HD INSPIRATION FOR DDAYSPRING
Author: dacro
Recipient: ddayspring
Title: The Infection (Part 3 of 3)
The Infection Part 3
~*~
Harry sat in the rocking chair next to the bed, and looked over to where Draco was finally clean, healed and sleeping. His face was paler than Harry had ever seen it before, but considering what he'd been through, the fact that he was even alive was a miracle.
Nothing had gone the way they'd expected-practised-and yet Curtis had been remarkable, remaining calm and business-like through it all: the blood, thrashing, profanity and chilling silence that settled over them once the baby was free of Draco's belly. It was a moment Harry never wanted to feel again-the fear that closed around his heart in the few horrifying seconds when no sound came from the small, limp purple body laying in the Healer's large, wet hands.
The world reanimated at the first cries from the tiny mouth, and Harry had been temporarily blinded by tears that filled his eyes and spilled over his cheeks as he sobbed with joy.
What came next, he would never forget: a flurry of voices and spells, a sleepy whisper of his name from the bed, and Narcissa Malfoy walking toward him with a baby-his baby-bundled in a startlingly white blanket, and handing it carefully to him.
"Meet your son," she said, as he looked down into the folds and saw silver-blue eyes blinking up at him. His heart jumped into his throat, and he had a hard time remembering how to breathe. He'd never seen anything so amazing. His world narrowed to that one small bundle, and the little nose that was a miniature of his own. He didn't have any hands free to wipe the tears that were falling onto his son, but he didn't care. In Harry's opinion, if there was ever a good time to cry, it was when a life was either leaving the world, or being added to it.
"What have you decided to call him?"
Her voice pulled him briefly away from the curse turned miracle, who was slowly falling asleep in his arms. He looked again to Draco, and then back up to where Curtis and Narcissa were silently watching him. Luckily, he and Draco had agreed on a boy's name only a few hours before.
"Orion."
She nodded her approval and bent to kiss her new grandson. She then moved gracefully to the bed, kissed Draco, and told Harry to notify her when he awoke again. On her way to the fireplace, she paused in front of him again, brushed the back of her hand over the baby's flushed cheek, gave him a soft smile, and then took the Floo back to the Manor.
Curtis raised his eyebrows.
"Orion?"
"Constellations," Harry offered him in explanation. "Black family tradition."
"I know all about family naming traditions." He knelt in front of Harry and gently rubbed his finger over the small fist squished up under Orion's chin. He changed the tone of his voice to sound as if he was going to read Orion a bedtime story. "As I've been told, my mother spent three months trying to talk my father out of naming me Nobby the Fourth."
Harry stifled his laugh, trying not to move the baby too much or wake up Draco.
"Is it rude to say I'm glad she won?"
"Not at all," he said, adding his own quiet chuckle. "She wanted Curtis after her twin brother who died just before I was born."
"That's reasonable."
"However," he continued in story-voice, "my father had his mind set on tradition, and is a professional politician used to getting what he wants."
"So what finally did it?" Harry asked, realising for the first time how little he really new about their Healer.
"She got Uncle Curtis' ghost to follow him everywhere until he eventually gave in."
"Clever," Harry said with a soft laugh. "Draco was the one who suggested Orion. It was the name of my Godfather's father."
Curtis' eyebrows leapt again. "I've heard a story or two about Orion Black."
Harry grimaced. "Me too, but I figure our Orion will have a chance to make the name his own. The best part is that Draco said we could call him 'Ryan' when Narcissa isn't around," he said with a wide grin as Curtis chuckled.
"Well, whatever he's called, he'll be loved." Curtis moved his hand from the baby to the arm of the rocking chair and stood. "Considering all the factors, things could have been much worse. You both did admirably."
Harry swallowed, looked again at his son, and tried not to think about all the things that could have gone wrong. He pushed against the floor and the chair rocked smoothly back and forth.
"It was worth it," he whispered. "Thank you, Curtis."
"My pleasure."
Harry caught sight of the Healer yawning.
"We'll be fine for a few hours. Go get some sleep."
"All right, but you let me know if anything changes." Harry nodded. "Oh, and I know we talked about the feedings, but Draco may be a little nervous or embarrassed at first, so just be there for support if he needs it. Even though he doesn't have to deal with breasts, the process can still be intimidating."
Harry nodded again. They'd read all the material, but Draco had confessed to being sceptical that it would all work the way it was supposed to.
Curtis seemed to have cottoned on to Harry's train of thought.
"Allan, my husband, had a bit of trouble at first, but within a day, he was a pro-they both were."
"Charlie said you delivered your daughter," Harry said, remembering Draco's cries and Curtis' calm presence during the chaos. He pulled Orion a little closer.
"Yes, Ava." His face lit up. "She'll be a year next week. Seems like yesterday."
"Wow. That must have been…"
"It was," he said, waving his wand at the last of the soiled towels and sheets. "Every birth is amazing, but when it's your own child…well, there's no describing it, is there?"
Their eyes met, and for the first time, Harry recognised the wonder he felt and saw it reflected there. He smiled and silently agreed that he'd never find the words to properly express what he was feeling.
The Healer collected his jacket and strode toward the fireplace, but turned around once his hand was full of Floo Powder.
"He's going to change your life, Harry."
Harry turned his gaze toward the bed, reassured by the steady rise and fall of Draco's chest.
"He already has."
~*~
The Reception Hall of the Manor had always seemed large enough for any event they would ever need to host, but as a mystifying number of Weasleys and well-wishers kept stepping out of the Floo and turning up at the door, Draco felt as if the walls were closing in. His arms tightened instinctively around his son.
He silently swore at himself for allowing his mother to talk them into throwing the naming ceremony only five days after giving birth. He was sore, tired and cranky, and didn't appreciate the constant noise and attention as much as everyone assumed he should.
Harry must have felt him tense up, because he was suddenly making excuses for them to Granger, and promising to return shortly. He felt Potter's hand gently lead him by the elbow out of the Hall, around the corner, and out to the covered and blissfully empty conservatory where the air was a cool and refreshing in contrast to the suffocating heat they'd just left behind.
Harry's arms wrapped around him from behind and Draco relaxed against him, taking a deep breath and feeling much better.
Orion burped and kicked his little legs.
"All right?" Harry asked, placing a kiss over Draco's temple.
"Just so many people. I have no reason to feel so-so…" He frowned in frustration when the word wouldn't come.
Curtis said his emotions and memory would continue to be unreliable for another few weeks yet, but that didn't make it any easier to accept.
"Protective?" Harry offered, gently.
Draco nodded and smiled. He was trying not to find amusement in the way Harry approached him on uneven footing due to the rapid mood changes, and yet he was secretly glad that it took quite a lot to rattle Potter once his mind was set on something. Luckily for Draco, Harry's mind was firmly set on the idea of their small and very new family.
"I've been feeling that way too-edgy, I guess, but I didn't really know what it was until now."
Draco looked over his shoulder at Harry. "Why do they think they have a right to run up and start poking at him and pulling him out of my arms?"
Harry shrugged. "It's the force of a baby, I guess. Everyone just wants to see him, and share in the whole moment. That's what Molly keeps telling me, anyway."
"I know that," Draco said with a sigh, "-but try telling that to my body. I feel empty when he's not…Merlin, I sound like a woman."
There was a cough from somewhere behind them. They both turned to see Charlie stepping into the room.
"Sorry to interrupt the family moment, but I…"
"No, it's fine," Harry said, stepping away from Draco and offering his hand to Charlie. "I was wondering if you were going to turn up."
"Yeah, sorry about that, but we got a break in the-" he paused, his eyes flicked to Draco and then back to Harry. "-case," he finished flatly.
"Blaise?" Draco asked.
"Yeah, caught both him and his mum trying to make a go of it in Muggle Paris."
The baby began to fuss. Draco started a rocking, bouncing movement, and Orion gurgled happily.
Charlie added something else, but Draco missed it, too focused on how much his son looked like Harry, except for the eye colour and the translucent peach fuzz covering his little head.
Draco looked up. "Sorry, what was that you said?"
"We sent word to all the families that his mum had deceived, and told them that the case was being reopened. Responses came faster than we could copy them down. She's made a lot of enemies, even more than I imagined."
"Where's Blaise?" Harry asked, placing a finger in Orion's open palm. The miniature fingers closed around it instinctively.
"Holding cell at Headquarters. That's why I'm here, actually. His preliminary hearing is scheduled for next week. I know it's not a lot of time, but…"
Draco looked at Harry, saw the answer he was looking for, and then said, "We'll be there."
"If there's anything you need…"
"Thanks, Charlie," Harry said, offering his free hand again. "-for everything."
"Don't mention it."
Draco chuckled as Orion stuck his little tongue out at Charlie.
"Hey, little man," Charlie said in a high voice, waving a freckly hand. "It's Uncle Charlie."
Draco rolled his eyes, but still found himself smiling, regardless.
~*~
The Floo whooshed to life just as Harry was pulling on his new black t-shirt. Draco had given it to him a minute ago while saying something about nursing Orion once more before they left, and giving Harry orders to Firecall Granger and to be looking edible by the time he returned from the nursery.
Harry was sure his cheeks were still red as Hermione's face came into focus in the flames.
"Oh, good. I was just beginning to worry," she said on a sigh of relief.
Harry stopped smoothing the wrinkles out of his shirt and stared at her for a moment.
"Ah, what?"
"Well, what happened?" she asked impatiently.
He had no idea how she knew what he thought she did. When he kept looking at her without answering, she tried again.
"Didn't you see the evening edition of The Daily Prophet, Harry?"
Harry let out a long breath and rubbed his forehead. At least he knew what was going on now.
"No. Let me guess, though. The results from Blaise's sentencing are on page one?"
She shook her head quickly. "Not the results, no, just that it happened today in a closed session," she said the last bit with an accusatory tone that he'd heard Mrs Weasley use on Arthur.
"Well, there goes the surprise," he said, shaking his head at the resourcefulness of Wizarding reporters. "No one except involved parties were supposed to know about the date and time. I'm sorry."
He thought her cheeks might be filling with colour, but it was hard to tell in the flames.
"Oh, well. I suppose that's understandable. Were you happy with the results?"
"I guess. We're just glad it's over. He's serving one year in detention and then five years probation without magic, working as maintenance staff at a Muggle orphanage-under supervision."
"Well, that's rather creative. Sounds like the Wizengamot is finally putting some thought into their punishments," she said while nodding slowly. "Anything yet on his mother?"
"She'll be in-between trials and protective custody for a while, I think-years, maybe."
Hermione took a deep breath, her eyes furious. "I can't believe…" she pressed her lips tightly together, and Harry could tell she was keeping herself from pouring out her opinion on the matter.
"I know. Draco still spends most of his free time figuring out the nastiest way to Curse the Zabini Family Line. You should see the old Spell books he's borrowed from the Manor."
She gave him a stern look. Chuckling, he put on his best apologetic smile and changed the subject. "We were going to pop over after dinner, tell you about the trial, and then ask for a bit favour, but…"
Her face was suddenly open and familiar again. "Anything, Harry, what is it?"
Realising he didn't quite know how to ask without giving away his motive, he just started talking, and hoped she'd make some sense out of it.
"We're-there's somewhere we'd like to go. It'll just be for a couple of hours, and we're wondering if you wouldn't mind? We'll be back before he needs feeding again, but just in case, Draco's getting ready some of-um, you know-his milk, to bring along…" he tailed off and smiled at her sheepishly, knowing he must look like a man with a newborn who was willing to move the world for the possibility of sex.
He tried smoothing down his hair with his hands, but quickly gave up and summoned a brush for something to do.
Her eyes twinkled. "You're taking him out, aren't you? This is serious."
He sighed, only slightly embarrassed. "Yeah."
"Say no more," she said, beaming. "Bring the baby over whenever you're ready. We'll take good care of him."
"I know you will. Thanks, Hermione."
"Have fun, Harry," she said with a wink, and then pulled away from the fire.
Harry knew he was blushing now, but he really didn't care.
He frantically pulled the brush through his hair and looked, with a bit of trepidation, at the mirror. Not bad. The t-shirt looked good too: plain black with vertical ribbing. It fit him perfectly and shone a little when he turned into the light.
"Passable," Draco said, sliding up behind him and running his hands along the outline of Harry's spine, and down the back of the jeans Draco had also picked out for him.
Harry smiled into the mirror.
"What did she say?" Draco asked, moving his lips against Harry's ear.
He loved when Draco did that, but it tended to make him forget what was being asked. He tried to remember what they'd just been talking about.
"She said we can bring him whenever we're ready."
"Well, then. What are we waiting for? Get a move on, Potter."
Harry yelped as his left buttock was firmly pinched.
~*~
The club was loud, crowded and smoky-just as Harry had described it-but it was exactly what Draco needed. The music was bass-heavy and unfamiliar, but it didn't matter. Four months spent indoors and pregnant had given him a new appreciation for anything different. He finally felt as if some of his energy was returning, and he wanted to make sure Harry was there to see him at his best. He led them out to the dance floor and started to give Harry a show he hoped would be hard to forget.
It had been a long time since he'd been dancing, but he still remembered how to move, and it felt brilliant. Empowering. He started with leading Harry's hands to his hips and swayed them side-to-side, following the steady rhythms pumping from the giant speakers. Harry took hold of the belt loops and pulled but Draco stopped him with a hand on his chest and mouthed the word 'watch'.
Harry mock-pouted, but obediently stayed where he was, fingers loosely playing along the band of Draco's trousers. Draco flashed him a devilish smile, crossed his arms low in front, and grabbed the hem of his silver shirt. He felt a rush of power at the sight of Harry. He was barely moving, hardly breathing-staring hungrily and biting his lower lip. He gave a shallow nod and Draco began to gather the shimmery fabric up into his palms, making a new dance out of removing clothing in a public place. Harry continued to stare, and someone behind him let out a whooping shout and applauded.
Draco focused only on the one person he was there to impress, and continued sliding the shirt up until his arms were crossed high on his chest, parallel to each other, frozen there until he gave the faintest tilt of his head, and Harry knew it was time to take what he wanted.
It was only a moment before the shirt was pulled up, off, and forgotten in the tangle of arms, lips, hands and inaudible words that passed between them. Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's neck and thrilled at the slide of his sensitive nipples over the smooth fabric of Harry's new shirt. Harry seemed entranced, unable to stop caressing Draco's back or tasting his neck. Couples backed away from them, but Draco just threw back his head, shot them a dreamy smirk and then rolled his hips in a slow, wide sweep that froze Harry mid-lick. He snapped his head up, and locked his eyes with Draco's.
Message received.
Within two minutes, they had recovered Draco's shirt and were running out the club entrance, hand in hand, in search of an unoccupied location fit for Dissaparating from.
~*~
Back at the cottage, Harry led them the wrong way down the hall, towards Charlie's old room. He kissed the puzzlement from Draco's brow and whispered, "It's a surprise. Trust me."
He opened the door slowly, eyes fixed on Draco for the reaction he was hoping for. When startled eyes moved to his, Harry pulled him close and took advantage of Draco's open mouth. He didn't know what it was about kissing Draco, but now that he had permission to do it whenever he wanted to, he hardly wanted to do anything else-almost. He pulled back and grinned.
"What do you think?"
Draco took his time looking around the room. "A bed that takes up nearly the whole room, candles…" he listed, tilting his neck to look past Harry's shoulder to the conspicuous jar on the nightstand. "-and lube. Either Charlie is back and trying to seduce us, or you're looking to get lucky."
"Hmm…" Harry pretended to be deep in thought. "I already have a beautiful man in my bed every night and a healthy son-I'd say I'm pretty lucky already."
Draco rolled his eyes to the ceiling and back. "Oh, that's horrible. Pick that up in Gryffindor?"
They both laughed, and Harry tugged Draco into the room.
"I don't know the mating rituals of Slytherins. I could just worship you from the bed for a while, I suppose," he teased.
"Better," Draco said flatly, failing to keep his grin hidden. "But no finesse."
Once the door was shut and the candles lit, the heat and humour of the situation seemed to evaporate, and Harry was left feeling suddenly unsteady. They were standing at the foot of the bed, holding each other loosely, studying each other as if they were just two normal men who'd met, had a good time together, and were now contemplating something more, but neither was moving them forward.
It was nothing for them to climb under the covers together, touch and kiss-they'd been doing that for months, but until now they'd never…
"Feels weird, doesn't it?" He asked, swallowing.
Draco nodded, but began moving his fingers along the base of Harry's spine, light, quick touches that warmed his skin.
"Well, we knew it would be. Wasn't it you who said we never do any thing the right way 'round?"
Harry chuckled, and began working his own fingers down the back of Draco's trousers. He relaxed slightly, happy to be back on somewhat common ground.
"No, that was you. But you're right."
"I say it makes things more interesting. Don't you agree?"
"And terrifying," he admitted, as he swallowed and fought with the words he wanted to say. It was far more difficult than he'd imagined.
Working on instinct, he moved forward and slowly lost himself in the sensation of Draco's mouth moving against his. Every brush of their tongues added another log to the fire burning far below his belt. Draco moaned and Harry pulled back drunkenly. "God, Draco, I want you, but I…"
Harry was stuck somewhere between elation at the thought of Draco being his first, and crushing embarrassment that at twenty-two he was still a virgin-technically. He knew he was being stupid, but that small bit of self-awareness didn't help the fact that his fingers were now shaking.
"Shut it, Potter," Draco teased, biting gently at Harry's lip. "Let me show you how it's done."
He captured Harry's unsteady hands and brought them to his lips in a recreation of their first real night together. With every fingertip that was caressed and nibbled, Harry's breathing became easier, and he lost himself in Draco's tenderness. He closed his eyes and focused in on the sensations.
A sharp bite to the pad of his thumb, and his eyelids fly open once more. He was greeted by the most innocent smile he'd ever seen. It quickly turned mischievous, and Harry laughed.
"Enough foreplay, Potter. I want you naked and in this bed now."
"Yes, sir."
~*~
Draco knew they were pushing for time, and that Hermione was most likely tapping her foot, but he couldn't quite school enough energy to pull back the covers and untangle himself from Harry, who was mumbling into his pillow. Draco didn't blame him-he felt the same way: warm, incoherent, sated, well worked-over, and something else…something new.
He stared at the wooden ceiling beams, and snaked his hand under the covers and along Harry's warm side until he found the hand he'd been searching for. Harry hummed and shifted slowly until he was wrapped around Draco's side, arm gently draped over his shoulder so that their fingers were still connected.
Draco closed his eyes and watched their lovemaking again in his mind's eye, smiling to himself as he remembered Harry trying to keep still as Draco climbed over him and straddled his hips. It was his favourite moment of the night, and they hadn't done anything yet.
His plan had been to make a show out of preparing himself-working Harry into a mess of need until he forgot all about inexperience and took what he wanted-what they both wanted. But it didn't happen that way.
Kneeling over Harry's hips, Draco had looked down just as Harry looked up at him. The heat and hurry faded somewhere in the moment that they shared, and Draco sensed they were both somewhat out of their depths-moving to new ground without a map. Harry smiled and then took his gaze down to where the bump used to separate them. Draco closed his eyes and sighed as warm hands smoothed over his skin, avoided his cock and moved along the scar that was nearly gone now. It was a touch more intimate than sex, and made the hot fuck he'd envisioned seem unattractive and far too common.
"I love you, Draco."
He opened his eyes.
He'd been waiting for it, expecting it, but on his mental list of things he was planning on confessing and hearing it wasn't supposed to happen yet-maybe not for another year-months at least.
"I know it's soon, but it's the truth," Harry whispered.
And Draco could do nothing but nod, swallow back emotion that hadn't been there a second before, and accept the tears that came from nowhere and landed on Harry's chest.
It was embarrassing at first, and a flicker of an apology passed over Harry's expression, but in reflection, he was glad it happened the way it did. Draco had been holding up his wall of superficiality, hiding months of stress, worry, anger, fear and a host of other unhealthy things, and without his knowledge, they'd been slowly chipping away at it together. When it broke, Harry was there.
He could have never found that with Blaise-would never have wanted to.
Making love after breaking apart, feeling Harry slowly, finally entering him as he sank down-it was right, it was wonderful, but it was only one small flicker the full life that was possible-one he never would have imagined for himself before…before The Infection. Before Harry.
He turned his head and was met with very open, very awake green eyes. He kissed Harry's slightly parted lips, and then twisted around until they were facing each other fully. He reached again for Harry's hand.
"While we're doing things out of order, we might as well get married."
Harry pushed himself up on an elbow, looking shell-shocked. "Really?"
Draco shrugged lazily and pulled their hands under the covers.
"The way I see it, we've already had one event at the Manor, it's easy to find, and probably still decorated from the naming ceremony," he said, playfully brushing their fingers along his reawakened cock. "We should make the most out of it, don't you think?"
Harry played along, but was still looking at him with confusion. "Very economical of you."
"Thank you." He lifted his head a little, and Harry met him halfway for another kiss.
"Also," he continued, "the cottage is comfortable. If I don't lay claim," in a smooth motion, Draco pulled his hand-still wrapped with Harry's-out to the side. Harry fell forward with the movement and they were suddenly pressed together. Draco almost lost his train of thought, but then recovered it again. "-someone is bound to try to have me usurped."
"Wouldn't want that," Harry said against Draco's throat.
Harry slid his leg over Draco and shifted his weight so he was above him, around him. They were touching everywhere, and Draco couldn't stop the moan that escaped. He made another when Harry lowered his head again to press kisses over Draco's flushed collarbone.
"And there's Orion," Draco panted.
Harry looked up and grinned. "You already have a claim on him."
He snaked his hands up and around Harry's neck. "True, but as all stands now, I'm afraid he'll grow up a bastard."
Harry laughed. Draco felt it roll through both of them.
"Poor kid. All right. I'll do it-for his sake."
Then Harry was on the move again, lower, and Draco's legs were suddenly the ones on the outside. Arms slid under his back, and Harry's mouth was everywhere-exploring his chest, licking his stomach, and throwing Draco's game out the window, down the stairs, and over the back fence. He didn't care what happened next as long as it kept happening. A rough cheek slid along the side of his cock, and his hands flew into the head of hair between his legs. He held his breath, and watched the poetry of Harry's tongue sliding up, over and around. His fingers closed into fists, trapping black hair and pulling a moan from Harry that Draco couldn't help but echo.
Only when he was on the edge of 'too close', did he gently tug Harry up until they were side by side. He wanted to watch again, make another memory of Harry coming undone. He was blotchy and heavy lidded, and as far-gone as Draco felt. He pulled their hips together, and they both cried out. Friction took precedence over grace, and they rocked unevenly and blissfully toward completion.
~*~
Harry's chest burned as he rolled onto to his back-bringing an exhausted Draco with him-and tried to get his breathing back under control. He had no idea of the time, except he had a feeling it was a good hour past 'reasonable'. There was no way Hermione would believe excuses, but he doubted he'd need them anyway. She probably knew exactly what they were doing, or had just done-twice.
Draco muttered a few different cleaning spells, and Harry took it as good a sign as any to get dressed and moving. A hand pressed him back into the bed, and all at once, Draco was leaning over him, biting down on his own bottom lip and releasing it a few times. His eyes shone, but Harry couldn't read anything but distress there.
His heart fell. Something was wrong.
At a loss of what to do, he just started talking. "Is it about the wedding, because we..."
Draco rubbed his forehead with his free hand. He looked suddenly tired.
"No, Potter. I meant that-I want to, but..."
Harry began to panic, searching for something he might have said or done to spoil their incredible evening-turn it into whatever it was that was putting lines of worry around Draco's eyes.
"Tell me, please."
He didn't expect the kiss to his forehead or the gentle hand that was carding through his hair.
Draco gave him a weary smile. "Thank you-for what you said to me before the whole crying…"
Harry let out his breath. "You're welcome." he said quickly, getting a clue finally, although in truth, understanding didn't make him feel any more stable. "But it's all right-you don't have to say…"
"I'm trying. It's-I've never said it before-to anyone."
Harry stroked his hand down Draco's arm to the hand covering his heart.
"I know. That's good enough for me." And it was, for now. It was more than he'd ever had before.
Draco's smile was sad, but honest.
"No it's not, but I'll work on it. I want this. I want all three of us."
There were several responses running through Harry's mind, but none of them made it to his lips. Draco got there first, and took his time wordlessly communicating what he was unable to say. Harry returned his own message in the same language, feeling the tension around his heart diminish with each long minute the kiss continued.
Draco pulled away first, rested his forehead against Harry's and chuckled under his breath.
"I'm glad we got that straight."
Harry laughed with him. "Yeah, me too."
"We should probably go get our son before Granger gets it into her head to keep him."
Harry stole one more kiss, playfully pushed Draco off to the side, and sat up.
"She'll give him back. They're getting an Infection of their own. Should arrive in November, according to her calculations."
The candles were still casting romantic light around the room, but they were unhelpful for locating dark clothes on the dark floor. He ordered the lights on, and Draco groaned beside him, pulling the blankets over his head.
"Oh, dear Merlin up a Flag Pole-more Weasleys," Draco moaned from somewhere in his cocoon. "There should be a Ministry enforced quota."
Harry laughed and began the hunt for his trousers. "Maybe, or we could try to catch up," he half-teased, eyeing Draco as his head popped out of the coverlet, eyes slowly adjusting to the brightened lights.
Harry smoothed down his hair and threw a handful of powder into the Floo. As the flames jumped up around him, he caught a glimpse of Draco springing naked from the bed.
"WHAT? Potter, get back here!"
Harry winked, closed his eyes against the whirling soot, and spun toward their future.
~*~
Recipient: ddayspring
Title: The Infection (Part 3 of 3)
The Infection Part 3
~*~
Harry sat in the rocking chair next to the bed, and looked over to where Draco was finally clean, healed and sleeping. His face was paler than Harry had ever seen it before, but considering what he'd been through, the fact that he was even alive was a miracle.
Nothing had gone the way they'd expected-practised-and yet Curtis had been remarkable, remaining calm and business-like through it all: the blood, thrashing, profanity and chilling silence that settled over them once the baby was free of Draco's belly. It was a moment Harry never wanted to feel again-the fear that closed around his heart in the few horrifying seconds when no sound came from the small, limp purple body laying in the Healer's large, wet hands.
The world reanimated at the first cries from the tiny mouth, and Harry had been temporarily blinded by tears that filled his eyes and spilled over his cheeks as he sobbed with joy.
What came next, he would never forget: a flurry of voices and spells, a sleepy whisper of his name from the bed, and Narcissa Malfoy walking toward him with a baby-his baby-bundled in a startlingly white blanket, and handing it carefully to him.
"Meet your son," she said, as he looked down into the folds and saw silver-blue eyes blinking up at him. His heart jumped into his throat, and he had a hard time remembering how to breathe. He'd never seen anything so amazing. His world narrowed to that one small bundle, and the little nose that was a miniature of his own. He didn't have any hands free to wipe the tears that were falling onto his son, but he didn't care. In Harry's opinion, if there was ever a good time to cry, it was when a life was either leaving the world, or being added to it.
"What have you decided to call him?"
Her voice pulled him briefly away from the curse turned miracle, who was slowly falling asleep in his arms. He looked again to Draco, and then back up to where Curtis and Narcissa were silently watching him. Luckily, he and Draco had agreed on a boy's name only a few hours before.
"Orion."
She nodded her approval and bent to kiss her new grandson. She then moved gracefully to the bed, kissed Draco, and told Harry to notify her when he awoke again. On her way to the fireplace, she paused in front of him again, brushed the back of her hand over the baby's flushed cheek, gave him a soft smile, and then took the Floo back to the Manor.
Curtis raised his eyebrows.
"Orion?"
"Constellations," Harry offered him in explanation. "Black family tradition."
"I know all about family naming traditions." He knelt in front of Harry and gently rubbed his finger over the small fist squished up under Orion's chin. He changed the tone of his voice to sound as if he was going to read Orion a bedtime story. "As I've been told, my mother spent three months trying to talk my father out of naming me Nobby the Fourth."
Harry stifled his laugh, trying not to move the baby too much or wake up Draco.
"Is it rude to say I'm glad she won?"
"Not at all," he said, adding his own quiet chuckle. "She wanted Curtis after her twin brother who died just before I was born."
"That's reasonable."
"However," he continued in story-voice, "my father had his mind set on tradition, and is a professional politician used to getting what he wants."
"So what finally did it?" Harry asked, realising for the first time how little he really new about their Healer.
"She got Uncle Curtis' ghost to follow him everywhere until he eventually gave in."
"Clever," Harry said with a soft laugh. "Draco was the one who suggested Orion. It was the name of my Godfather's father."
Curtis' eyebrows leapt again. "I've heard a story or two about Orion Black."
Harry grimaced. "Me too, but I figure our Orion will have a chance to make the name his own. The best part is that Draco said we could call him 'Ryan' when Narcissa isn't around," he said with a wide grin as Curtis chuckled.
"Well, whatever he's called, he'll be loved." Curtis moved his hand from the baby to the arm of the rocking chair and stood. "Considering all the factors, things could have been much worse. You both did admirably."
Harry swallowed, looked again at his son, and tried not to think about all the things that could have gone wrong. He pushed against the floor and the chair rocked smoothly back and forth.
"It was worth it," he whispered. "Thank you, Curtis."
"My pleasure."
Harry caught sight of the Healer yawning.
"We'll be fine for a few hours. Go get some sleep."
"All right, but you let me know if anything changes." Harry nodded. "Oh, and I know we talked about the feedings, but Draco may be a little nervous or embarrassed at first, so just be there for support if he needs it. Even though he doesn't have to deal with breasts, the process can still be intimidating."
Harry nodded again. They'd read all the material, but Draco had confessed to being sceptical that it would all work the way it was supposed to.
Curtis seemed to have cottoned on to Harry's train of thought.
"Allan, my husband, had a bit of trouble at first, but within a day, he was a pro-they both were."
"Charlie said you delivered your daughter," Harry said, remembering Draco's cries and Curtis' calm presence during the chaos. He pulled Orion a little closer.
"Yes, Ava." His face lit up. "She'll be a year next week. Seems like yesterday."
"Wow. That must have been…"
"It was," he said, waving his wand at the last of the soiled towels and sheets. "Every birth is amazing, but when it's your own child…well, there's no describing it, is there?"
Their eyes met, and for the first time, Harry recognised the wonder he felt and saw it reflected there. He smiled and silently agreed that he'd never find the words to properly express what he was feeling.
The Healer collected his jacket and strode toward the fireplace, but turned around once his hand was full of Floo Powder.
"He's going to change your life, Harry."
Harry turned his gaze toward the bed, reassured by the steady rise and fall of Draco's chest.
"He already has."
~*~
The Reception Hall of the Manor had always seemed large enough for any event they would ever need to host, but as a mystifying number of Weasleys and well-wishers kept stepping out of the Floo and turning up at the door, Draco felt as if the walls were closing in. His arms tightened instinctively around his son.
He silently swore at himself for allowing his mother to talk them into throwing the naming ceremony only five days after giving birth. He was sore, tired and cranky, and didn't appreciate the constant noise and attention as much as everyone assumed he should.
Harry must have felt him tense up, because he was suddenly making excuses for them to Granger, and promising to return shortly. He felt Potter's hand gently lead him by the elbow out of the Hall, around the corner, and out to the covered and blissfully empty conservatory where the air was a cool and refreshing in contrast to the suffocating heat they'd just left behind.
Harry's arms wrapped around him from behind and Draco relaxed against him, taking a deep breath and feeling much better.
Orion burped and kicked his little legs.
"All right?" Harry asked, placing a kiss over Draco's temple.
"Just so many people. I have no reason to feel so-so…" He frowned in frustration when the word wouldn't come.
Curtis said his emotions and memory would continue to be unreliable for another few weeks yet, but that didn't make it any easier to accept.
"Protective?" Harry offered, gently.
Draco nodded and smiled. He was trying not to find amusement in the way Harry approached him on uneven footing due to the rapid mood changes, and yet he was secretly glad that it took quite a lot to rattle Potter once his mind was set on something. Luckily for Draco, Harry's mind was firmly set on the idea of their small and very new family.
"I've been feeling that way too-edgy, I guess, but I didn't really know what it was until now."
Draco looked over his shoulder at Harry. "Why do they think they have a right to run up and start poking at him and pulling him out of my arms?"
Harry shrugged. "It's the force of a baby, I guess. Everyone just wants to see him, and share in the whole moment. That's what Molly keeps telling me, anyway."
"I know that," Draco said with a sigh, "-but try telling that to my body. I feel empty when he's not…Merlin, I sound like a woman."
There was a cough from somewhere behind them. They both turned to see Charlie stepping into the room.
"Sorry to interrupt the family moment, but I…"
"No, it's fine," Harry said, stepping away from Draco and offering his hand to Charlie. "I was wondering if you were going to turn up."
"Yeah, sorry about that, but we got a break in the-" he paused, his eyes flicked to Draco and then back to Harry. "-case," he finished flatly.
"Blaise?" Draco asked.
"Yeah, caught both him and his mum trying to make a go of it in Muggle Paris."
The baby began to fuss. Draco started a rocking, bouncing movement, and Orion gurgled happily.
Charlie added something else, but Draco missed it, too focused on how much his son looked like Harry, except for the eye colour and the translucent peach fuzz covering his little head.
Draco looked up. "Sorry, what was that you said?"
"We sent word to all the families that his mum had deceived, and told them that the case was being reopened. Responses came faster than we could copy them down. She's made a lot of enemies, even more than I imagined."
"Where's Blaise?" Harry asked, placing a finger in Orion's open palm. The miniature fingers closed around it instinctively.
"Holding cell at Headquarters. That's why I'm here, actually. His preliminary hearing is scheduled for next week. I know it's not a lot of time, but…"
Draco looked at Harry, saw the answer he was looking for, and then said, "We'll be there."
"If there's anything you need…"
"Thanks, Charlie," Harry said, offering his free hand again. "-for everything."
"Don't mention it."
Draco chuckled as Orion stuck his little tongue out at Charlie.
"Hey, little man," Charlie said in a high voice, waving a freckly hand. "It's Uncle Charlie."
Draco rolled his eyes, but still found himself smiling, regardless.
~*~
The Floo whooshed to life just as Harry was pulling on his new black t-shirt. Draco had given it to him a minute ago while saying something about nursing Orion once more before they left, and giving Harry orders to Firecall Granger and to be looking edible by the time he returned from the nursery.
Harry was sure his cheeks were still red as Hermione's face came into focus in the flames.
"Oh, good. I was just beginning to worry," she said on a sigh of relief.
Harry stopped smoothing the wrinkles out of his shirt and stared at her for a moment.
"Ah, what?"
"Well, what happened?" she asked impatiently.
He had no idea how she knew what he thought she did. When he kept looking at her without answering, she tried again.
"Didn't you see the evening edition of The Daily Prophet, Harry?"
Harry let out a long breath and rubbed his forehead. At least he knew what was going on now.
"No. Let me guess, though. The results from Blaise's sentencing are on page one?"
She shook her head quickly. "Not the results, no, just that it happened today in a closed session," she said the last bit with an accusatory tone that he'd heard Mrs Weasley use on Arthur.
"Well, there goes the surprise," he said, shaking his head at the resourcefulness of Wizarding reporters. "No one except involved parties were supposed to know about the date and time. I'm sorry."
He thought her cheeks might be filling with colour, but it was hard to tell in the flames.
"Oh, well. I suppose that's understandable. Were you happy with the results?"
"I guess. We're just glad it's over. He's serving one year in detention and then five years probation without magic, working as maintenance staff at a Muggle orphanage-under supervision."
"Well, that's rather creative. Sounds like the Wizengamot is finally putting some thought into their punishments," she said while nodding slowly. "Anything yet on his mother?"
"She'll be in-between trials and protective custody for a while, I think-years, maybe."
Hermione took a deep breath, her eyes furious. "I can't believe…" she pressed her lips tightly together, and Harry could tell she was keeping herself from pouring out her opinion on the matter.
"I know. Draco still spends most of his free time figuring out the nastiest way to Curse the Zabini Family Line. You should see the old Spell books he's borrowed from the Manor."
She gave him a stern look. Chuckling, he put on his best apologetic smile and changed the subject. "We were going to pop over after dinner, tell you about the trial, and then ask for a bit favour, but…"
Her face was suddenly open and familiar again. "Anything, Harry, what is it?"
Realising he didn't quite know how to ask without giving away his motive, he just started talking, and hoped she'd make some sense out of it.
"We're-there's somewhere we'd like to go. It'll just be for a couple of hours, and we're wondering if you wouldn't mind? We'll be back before he needs feeding again, but just in case, Draco's getting ready some of-um, you know-his milk, to bring along…" he tailed off and smiled at her sheepishly, knowing he must look like a man with a newborn who was willing to move the world for the possibility of sex.
He tried smoothing down his hair with his hands, but quickly gave up and summoned a brush for something to do.
Her eyes twinkled. "You're taking him out, aren't you? This is serious."
He sighed, only slightly embarrassed. "Yeah."
"Say no more," she said, beaming. "Bring the baby over whenever you're ready. We'll take good care of him."
"I know you will. Thanks, Hermione."
"Have fun, Harry," she said with a wink, and then pulled away from the fire.
Harry knew he was blushing now, but he really didn't care.
He frantically pulled the brush through his hair and looked, with a bit of trepidation, at the mirror. Not bad. The t-shirt looked good too: plain black with vertical ribbing. It fit him perfectly and shone a little when he turned into the light.
"Passable," Draco said, sliding up behind him and running his hands along the outline of Harry's spine, and down the back of the jeans Draco had also picked out for him.
Harry smiled into the mirror.
"What did she say?" Draco asked, moving his lips against Harry's ear.
He loved when Draco did that, but it tended to make him forget what was being asked. He tried to remember what they'd just been talking about.
"She said we can bring him whenever we're ready."
"Well, then. What are we waiting for? Get a move on, Potter."
Harry yelped as his left buttock was firmly pinched.
~*~
The club was loud, crowded and smoky-just as Harry had described it-but it was exactly what Draco needed. The music was bass-heavy and unfamiliar, but it didn't matter. Four months spent indoors and pregnant had given him a new appreciation for anything different. He finally felt as if some of his energy was returning, and he wanted to make sure Harry was there to see him at his best. He led them out to the dance floor and started to give Harry a show he hoped would be hard to forget.
It had been a long time since he'd been dancing, but he still remembered how to move, and it felt brilliant. Empowering. He started with leading Harry's hands to his hips and swayed them side-to-side, following the steady rhythms pumping from the giant speakers. Harry took hold of the belt loops and pulled but Draco stopped him with a hand on his chest and mouthed the word 'watch'.
Harry mock-pouted, but obediently stayed where he was, fingers loosely playing along the band of Draco's trousers. Draco flashed him a devilish smile, crossed his arms low in front, and grabbed the hem of his silver shirt. He felt a rush of power at the sight of Harry. He was barely moving, hardly breathing-staring hungrily and biting his lower lip. He gave a shallow nod and Draco began to gather the shimmery fabric up into his palms, making a new dance out of removing clothing in a public place. Harry continued to stare, and someone behind him let out a whooping shout and applauded.
Draco focused only on the one person he was there to impress, and continued sliding the shirt up until his arms were crossed high on his chest, parallel to each other, frozen there until he gave the faintest tilt of his head, and Harry knew it was time to take what he wanted.
It was only a moment before the shirt was pulled up, off, and forgotten in the tangle of arms, lips, hands and inaudible words that passed between them. Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's neck and thrilled at the slide of his sensitive nipples over the smooth fabric of Harry's new shirt. Harry seemed entranced, unable to stop caressing Draco's back or tasting his neck. Couples backed away from them, but Draco just threw back his head, shot them a dreamy smirk and then rolled his hips in a slow, wide sweep that froze Harry mid-lick. He snapped his head up, and locked his eyes with Draco's.
Message received.
Within two minutes, they had recovered Draco's shirt and were running out the club entrance, hand in hand, in search of an unoccupied location fit for Dissaparating from.
~*~
Back at the cottage, Harry led them the wrong way down the hall, towards Charlie's old room. He kissed the puzzlement from Draco's brow and whispered, "It's a surprise. Trust me."
He opened the door slowly, eyes fixed on Draco for the reaction he was hoping for. When startled eyes moved to his, Harry pulled him close and took advantage of Draco's open mouth. He didn't know what it was about kissing Draco, but now that he had permission to do it whenever he wanted to, he hardly wanted to do anything else-almost. He pulled back and grinned.
"What do you think?"
Draco took his time looking around the room. "A bed that takes up nearly the whole room, candles…" he listed, tilting his neck to look past Harry's shoulder to the conspicuous jar on the nightstand. "-and lube. Either Charlie is back and trying to seduce us, or you're looking to get lucky."
"Hmm…" Harry pretended to be deep in thought. "I already have a beautiful man in my bed every night and a healthy son-I'd say I'm pretty lucky already."
Draco rolled his eyes to the ceiling and back. "Oh, that's horrible. Pick that up in Gryffindor?"
They both laughed, and Harry tugged Draco into the room.
"I don't know the mating rituals of Slytherins. I could just worship you from the bed for a while, I suppose," he teased.
"Better," Draco said flatly, failing to keep his grin hidden. "But no finesse."
Once the door was shut and the candles lit, the heat and humour of the situation seemed to evaporate, and Harry was left feeling suddenly unsteady. They were standing at the foot of the bed, holding each other loosely, studying each other as if they were just two normal men who'd met, had a good time together, and were now contemplating something more, but neither was moving them forward.
It was nothing for them to climb under the covers together, touch and kiss-they'd been doing that for months, but until now they'd never…
"Feels weird, doesn't it?" He asked, swallowing.
Draco nodded, but began moving his fingers along the base of Harry's spine, light, quick touches that warmed his skin.
"Well, we knew it would be. Wasn't it you who said we never do any thing the right way 'round?"
Harry chuckled, and began working his own fingers down the back of Draco's trousers. He relaxed slightly, happy to be back on somewhat common ground.
"No, that was you. But you're right."
"I say it makes things more interesting. Don't you agree?"
"And terrifying," he admitted, as he swallowed and fought with the words he wanted to say. It was far more difficult than he'd imagined.
Working on instinct, he moved forward and slowly lost himself in the sensation of Draco's mouth moving against his. Every brush of their tongues added another log to the fire burning far below his belt. Draco moaned and Harry pulled back drunkenly. "God, Draco, I want you, but I…"
Harry was stuck somewhere between elation at the thought of Draco being his first, and crushing embarrassment that at twenty-two he was still a virgin-technically. He knew he was being stupid, but that small bit of self-awareness didn't help the fact that his fingers were now shaking.
"Shut it, Potter," Draco teased, biting gently at Harry's lip. "Let me show you how it's done."
He captured Harry's unsteady hands and brought them to his lips in a recreation of their first real night together. With every fingertip that was caressed and nibbled, Harry's breathing became easier, and he lost himself in Draco's tenderness. He closed his eyes and focused in on the sensations.
A sharp bite to the pad of his thumb, and his eyelids fly open once more. He was greeted by the most innocent smile he'd ever seen. It quickly turned mischievous, and Harry laughed.
"Enough foreplay, Potter. I want you naked and in this bed now."
"Yes, sir."
~*~
Draco knew they were pushing for time, and that Hermione was most likely tapping her foot, but he couldn't quite school enough energy to pull back the covers and untangle himself from Harry, who was mumbling into his pillow. Draco didn't blame him-he felt the same way: warm, incoherent, sated, well worked-over, and something else…something new.
He stared at the wooden ceiling beams, and snaked his hand under the covers and along Harry's warm side until he found the hand he'd been searching for. Harry hummed and shifted slowly until he was wrapped around Draco's side, arm gently draped over his shoulder so that their fingers were still connected.
Draco closed his eyes and watched their lovemaking again in his mind's eye, smiling to himself as he remembered Harry trying to keep still as Draco climbed over him and straddled his hips. It was his favourite moment of the night, and they hadn't done anything yet.
His plan had been to make a show out of preparing himself-working Harry into a mess of need until he forgot all about inexperience and took what he wanted-what they both wanted. But it didn't happen that way.
Kneeling over Harry's hips, Draco had looked down just as Harry looked up at him. The heat and hurry faded somewhere in the moment that they shared, and Draco sensed they were both somewhat out of their depths-moving to new ground without a map. Harry smiled and then took his gaze down to where the bump used to separate them. Draco closed his eyes and sighed as warm hands smoothed over his skin, avoided his cock and moved along the scar that was nearly gone now. It was a touch more intimate than sex, and made the hot fuck he'd envisioned seem unattractive and far too common.
"I love you, Draco."
He opened his eyes.
He'd been waiting for it, expecting it, but on his mental list of things he was planning on confessing and hearing it wasn't supposed to happen yet-maybe not for another year-months at least.
"I know it's soon, but it's the truth," Harry whispered.
And Draco could do nothing but nod, swallow back emotion that hadn't been there a second before, and accept the tears that came from nowhere and landed on Harry's chest.
It was embarrassing at first, and a flicker of an apology passed over Harry's expression, but in reflection, he was glad it happened the way it did. Draco had been holding up his wall of superficiality, hiding months of stress, worry, anger, fear and a host of other unhealthy things, and without his knowledge, they'd been slowly chipping away at it together. When it broke, Harry was there.
He could have never found that with Blaise-would never have wanted to.
Making love after breaking apart, feeling Harry slowly, finally entering him as he sank down-it was right, it was wonderful, but it was only one small flicker the full life that was possible-one he never would have imagined for himself before…before The Infection. Before Harry.
He turned his head and was met with very open, very awake green eyes. He kissed Harry's slightly parted lips, and then twisted around until they were facing each other fully. He reached again for Harry's hand.
"While we're doing things out of order, we might as well get married."
Harry pushed himself up on an elbow, looking shell-shocked. "Really?"
Draco shrugged lazily and pulled their hands under the covers.
"The way I see it, we've already had one event at the Manor, it's easy to find, and probably still decorated from the naming ceremony," he said, playfully brushing their fingers along his reawakened cock. "We should make the most out of it, don't you think?"
Harry played along, but was still looking at him with confusion. "Very economical of you."
"Thank you." He lifted his head a little, and Harry met him halfway for another kiss.
"Also," he continued, "the cottage is comfortable. If I don't lay claim," in a smooth motion, Draco pulled his hand-still wrapped with Harry's-out to the side. Harry fell forward with the movement and they were suddenly pressed together. Draco almost lost his train of thought, but then recovered it again. "-someone is bound to try to have me usurped."
"Wouldn't want that," Harry said against Draco's throat.
Harry slid his leg over Draco and shifted his weight so he was above him, around him. They were touching everywhere, and Draco couldn't stop the moan that escaped. He made another when Harry lowered his head again to press kisses over Draco's flushed collarbone.
"And there's Orion," Draco panted.
Harry looked up and grinned. "You already have a claim on him."
He snaked his hands up and around Harry's neck. "True, but as all stands now, I'm afraid he'll grow up a bastard."
Harry laughed. Draco felt it roll through both of them.
"Poor kid. All right. I'll do it-for his sake."
Then Harry was on the move again, lower, and Draco's legs were suddenly the ones on the outside. Arms slid under his back, and Harry's mouth was everywhere-exploring his chest, licking his stomach, and throwing Draco's game out the window, down the stairs, and over the back fence. He didn't care what happened next as long as it kept happening. A rough cheek slid along the side of his cock, and his hands flew into the head of hair between his legs. He held his breath, and watched the poetry of Harry's tongue sliding up, over and around. His fingers closed into fists, trapping black hair and pulling a moan from Harry that Draco couldn't help but echo.
Only when he was on the edge of 'too close', did he gently tug Harry up until they were side by side. He wanted to watch again, make another memory of Harry coming undone. He was blotchy and heavy lidded, and as far-gone as Draco felt. He pulled their hips together, and they both cried out. Friction took precedence over grace, and they rocked unevenly and blissfully toward completion.
~*~
Harry's chest burned as he rolled onto to his back-bringing an exhausted Draco with him-and tried to get his breathing back under control. He had no idea of the time, except he had a feeling it was a good hour past 'reasonable'. There was no way Hermione would believe excuses, but he doubted he'd need them anyway. She probably knew exactly what they were doing, or had just done-twice.
Draco muttered a few different cleaning spells, and Harry took it as good a sign as any to get dressed and moving. A hand pressed him back into the bed, and all at once, Draco was leaning over him, biting down on his own bottom lip and releasing it a few times. His eyes shone, but Harry couldn't read anything but distress there.
His heart fell. Something was wrong.
At a loss of what to do, he just started talking. "Is it about the wedding, because we..."
Draco rubbed his forehead with his free hand. He looked suddenly tired.
"No, Potter. I meant that-I want to, but..."
Harry began to panic, searching for something he might have said or done to spoil their incredible evening-turn it into whatever it was that was putting lines of worry around Draco's eyes.
"Tell me, please."
He didn't expect the kiss to his forehead or the gentle hand that was carding through his hair.
Draco gave him a weary smile. "Thank you-for what you said to me before the whole crying…"
Harry let out his breath. "You're welcome." he said quickly, getting a clue finally, although in truth, understanding didn't make him feel any more stable. "But it's all right-you don't have to say…"
"I'm trying. It's-I've never said it before-to anyone."
Harry stroked his hand down Draco's arm to the hand covering his heart.
"I know. That's good enough for me." And it was, for now. It was more than he'd ever had before.
Draco's smile was sad, but honest.
"No it's not, but I'll work on it. I want this. I want all three of us."
There were several responses running through Harry's mind, but none of them made it to his lips. Draco got there first, and took his time wordlessly communicating what he was unable to say. Harry returned his own message in the same language, feeling the tension around his heart diminish with each long minute the kiss continued.
Draco pulled away first, rested his forehead against Harry's and chuckled under his breath.
"I'm glad we got that straight."
Harry laughed with him. "Yeah, me too."
"We should probably go get our son before Granger gets it into her head to keep him."
Harry stole one more kiss, playfully pushed Draco off to the side, and sat up.
"She'll give him back. They're getting an Infection of their own. Should arrive in November, according to her calculations."
The candles were still casting romantic light around the room, but they were unhelpful for locating dark clothes on the dark floor. He ordered the lights on, and Draco groaned beside him, pulling the blankets over his head.
"Oh, dear Merlin up a Flag Pole-more Weasleys," Draco moaned from somewhere in his cocoon. "There should be a Ministry enforced quota."
Harry laughed and began the hunt for his trousers. "Maybe, or we could try to catch up," he half-teased, eyeing Draco as his head popped out of the coverlet, eyes slowly adjusting to the brightened lights.
Harry smoothed down his hair and threw a handful of powder into the Floo. As the flames jumped up around him, he caught a glimpse of Draco springing naked from the bed.
"WHAT? Potter, get back here!"
Harry winked, closed his eyes against the whirling soot, and spun toward their future.
~*~