know the date of the conception and maybe - just maybe - he might have avoided this.
But that was over, his chances gone and he was Harry - pregnant, single, and lonely.
"Now," Hermione interrupted Harry's musings, "tell us what's up. Something isn't quite right - even Ron can see it." She ignored the slightly offended look that she received from her boyfriend and concentrated on Harry, who was busy staring at his tea and trying to find the right words.
Of course they wouldn't come, because what were the right words to tell your friends that you, a guy, were pregnant by a guy who they hated? There were no right words, none at all.
"Out with it," Ron grunted. He was apparently still miffed about the lack of beer in Harry's freezer.
"I'm pregnant."
Ron started to laugh out loud and slapped his hands on his knees. "Good one, mate! Not that we'd buy that for a second, 'course, 'Mione will want an answer anyway -"
"Ron," Hermione interrupted her boyfriend, trying to quiet him with a sideways movement of her hand. She looked worriedly at Ron, trying to communicate wordlessly like every couple seemed to be able to, then back at Harry. "I think he's serious."
Harry only nodded numbly and swallowed. Telling them, admitting his failure, hurt indescribably. Somehow it had been his own fault. He should have known, should have protected himself and now this tarnish was on him. Harry felt a hand touching his and looked up at Hermione, who was standing in front of him.
"Oh Harry," she said and hugged him tenderly. Harry closed his eyes and let himself be engulfed by her comforting, familiar smell. "It was Malfoy, wasn't it?" He nodded again and barely flinched when Ron started a long string of curses and promises to emasculate Draco. Hermione and Ron somehow managed to help him onto the sofa, where he lay motionlessly with his head on Hermione's lap while he explained in as few words as possible how exactly it was possible for him to be pregnant.
***
Two nights later Harry found once again that he couldn't sleep. He had done everything in his power to fall asleep, but even though he was tired he just couldn't bring himself to fall into Hypnos' waiting arms. Warm milk with honey didn't do anything for him, nor did airing the room with cold, clear night air, counting Grindylows or tossing and turning.
Sitting in an armchair near the big window in the living room, huddled in a blanket and resting his head against the back of the chair, Harry stared into the sky. He could see Orion without a problem now. It was as if there was someone looking out for him somewhere up there. Maybe there really was.
God, how Harry wished that he could talk to his parents now. He needed parental advise so badly and there was no one, absolutely no one he would dare to talk about what was going on in his head.
Ron had told him to forget about Malfoy. He had said that Harry's life was better 'without that arsehole' and it was probably the best way to go about things, but Harry couldn't. He had no illusions about that sort of thing anymore. Even if he wasn't pregnant, even if Draco wasn't a Veela he would still long for him. He would want to be with him.
But Draco didn't want that. And who could hate him for it? Draco wanted to be free after everything that had happened to him, and who was Harry to say that he wasn't allowed to be? He would have preferred that for himself, too. And binding Draco to him only because he was expecting Draco 's child wasn't the right thing to do. They wouldn't be happy that way.
It didn't make Harry want Draco less, though. He wanted him in his bed, wanted his touch, his voice, his smell, wanted his presence in this apartment.
Harry sighed heavily. He was used to his wishes being denied, wasn't he? It was for the best, he told himself - but believing himself was not a thing he could do.
***
Harry peered at himself in the mirror. Was or wasn't there a bump now? He turned, made a bit of a hollow-back and squinted at his image. If he looked closely ... He stepped a bit closer to the mirror. Yes, of course! There was a bump! It was tiny, barely existent, but to Harry his practically flat stomach looked completely changed
He gazed down in marvel at his stomach and ran his hand over the flesh as if caressing the actual baby. He was only in beginning of the pregnancy and already couldn't wait to feel the child moving in him. Slowly he was finding himself fiiting into the role of a pregnant man and things were starting to get a bit better. Hermione and Ron came over for visits quite often, there were the weekly Weasley dinners, and Narcissa came also by every couple of days. Not that their relationship had become much deeper than before.
Harry had taken up on reading everything on pregnancy - especially male pregnancy - that he could get his hands on. He wanted to be prepared - though he still avoided looking at the birth-pictures. There were things that could spoil even a guy's appetite.
The Seventh-Year School that McGonagall had organised had started only a couple of days ago and Hermione was already in full study-mode. Harry had long hesitated over the decision of whether or not to go to school. He had confided in McGonagall about the pregnancy, but had kept the other father a secret, and had discussed his options with her. He couldn't do any duel practise for Defence, but he and McGonagall had decided that he didn't need to study much in that field as he already knew his way around, and couldn't brew any Potions either. She had suggested that he tried the year and take a reduced course load with only those subjects he might need for a job later on and he had agreed.
Even if things got a bit too much he could always take a break and finish his education a bit later or study at home. Actually McGonagall had been surprisingly laid back about the whole issue, which had made the conversation with her quite comfortable. Well, that and the cookies that she had insisted Harry ate.
***
When Harry was well into his third month the nausea had thankfully passed. School went reasonably well, especially now that he didn't have a Dark Lord anymore to distract him from his studies. Since there was no Quidditch training either, which he missed quite a lot, there was much more time to study than before.
Also Harry was slowly, but surely, starting to show - and he didn't even need to squint to see the bump now. It was weird, he thought. He looked a bit like he had spent too much time sitting on the couch rather than being up and about exercising, only that his belly was taut and nicely round looking.
He had already informed the Weasleys of his condition - Ron would have blurted it out sooner or later anyway - and even though the shock had been great (and Molly's Talk about protection had been hell) they were accepting it. There hadn't been the great fall-out like he had feared and they hadn't turned their backs on him as soon as the words had gotten out of his mouth. Though Ginny wasn't really talking to him. But George had made a whale-joke (thank God he was able to joke a bit again) and Percy had laughed and Harry knew that it was going to be alright. One thing was worrying Harry, though. Fleur had had that manic glint in her eyes and had tried to lure him onto the couch with her to discuss their pregnancies and chat about the decoration of the nurseries. Harry shuddered.
"Weird," Harry said to his image in the mirror and grinned slightly. "There's a baby inside of me." He looked down at his belly, bent a bit to get his head as close to his stomach as he could manage and whispered: "Hey, you there inside of me. It's me - your Daddy." He glanced at his watch. "And I'm going to feed us cake and tea now."
Narcissa had taken to inviting him out for tea as she was bored of sitting in his flat and Harry didn't want to go to the manor. Going out was better anyway, because Harry didn't have to bake or do anything at all. Besides, the cafes Narcissa always chose were wonderful and had the best cakes - only the best for Lady Malfoy, thank you very much.
Smoothing down his shirt Harry walked into the café and looked around for Narcissa, who so far had always arrived before him. Unlike her husband and her son Narcissa showed her superiority not via coming late and having everybody wait for her, but in being there before everyone else arrived, showing discipline and punctuality. It had actually made Harry pay closer attention to the time when he was about to meet up with someone, just because he felt incredibly uncomfortable knowing that he had let somebody wait - especially in the case of Narcissa.
"Hello, Narcissa." Harry sat down at their table, where his cup of camomile tea was already waiting for him, and smiled at the perfectly dressed woman. He had long given up on feeling underdressed next to her - it was simply no use.
"Hello, dear. How have you been doing?"
"Quite alright. I've developed -" The words died in Harry's throat as he saw Draco standing a couple of feet away from their table, Harry's eyes drawn to him because of the swift movement of his steps. They stared at each other like two pumas deciding whether to attack or not. Draco was the first to look away, leaving a sense of pride in Harry for not having given up in this battle when he had lost the previous one.
Draco sighed and sat down next to his mother. He waved a waiter over and ordered the tea first before actually looking at Harry and his mother again.
"I thought you and I were having a nice and quiet tea-time, mother," he finally said dryly. Harry tried not to feel hurt by the tone of disinterest in Draco voice and nearly succeeded.
Narcissa tugged at her robe and brushed a non-existent bit of lint away.
"We are, darling," she said primly. Of course Draco didn't agree, clearly marked by his scoff, "Only that I always have tea with Harry and I thought it'd be nice if the three of us had tea together."
Both Harry and Draco kept silent. Harry didn't know what to think of this. Clearly Draco didn't want to be here, but he felt sort of happy that Draco was here right now. He hadn't thought he would get a chance to really meet him again. On the other hand seeing Draco and knowing that there was not a fucking chance for Harry, that Draco would never grant him one, hurt like hell.
"Now listen," Narcissa's voice was quiet, but determined, leaving no room for objections, "I know that you, Draco, don't want to be here. I know that you never wanted this pregnancy to happen, but there's nothing you can do to change that. I also know that you don't want to have anything to do with the whole situation, but you are in this, whether you want it or not. This is your child and my grandchild and I plan on playing a role in his or her life. And if you don't want to break off all contact with me, you will be in contact with the baby, too. And that is why I want you two to get on."
Harry looked up at Draco and studied his face. He had no idea what Draco was thinking. Eventually Draco nodded.
***
"You don't really believe my mother's story of having a house-elf emergency at home, do you?" Draco asked as he walked Harry towards his flat. They had had supper together - all three of them - nearby and Harry had opted to walk the short distance instead of Apparating, which had become somewhat uncomfortable for him now that he was in his fourth month. It was already cold outside, especially at night, and Harry could hide his slightly red face behind a thick red scarf that was wound around his neck.
Harry looked at Draco questioningly, not bothering to free his mouth from the scarf, as he would have had to take his hands out of his comfortably warm coat pockets.
"Oh my, you really do! Potter," Harry gave Draco a look. He had told Draco weeks ago that he would much prefer it to be called Harry, seeing as he carried around Draco's baby in his growing belly. "- Harry, if there really was a house-elf emergency, even I don't know what exactly could be meant by that, you can be sure that my mother would not hurry back home."
Harry made some weird, muffled noises that sounded distinctly like a surprised question and Draco nodded.
"She wanted us to be alone. In the hope that we suddenly start humping each other or something." Draco scoffed and Harry mentally sighed. He had practically given up on humping - be it Draco or anybody else. Not that he wanted someone other than Draco, but in Harry's mind the mere possibility of someone wanting to fuck him was the unbelievable with him being pregnant and getting wider and wider each day. And Draco ... best to let Dragons rest. It was not something Harry's mind needed to dwell on.
Suddenly Harry felt his foot catch on something slippery and his foot was up in the air and it was too late, he was going to fall and - strong arms caught him and pulled him upright.
"Careful," Draco said with a rough voice and rested his hand for the tiniest fragment of a Moment on the small of Harry's back.
The place where Draco had touched him burned like flames had licked his skin. It was a comfortable warmth, but it followed him everywhere and didn't go away, not even when he went to his classes. The smile on Harry's face that had implanted itself as the imprint of a hope that Harry didn't dare to voice, stayed as well.
During the following weeks Draco always accompanied Narcissa to the tea times with Harry, saying that he deserved tea and cake as a break from all the hard studying that he did. And that was when his weird behaviour started.
First he would fetch Harry's tea from the bar when they were in cafés without waiters, saying that he would pass the bar anyway on his way from the loo. Then he started bringing Harry home every time, saying that the streets had become quite dangerous. At school he never hesitated to point out to Harry that levitating his books would be better for his back and he had even taken the liberty of floating Harry's books to the classroom for him when Harry forgot. Sometimes he even went as far as bringing Harry an apple or another piece of fruit with the words that his mother was sending them.
In mid-November Harry was sitting in the Charms room, chatting with his friends (who still didn't like Draco or his behaviour at all) when Seamus sat down next to Harry and slung his arm around him. Seamus didn't even manage to start his question before a weird noise that sounded strangely like a growl sounded through the room and Draco appeared next to Harry, glowering at Seamus. Seamus's arm dropped immediately.
"I'll see you later, Harry," he squeaked and rushed over into the safe arms of Dean. Harry turned to look at Draco and raised his eyebrows.
"Did you just growl?"
"No," Draco sniffed airily. "I do not growl."
"You did so growl."
"Did not. I don't even know why I should growl. I just came over to remind you of the tea-date with my mother." Draco walked back to his seat. Harry frowned. He had never forgotten a tea-date with Narcissa and had never needed a reminder of those. And Draco had growled; he was sure of it. Like a dog keeping others off of his patch. The thought made Harry feel warm and fuzzy inside.
***
Christmas was slowly sneaking up on the population, manifesting in shop windows, trees, in the clouds and living rooms. The scent of gingerbread was nearly constantly in the air, followed by a mist of hot chocolate and cinnamon.
Harry had to cast enlargement charms on his jumpers, because he was steadfastly refusing to go out and buy new ones. Even though he was 'openly pregnant' by now - because how could he not be with a round belly like that? - he still found the thought of going out and buying new clothes, and having to change in a shop, very uncomfortable.
It didn't keep him from strolling in the snow through Diagon Alley, however. Resting one hand comfortably on his stomach and holding a paper bag with a nice, soft, gift-wrapped scarf for Hermione in the other he walked down the street, looking through a window here, buying some hot chestnuts there. All in all it was the perfect day to do one's Christmas shopping.
He still needed to find the perfect gift for Draco. For Narcissa he had bought a perfume he was sure she would hate, but that was more or less a given with his non-existing talent for picking gifts. Draco was supposed to be easier, though, since they were both male, of the same age and enjoyed the same things. Well, mostly.
He walked past the Quidditch supplies shop - Draco had enough of that stuff - and looked around. No books, because with Draco Harry would have the same problems that he would have with Hermione - he didn't know what books both of them owned, only that there were a lot. He didn't even think about buying clothes for Draco, because Draco would never wear them anyway, since he had so much better taste in them. He needed something better. Something extraordinary. Something that would make Harry look worthy in Draco's eyes. Lost in his thoughts Harry wandered over to the display window of Eeylops Owl Emporium and stared at his reflection in the glass. He just couldn’t think of any good presents! There had to be something that even he was able to find.
The reflected movements of the passers by caught his eye and Harry let his eyes wander over them. Some of them looked like they were stressed out from shopping for seven noisy kids and a complicated wife, others just strolled arm in arm along the street, looking utterly relaxed. Harry sighed. He wished he could be relaxed. A kick in his middle reminded him that he should try to calm down a bit and not to make such a big thing out of the whole present buying business. Smiling, Harry rubbed gently over his stomach and turned his eyes back to the window again.
Suddenly a familiar blond head mirrored in the window walked into Harry's field of vision and Harry's smile widened. Just as he was about to turn around to greet Draco he noticed someone else walking next to the blond man. It took him a second or two to recognise Theodore Nott, but when he did he remembered that in school there had been a rumour that Nott and Draco had been a little bit more than friends. In fact they were looking pretty cosy right now and Harry didn't like it one bit.
Draco pointed at the display in a shop nearby and they went over to take a closer look, their sides close to each other, as if they were holding hands. Maybe they were. Theodore said something and Draco laughed, their heads nearly touching. Harry bet that Theodore would now feel Draco's breath on his skin and if he would tilt his head only a bit, just like Harry would -
Harry Apparated away.
***
Harry had cancelled the tea-date for Friday. On Saturday an owl from Draco came, but flew away again carrying the unopened letter in her claws. Sunday around lunch time there was another owl from him, who suffered the same fate as the first did, and then another one around dinner.
Harry glared at the window, from which the last owl had just flown off, and sucked the blood from the scratches on his hand. Stupid Malfoy. Stupid effing Malfoy, who was too egoistical to notice that Harry cared about him, who would probably never be interested in Harry again, who didn't care a bit for Harry and their child. No -Harry's child. He would raise the baby alone, without Malfoy - he would be strong enough, he didn't need the other man, anyway.
Harry sniffed and grabbed one of the many used handkerchiefs that were lying scattered around him to blow his nose. For a Moment he contemplated making some more camomile tea to calm down a bit, but then he remembered that that would only increase his need to take a piss and he really could do without the walking around. Mainly because he would have to get up again and he already felt like he couldn't move any more. There were still two more months to go and now he was alone, thanks to Malfoy. Harry didn't want to imagine what things would be like when he was close to labour.
Harry shook his head. One of the many things he didn't want to think about now. Oh, he was happy about becoming a father, but there were so many aspects that he was fucking scared to death of.
Harry used the handkerchief to wipe his eyes dry. Come on, Harry, he thought. No need to cry. You're strong, you have friends. You will survive without Malfoy.
And Harry was sure that he would - the only problem was that he wanted to spend his life with Malfoy and not without him. But apparently Malfoy couldn't care less. Harry snorted. Well, no wonder. Theodore Nott wasn't six months pregnant and looked like a double-sized hippopotamus.
The next day Harry owled Professor McGonagall that he wasn't feeling well and would lie down for the day. The ceiling was interesting, Harry noted. Had cracks here and there and the white was a little bit uneven, looking a bit more like eggshell at some places. He didn't feel like getting up anytime soon. Wasn't even hungry, but had eaten a bit of toast for the child's sake.
Why? That was the most prominent thought in his head. Why wasn't he good enough for Malfoy? Why did he want someone who didn't want him? Why couldn't he be loved?
Maybe he should leave. Start a new life in a place where no one knew who he was. Maybe then everything would be better.
But leaving? He'd have to leave Ron and Hermione as well and -
CRASH!
The sound of his front-door bursting open made Harry jerk up in panic. Memories of the war - Run! Run! - were streaming through his head and his heart was racing as he moved as quickly as he could next to the door. He waited, wand in hand and a curse ready on his tongue.
Then some swearing, uttered in an unpleasantly familiar voice, could be heard, followed by the cry: "Harry?!" Harry's features hardened and he stepped out of the bedroom into the living room.
"What do you want?" he asked coldly and pointed his wand at Draco, who was looking around wildly as if the flat was smeared with blood or something horrifying like that.
"You ... Are you alright?" Draco asked and licked his lips nervously.
"Not your concern." Harry snarled.
"I sent you a couple of owls and you weren't at school -"
"Like I said, that's none of your concern." Harry still kept up his wand. Malfoy needed to leave. "Now repair my door and leave."
"I - what? Hey, I came because I was worried," Draco said and Harry scoffed. "I just wanted to come and look for you."
"Yeah, right. As if you'd care." Harry squelched down that tiny flame of hope that had briefly flickered up until he had remembered the events in Diagon Alley. "I don't want to talk to you and I certainly don't want to see you, so piss off!"
"What did I do?" Draco asked, sounding genuinely surprised. He had always been a good actor.
"I do not want to discuss this. I want you gone!" Harry turned around to go back into his bedroom - anything to get away from Malfoy. Why did he have to come and make everything even harder? Couldn't he just run off with Nott or something, instead of rubbing his presence in Harry's face?
"Wait!" Draco shouted and grabbed Harry's arm.
His grip was strong and even hurt, but Harry only said: "Let go of me."
"First we're going to talk about this! What is wrong, Harry?"
"Don't call me Harry! You didn't call me Harry when we fucked and you will not call me Harry now!"
"I thought you wanted that?"
"I want nothing from you." Draco looked honestly bewildered now. "Sod off, Malfoy. Go back to your latest fuck-toy and get out of my life and the life of my child!"
"Fuck-toy? What are you talking about? I haven't -"
"Sure you haven't. What about Theodore Nott then? Aren't you fucking him, huh?" Harry wanted to punch Draco so badly at that moment, but the blond was still holding his arm firmly.
"Theo?"
"I know you had something going on with him in school and -"
"Everyone knew."
"- and I know you have something going on with him now! But you know what? You can fuck him all you like - but don't expect me to hang around in that case. I am not somebody you can just use!"
"I didn't use you! I didn't even touch you these past months!"
Harry flinched as if Draco had just kicked him in the stomach.
"I know." he said with a low voice. Of course he knew. Sitting next to Draco during the tea-dates had been bad enough without being reminded that he couldn't have him and that Draco didn't want him. And then he had started to hope, only to have his hope cruelly destroyed. "Why don't you just go to him?"
"To whom?"
"Theodore Nott!"
"Why should I?"
"How would I know?! I'm not you! You're the one who's fucking him!"
"I told you: I am not!" Draco raked a hand through his hair. "Merlin! Is this all because you thought that I got off with Theo?" Harry turned around, facing the window, and chose not to answer. Draco's amused scoff sounded through the room. "You were jealous."
"Don't ridicule me."
"I'm not."
"You've made it perfectly clear to me that you don't want me, so I know I'm being stupid." Harry rubbed his burning eyes. Tired, he was just tired.
"You are -" Draco's voice came closer. "- not stupid." Harry jumped when suddenly Draco laid a hand on Harry's stomach. "And I'm sorry for being ... well, for being how I have been."
"You are?" Harry mumbled sceptically. He was not interested, he told himself, he would not give in and get his heart broken all over again. All of a sudden the baby kicked and Draco let out a surprised, amazed gasp that caressed Harry's cheek. Harry turned his head and their eyes locked.
"I'd like to try." Draco said quietly.
"Try what?" Harry searched Draco's eyes for some sign, some pointer to what to expect.
"Try us."
"I will not be a side dish to your other courses." Harry told him determinedly but with a voice that suggested so much hope.
"There will be no other courses, I promise." Draco's hand stroked gently over Harry's stomach and a soft, dreamy smile graced his lips. Harry exhaled deeply and nodded. He didn't know what would come out of this - he wasn't even sure if Draco would manage to be true to his word - but he knew he had to try.