hd inspiration for khateh
Author: dragon_charmer
Recipient: khateh
Title: Never the Same Again (Part 1 of 3)
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, mention of Ron/Hermione
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The war is over ... in fact it never really got started because the Dark Lord proved to be the more powerful. Now five years after Dumbledore's death, Draco Malfoy has something else to worry about besides being a spy.
Warnings: Mpreg *laughs*. Almost canon-compliant to the end of Half-Blood Prince and then takes great liberties with bits and pieces from Deathly Hallows. Both Harry and Draco are over 18.
Total word count: 22,000
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's notes: khateh asked for AU: I'd like a post-Hogwarts fic, with the war still going on. I hope this pushes some of your buttons. Grateful thanks to my beta empathic_siren , who was more helpful than I can say. Any remaining mistakes are down to me.
Never the Same Again Part 1 of 3
-*-*-
Whether your pregnancy was meticulously planned, medically coaxed, or happened by surprise, one thing is certain - your life will never be the same again
-- Catherine Jones - Eating for Pregnancy
-*-*-
01 - 31st March 2002 - Spy
Draco Malfoy’s eyes were closed.
He used to think that he needed to see everything, but recently he’d realised that to feel was just as exquisite. And right now he could feel Harry Potter’s fingers sliding over his skin. Feather-light touches interspersed with the scratch of a sharp nail and the pinch of fingertips. Then there was warm breath and wet kisses that made him tremble and moan.
They were both calmer now. Not as needy as earlier - not as desperate. Draco had been waiting for Harry and had all but pounced on him the moment he’d Apparated into the room. Harry had been just as eager. They hadn’t even bothered to undress completely as they’d groped and fondled until Harry was in him, pounding and moaning as Draco had writhed beneath him.
After they had come down from the euphoria of what always felt like the first time, Draco let Harry undress him. He loved the way those hands worked at the buttons of his shirt, fumbling just a little, like he was being worshipped by the touch. He lay back, letting Harry kiss his lips until they were red and ravished before turning his attention to the rest of Draco’s body. His nipples ached from the way Harry had lapped and nibbled at them until they were hard, sensitive nubs. Harry’s tongue was now in his navel and Draco could feel himself getting harder with each press, as if the little hole was connected directly to his cock.
He thought about looking, to see that dark head bobbing over his abdomen, but that would take away from the sensation of feeling. Instead he reached out blindly until his fingers caught into Harry’s messy hair. He tugged affectionately, his fingers pushing and carding through.
Harry’s mouth fixed onto Draco’s navel. The resultant groan Harry gave vibrated through his belly, making him squirm with delight. Salazar, he loved that being with Harry meant he could let go. Harry made him forget his problems and difficulties.
Harry made him feel.
“You’re putting on weight.”
The emotional bubble broke and Draco’s eyes snapped open, his fingers tightening in the black hair as he glared down at Harry.
“What?”
“Weight.” Harry’s hand rested on Draco’s abdomen and he wiggled it. “You’re getting a little beer belly.” He gave it a kiss. “It’s so sweet.”
Draco scowled petulantly and was just about to disagree indignantly. But Harry’s hand had curled around his erection, giving it a squeeze before taking it into his mouth. Any argument over his weight was forgotten somewhere between Draco’s brain and the head of his cock which was being expertly worked by Harry’s all-too skilful tongue.
He groaned almost pitifully as that tongue poked into the slit of his cock, gathering precome as Harry fisted him and then squeezed his ballsac. He adored Harry going down on him, the man knew exactly how to press every one of Draco’s buttons. He held his breath as the hot heat that was Harry’s mouth surrounded his cock.
Who would have thought after what had happened on top of the Astronomy Tower five years ago that he’d end up with Harry Potter?
Draco came with a cry, knowing that Harry would swallow every drop as if it was ambrosia.
-*-*-
“Do you want tea or coffee?”
Draco glanced away from the mirror, lips quirking into a small smile. Harry, freshly showered and dressed with only a towel around his hips, was in the little kitchen, tea caddy in one hand and coffee grinder in the other.
“It’s afternoon, Potter. What do you think?” He never called Harry by his given name, it was too dangerous to get used to saying it out loud. But the man was always ‘Harry’ in his mind - Harry with his green eyes and messy hair and body to die for.
“Tea then.” Harry grinned as he shook the caddy. “I’d make cucumber sandwiches but I’m right out of cucumbers at the moment. But I do have chocolate - it’s Easter after all.”
“Chocolate would be good, especially if it’s a slab of Honeyduke’s Orange and Chilli. Assuming you can get it through the embargo, of course.” Draco licked his lips appreciatively at the memory of his last bar.
Ambrosius Flume, the owner of Honeyduke’s, and his wife were just two of the many people who’d managed to flee British shores before Voldemort had shut down the borders. It was now almost impossible for any magical person to get out of the country or back in from continental Europe without the necessary paperwork. The Dark Lord had promised not to invade as long as worldwide wizarding community left him and Britain alone. Unfortunately they expected Voldemort to keep his word, which Draco knew he had no intention of doing.
He turned back to the mirror and stared at his profile in the glass. Maybe chocolate wasn’t such a good idea because Harry was right; he had put on a bit of weight. He ran a hand over the slight swell of his abdomen. It couldn’t be that he was eating too much; the food served by Voldemort’s house-elves was always too rich for him and he only ever picked at it. Plus he liked to know exactly where his food had come from; it was all too easy to lace it with potions otherwise. That’s how they’d killed his father - poison in a whortleberry soufflé. Draco had no idea who ‘they’ were, but he suspected it was on Voldemort’s orders. Lucius had been whispering subversive thoughts.
As for exercise, he got plenty of that, running on nervous energy all the time.
Draco peered closer at his mirror image, noting the dark smudges under his eyes. He had trouble sleeping these days as well and blamed it on the stress of his double life - Supporter of Voldemort on the one hand and Spy for Harry Potter on the other. One day his mask would slip and Voldemort would find out. It would only get worse the longer the war went on.
Five years since that fateful night on top of the Astronomy Tower when Dumbledore had told him that killing wasn’t nearly as easy as the innocent believe.
Four years since Voldemort had finally captured Hogwarts and with it the rest of the wizarding Britain.
Three years since the Dark Lord had used his birthday address to name himself Lord High Chancellor of Magic. The Minister would be appointed by and answerable to him and him alone.
Two years since Draco had finally realised Voldemort was a madman and gone to Harry with an offer of spying for him. His father’s death had been the final straw.
One year since they’d first fallen into bed together.
Six months since he’d realised he was in love with Harry Potter.
Draco rubbed absently at his stomach. He’d kept that hidden, along with Harry’s given name. While he was a very accomplished Occlumens, hiding strong emotions was hard and Voldemort enjoyed delving into people’s minds, watching them squirm as he found out their most private secrets and desires.
“Sickle for them.”
Draco could feel Harry’s warmth at his back and knew he was close. But they never touched after sex, not even a goodbye kiss ... especially not a goodbye kiss. They had compartmentalised their lives the day after they’d first fucked. Sex and touching and holding were fine, but the moment it ended and they got up to shower, they became Spy and Spymaster.
But now all he wanted to do was to lean back against Harry’s body and feel skin on skin, those arms wrapped around him.
He took a step forward, away from the warmth, and turned to face Harry. “Is that all my thoughts are worth these days?” He swallowed. Salazar, it would be so easy to reach out and touch Harry’s cheek - push his fingers into the towel-dried hair - pull him forward - kiss those lips.
Instead Draco grabbed his robe and wrapped it around himself. “I need to get back before someone misses me.” He walked away towards the little table and reached for the teapot Harry had placed there. “We’ve got lots to discuss.”
-*-*-
02 - 1st April 2002 - Professor
The Daily Prophet
Victory Week Celebrations opened by Lord Voldemort
Excited crowds lined the streets yesterday for the Third Victory in Britain parade, the inaugural event in a week-long celebration of the Battle of Hogwarts. People waved flags and cheered as those taking part in the pageant wended their way through the streets around Diagon Alley before reaching the Park of Reconciliation where a free picnic and concert were due to take place. The highlight of the day was the presentation of the Order of Merlin Principartus to Lord Voldemort, who accepted this accolade with his normal humility before declaring the festivities well and truly open. Afterwards people disposed of Muggle items they had found in their homes as part of the drive to remove all things non-magical from our world.
“Hello, Professor Malfoy.”
Looking up from his copy of the Daily Prophet, Draco tried to remember the name of the second year student as she ran past him. He had become the Potions teacher at Hogwarts the previous September. She neither excelled or failed and, thus, was in the group of children who were a blur. It was Abigail or Amelia and he thought her father was a minor official in the Ministry - something to do with marketing. She disappeared around a corner before he had chance to respond.
He glanced at the Prophet again and wondered what life would be like for Abigail when she left Hogwarts. The image of Voldemort waved at the crowds, but if he looked closely, Draco was sure some of the people thronging about the Dark Lord looked anything but happy.
Discord in the populace was growing even with the propaganda the Ministry foisted on everyone. He studied a sidebar story in which it was claimed Harry Potter had fled the country and was hiding abroad. Similar claims were made at least once a week in which Harry was either dead, dying or running scared.
Of course Draco knew the truth and that made him smile.
-*-*-
Severus Snape sat behind the huge claw-footed desk in the headmaster’s office. In front of him the stack of paperwork never seemed to decrease and he longed for the womb-like security of the Slytherin dungeons and his own private quarters. Unfortunately, as titular head of Hogwarts, he was expected to reside in much more public rooms.
The real headmaster was, of course, the Dark Lord. Voldemort was the one Severus had to defer to in almost everything, but in the three and a half years he’d held the post, he had kept faith with his promise to Albus Dumbledore to protect all the students as best he could. It hadn’t been easy; Voldemort wanted the students to be well versed in the Dark Arts, no doubt suitable fodder for his future campaigns against Europe and the rest of the world.
He picked up the latest list of those given detentions, the names on it all too familiar. Euan Abercrombie would be lucky to survive to his N.E.W.Ts the way he was going and the same was true of Rose Zetter. How that girl was ever Sorted into Hufflepuff, he had no idea.
Not that there were Houses at Hogwarts any longer. The Dark Lord had banned them two years ago and now everyone was in Slytherin, divided into groups according to their talents. Severus gave a bitter bark of a laugh. Houses by any other name.
He wondered when the British wizarding community would rise up in righteous indignation against their oppressor, but the problem was the Dark Lord had their children. Tagged and magically measured almost before they’d taken their first breaths. He had children as young as five at Hogwarts now - teaching them to be good little wizards and witches.
No, they needed someone to follow and they whispered his name in dark corners. Harry Potter was still the Chosen One even if he was taking his time in dealing with Voldemort.
A knock on the door disturbed his thoughts and he quickly checked the small Foe-Glass hidden in the top drawer of the desk. It never hurt to know who was visiting him. Standing on the other side of the oak door was Draco Malfoy.
Severus pointed his wand at the door and it swung open. “Come in, Mr Malfoy.”
The young man walked across the circular room, stopping before the desk. “Headmaster.” He gave a nod of greeting. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“Of course not. I trust you enjoyed yesterday’s festivities.”
Grey eyes looked at him. “More than you can imagine.”
Severus’ lip twitched a little; he knew exactly where Draco had spent his day and it hadn’t been picnicking in the park. He had been there the night Draco had found out about Lucius’ death and had spent many hours stopping Draco from trying to immediately avenge his father’s death. It was not, he told his one-time student, the time or the place to take on the Dark Lord. Over the course of those hours Severus had finally told Draco about his role in Dumbledore’s (and now Potter’s) Order and had suggested there were other ways to take his retribution. He suggested that Draco become a spy for the Order.
The hard part had been getting Potter to agree.
Severus gestured towards a chair and waited for Draco to sit down. The young man looked tired as he reached into a pocket and pulled out several sheets of parchment. He was aware of several portraits suddenly paying attention and reminded himself that at Hogwarts the wall did, indeed, have ears.
And eyes.
Draco cleared his throat, coughing into his hand, then placed the parchments on the desk. “I’ve been trying to sort out my O.W.L. revision work and I wanted to check whether I’m on the right track.”
With a nod, Severus took the parchments, glancing at the first sheet. It was, as Draco had said, a revision schedule. As he read through it, he intoned wordlessly Legilimens, knowing that if there was something Draco wanted him to know, he would be able to read it in the other’s mind.
Thoughts swirled and there was a brief tantalizing glimpse of bare flesh. It disappeared and in its place were thoughts of Potter finally planning something; Potter wanting to smuggle people into the castle; Potter wanting to know what spells guarded the Dark Lord and whether there were ways around them.
Heartbeat rising just a little, he continued focusing on the parchments. Could Potter really have found a way to defeat Voldemort? He looked at Draco. “I think this needs some alterations, but you are working in the right direction. Perhaps some tea.”
Severus cringed. He was beginning to sound like Dumbledore.
-*-*-
03 - 15th May 2002 - Lover
When Draco had first offered to become a spy for the Order he’d laid down certain conditions, one of which was that no one except himself, Harry and Severus would know. He didn’t want to risk one of Harry’s friends blurting out the truth during some drunken evening in The Leaky Cauldron. Draco was reasonably sure Harry had told Granger and Weasley - the Trinity were rumoured to be inseparable and shared everything. Granger and Weasley were supposed to be an item and it wouldn’t surprise Draco to find out that Harry was part of that item as well.
Expect that when they were together Draco felt that he and Harry belonged, like two pieces of a puzzle that slotted perfectly even if the edges were just a little worn from everything that had happened to them both.
He stood now in Harry’s safe house, staring out the window at the garden where a pair of squirrels chased each other around an oak tree. The tiny Muggle flat was somewhere in the South of England, but apart from that Draco had no idea of the exact location. All he knew was how to Apparate there and how to get through Harry’s Fidelius Charm and the other wards.
Outside the squirrels disappeared and Draco sipped at his mug of ginger tea. It was supposed to help the almost constant sickness he’d been feeling and he was still putting on weight. What if it was something serious?
Maybe he was being poisoned just like his father - something slow acting that would kill him painfully in the end. Did Voldemort know he was a spy? That he was searching for the repaired Vanishing Cabinet?
A faint pop interrupted his morbid thoughts and he looked round to see Harry standing in the centre of the flat’s single room. It was all he could do not to run into the other man’s arms where he felt safe. But Harry was at his side before he could move and was holding him as if it had been years rather than just five weeks since they’d last met. Then Harry whispered something that Draco had never expected to hear.
“Merlin, I’ve missed you, Draco, so fucking much.”
-*-*-
Draco didn’t move as he was undressed, delighting in the way strong hands moved over his body releasing buttons and bindings before pushing his robes to the floor. Then Harry took a step backwards and stared at him, green eyes jewel bright with desire as they roved over Draco’s naked form. Harry licked his lips expectantly and stripped himself, never taking his eyes off Draco’s face.
He felt his breath hitch as he feasted on Harry’s body. He delighted in how it differed from his own. He was an inch or two taller and more slender, but he loved Harry from his darker colouring to the line of hair that ran down from navel to groin where his hard cock nestled. Merlin, he wanted to touch every inch of skin, take Harry into his mouth and suck the very life out of him.
“Come to bed, Draco.”
Pulling his eyes away from the delicacy that was Harry’s erection, Draco met the green gaze. He tilted his head to one side and with a smile held out his hand. “I thought you’d never ask.”
But Harry didn’t take the hand. Instead he took hold of Draco’s elbow in one hand and the back of his wrist in the other. He kissed the outstretched palm, nuzzling as Draco cupped his cheek, fingers briefly brushing against Harry’s stubbled chin.
Harry moved to Draco’s wrist, sucking at the fast-beating pulse before working his way up the soft pale skin of the inner arm. Draco held his breath as the slick tongue finally reached its goal and he was torn between pulling away and delighting in what he knew was about to happen. Merlin ... Harry was going to touch his Dark Mark!
Eyelids fluttering closed, Draco’s breath came out in a long pent-up groan as the rough tongue lapped over the Mark. It felt dirty and cleansing and, when Harry sucked on it, oh so wrong all at the same time. He felt himself hardening and his legs trembled.
“Potter....”
The licking continued, like a cat enjoying a bowl of cream.
“Potter....”
Harry sucked at the bend of his elbow and Draco knew it would leave a mark.
“Harry.... Please!”
Green eyes looked up and Harry smiled; Draco thought his heart might break. “That’s a first.” He straightened.
“What?”
Hands cupped his face and Draco found his breath catching again as Harry leaned in and kissed it away. “You called me ‘Harry’.” Arms wrapped around him pulling their bodies together, the hard length of Harry’s cock pressing against his own. “It’s always been ‘Potter’ before.” The tip of Harry’s tongue swept over Draco’s mouth.
Draco tried to catch the tongue between his lips, one hand reaching up to cradle Harry’s neck, fingers tugging at black hair. He knew it was a mistake calling Harry by his name, but it had just slipped out. Now he needed to push the name back in its box before he got used to using it.
But Harry was kissing him, playing with his tongue, and Draco never wanted to call him Potter ever again.
He reached between them, hand wrapping around both erections, holding them together, his fingers not quite circling the combined girth of their hard shafts. Harry groaned into the kiss, squirming against Draco’s chest, inflaming the already hard flesh of his nipples.
Shifting his hand a little, Draco squeezed, his thumb brushing over the surface of both heads. He could feel his own precome mixing with Harry’s and he was desperate to taste, but Harry was pushing his belly against his own, trapping their erections and Draco’s hand as he thrust and circled his hips.
Draco followed the hard, fast pace. His cock felt ultra sensitive. The arms wrapping around him tightened, one across his shoulders, the other his waist.
There was no room for him to breathe.
He was light-headed as everything inside him tightened and he knew he was going to come. But he wanted ... needed ... Harry to come with him.
Now ... right now. He sucked hard at Harry’s neck.
Harry came with a shout, spilling over Draco’s hand, mingling with him.
They froze, clung to each other, nothing moving but the fast beating of their hearts.
Slowly, slowly, legs trembling, they pulled apart a little, hips still pressed together. Harry’s face was flushed and his lips red and plump from where Draco had worked at them. He wondered if he looked the same. Aware of the sticky fluid on his hand, he let go and, holding Harry’s gaze, sucked one finger into his mouth with a greedy Mmmm of pleasure.
Harry chuckled. “Are you going to keep all that for yourself?”
Draco released the finger with an appreciative moan and held his hand up to Harry. “Not if you ask nicely.”
-*-*-
It was dark outside when Draco woke; the table lamp provided just enough light to illuminate the room. Rubbing briefly at his eyes with the back of his hand, he scowled at the lamp. How on earth did Muggles put up with the harsh glare of electric lights? It hurt his eyes and he longed for the soft glow of candlelight or a quick Lumos spell.
Outside in the corridor there was a burst of laughter and the sound of two ... no three ... people climbing the stairs. He wondered what the time was; the sun usually set just before nine in the middle of May, so it had to be later than that and he needed to get back to Hogwarts before someone missed him. But Harry was spooning against his back, one hand, the fingers splayed apart, resting on Draco’s abdomen. He would give anything to remain exactly where he was, but Draco knew he’d already have to explain why he wasn’t at dinner in the Great Hall.
And they hadn’t even talked about spying yet.
Suitable scenarios running through his mind, Draco laced his fingers with the ones on his belly and tugged a little. “Are you awake, Potter?”
Harry mumbled something against his neck and, if possible, shifted even closer.
“Is that a yes? Because we need to talk.”
“ ‘K, give me a minute.” Harry wriggled against Draco’s arse before pulling away just a little. But he kept hold of the hand and before Draco could stop him, Harry had shifted back against the pillows until he was half sitting. He pulled Draco to his side. “Have you found the Vanishing Cabinet? Was it still where I moved it?”
Draco let out a huff. Their meeting was turning into everything he didn’t want. First he’d called Harry by his given name and now they were talking about spying without leaving the sex behind. He thought to pull away from Harry’s shoulder but it felt so pleasant to have fingers rubbing small circles across his lower back, the warmth easing what was turning into an almost perpetual backache. As for the Cabinet, Harry had moved it to another location in the Room of Hidden Things after Dumbledore’s death. “Your instructions were rubbish, Potter.”
“I thought it was Harry now?”
“Only when we’re having sex.” Draco shifted a little, one leg bending over Harry’s. “As for the Cabinet, I eventually found it stuck in a corner under a window with a stained glass hippocampus. The window with the Norwegian Ridgeback was on the other side of the room.”
Harry shrugged. “Well, it was a long time ago and Hermione put spells onto it, so perhaps it moved.”
“Now that I’ve found it, what do you want me to do with it?”
“Does it work?”
“The Cabinet? I have no idea and without knowing where its partner is I’m loath to try it out, I don't want to end up trapped inside like Montague. Remember him?”
Harry nodded. “Slytherin Quidditch captain. How can I forget?” He stared at the ceiling for a moment as if trying to decide what to do next. “It’s here.”
“Here?” Draco frowned as he glanced about the room. It contained nothing but the bed, table and a couple of chairs.
“Yeah. It’s through there, in the built-in cupboard.” He pointed to the little dressing room area that lead to the bathroom. “It was where you originally left it.”
“Still at Malfoy Manor?” Draco sat up, the covers sliding off him to bunch up a little over his paunch. The manor had been empty for almost a year now and even he hadn’t been there for a good six months. The house-elves looked after it, keeping it spick and span just in case the lord and lady of the manor should return home. “My father told me he’d got rid of it just in case it could be traced back to the one at Hogwarts.” He scowled; it wouldn’t be the first time Lucius had lied to him. “How did you manage to get in there, let alone remove anything through the protection spells?”
“I didn’t go in. Dobby did.” Harry was grinning.
“The elf you stole from father?” Draco wasn’t sure whether to be angry or amused. Was Harry finally managing to come up with a cunning plan? Or maybe the Sorting Hat had been right and Harry had been mis-Sorted eleven years ago. He’d laughed when Harry had told him about the Hat, scoffing at the very idea of him in Slytherin.
“He was freed, not stolen and the only thing he magicked out was the Cabinet.” Reaching up, Harry twisted a lock of blond hair around his finger and pouted a little. “Are you angry.”
“Of course I am.” Twisting on his knees, Draco straddled Harry’s hips. “Now I’m going to have to rethink all the wards.” He pressed down. “And make sure certain elves are banished.”
Harry groaned. “If you press much harder I’m going to forget my train of thought.” He slid his hands up Draco’s thighs and took hold of his hips. “Can you restore the link between the two Cabinets?”
“I should be able to.” He pushed down, but Harry’s grip held him in place.
“In a minute, Draco, I’m trying to be serious. Just let me finish this first.” Harry shifted. Taking the hint, Draco moved to sit beside him. “The night Professor Dumbledore died. Do you remember what happened to his wand?”
Draco licked his lips, his throat suddenly dry. He’d relived that moment so many times in his dreams. “I used Expelliarmus and the wand went over the ramparts. But you know that - you were there!”
“I know, but I needed to confirm that Dumbledore just didn’t drop it. That you took it from him.”
“But I don’t understand.” Draco grabbed at a pillow, holding it against himself. “What does it matter?” He waited for Harry to respond but he remained silent. “I know - this is one of the things you can’t tell me just in case Voldemort reads my mind.”
“I will explain, Draco, I promise, but I need you to do something for me.” With that Harry scrambled from the bed and rummaged inside the bag he’d brought with him. “I need you to give this to Voldemort.”
Harry held out a wand.
-*-*-
04 - 5th June 2002 - Friend
“Happy birthday, Draco.”
Draco kept his head bowed and didn’t look up. He was on his knees in front of the Dark Lord and one never looked at him directly until invited too. “Thank you, Master.” A skeletal finger touched his chin; the signal for him to look up.
“And how old are you this year?”
Red eyes stared at him and Draco could feel another mind scratching at the edges of his own. He let the right emotions and feelings seep out. Fear and awe worked best, and if he was honest it wasn’t hard to produce both when in the Dark Lord’s presence. “I’m twenty-two, Master.”
“Ah, yes. I remember being that age. I was out in the world searching for my answers.” Voldemort continued to stare for a moment. Draco saw a frown on the man’s face and he struggled to keep his emotions in check. The look disappeared and Voldemort reached for a package on the table next to his chair. He handed it to Draco.
“Thank you.” Draco took it and placed it on the floor in front of him. The Dark Lord always gave presents, but it was expected to give a gift in return. People vied with each other to give the best, the biggest, the most magical, and everyone gathered in the Great Hall would be watching, no doubt expecting Draco to fall flat on his face by giving something inappropriate.
Draco reached into his robes and pulled out a long, slim box, which he held out to the Dark Lord. “I found this...” A murmur went around the room. Found? He waited for the box to be taken and opened. “It was in a room in the undercroft beneath the Astronomy Tower and I found it while showing my fourth year students how to harvest a species of Pisolithus that is known to grow there.” He took a breath. “I believe it is the missing wand of Albus Dumbledore.”
The murmurs turned to gasps. They all knew the Dark Lord had been looking for Dumbledore’s wand since the old wizard had died. That the person who had failed in his task to kill Dumbledore should be the one to find it seemed gratuitous.
Voldemort reached into the box and pulled out the wand. Draco was sure the man’s hand shook just a little as he held up the wand and studied it. “Yes.” The word was a whisper. “Yes, I remember it so well. His wand.” Coming to his feet, the wand box tumbled from his knees to the floor. “After all these years.” He waved Draco away.
“Thank you, Master.” Draco bowed a little and, reaching for the present, shuffled back the required few feet before standing. Voldemort didn’t see the smile that twitched at Draco’s mouth, the Dark Lord was too busy with his new toy.
-*-*-
Draco read the chapter for what seemed like the thousandth time and finally decided he could no longer deny it.
Somehow he was pregnant.
The book was quite clear. He had all the symptoms, including the most obvious. A hand drifted down to his swollen belly. Still convinced he was being poisoned in some way he’d taken to wearing loose-fitting robes a couple of weeks ago. But now it was clear there was no poison involved - just sex at the right time and with someone whose magic mirrored his own.
He realised his hands were shaking just a little and he knew it was shock. How in Salazar’s name could this happen to him of all people? He traced a sentence in the book again, While such occurrences are rare; the magic of two people of the same gender can combine to produce new life. Timing is important because the power of the magic increases with certain celestial activity, such as planetary alignments.
Pulling another book towards him he ran a finger over the listings. Yes, there had been a rare grand conjunction at the previous New Year, in which Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, Venus and Mercury had all been visible shortly after sunset. And where had he been at that moment this conjunction had reached its zenith?
Being well and truly fucked by Harry Potter, that was where.
With a groan he rested his forehead on the desk, rapping his forehead on the wood a couple of times for good measure. That would make him about twenty-two weeks ... just over five months ... gone. Which meant in sixteen weeks he would become a father. Or a mother. Or was it both?
Head still resting on the desk, he reached his hands to cradle his belly. Could there really be a baby in there? Sitting up, he pushed aside his robes, pulled his shirt out of his trousers and stared down at the smooth roundness that Harry had once called his little beer belly. Gingerly he touched, fingers curling to cup his abdomen.
What the hell was he going to do?
“Draco.”
He grabbed at his clothing, desperately trying to rearrange himself at the unexpected intrusion. “Mother.”
“I though I would find out what the Dark Lord gave you.” Narcissa touched the parcel left unwrapped on a shelf before crossing the room to Draco’s desk as he was attempted to hide the books. She turned one round and scanned the page before looking at her son. “I’ve been wondering when you would realise.”
-*-*-
Narcissa Malfoy had done many things for her husband. Some she did because she though they were right, some because he asked and others because he demanded. She understood what family meant, especially pure-blood family, and only ever wanted what she thought was best for her husband and son.
Looking back now with the hindsight of Lucius’ death, she did wonder if all her decisions had been the right ones. On the day she’d lost her husband, the Dark Lord had made her his hetaera. She slept with him to keep her son safe but never told anyone, especially not Draco, what the Dark Lord expected of her. Her sister, Bella, hated her because she wanted to be the one in Voldemort’s bed. Narcissa would gladly exchange her position if she could.
One day, she’d long ago decided, she would slit the man’s throat while he slept - if only she could smuggle a knife into the bedchamber.
Now sitting in her son’s chambers, she looked down at his blond head that rested on her shoulder and knew that once again she had to be strong for him.
She stroked his hair. “Before you were born I went to Diagon Alley to buy some baby clothes. A fortune teller stopped me and said that for a Sickle she would tell me what sex my child would be. I tried to shoo her away but she kept following me so in the end I gave her the Sickle. She held a crystal on a chain over my stomach and I waited for her pronouncement, but it never came. Instead she gasped, sank to her knees and kissed my hand. ‘You carry a Begietan, my mistress, and he will bless you.’ With that she gave me the Sickle back and left. Who would have thought she would be right?”
Draco frowned. Of course he’d heard the term before, but there were supposed to be signs as the child grew up. With him there had been nothing. “I didn’t know. If I had I might have seen the signs.”
“And I didn’t believe the fortune teller. It’s been a very long time since there was a Begietan in my family and even longer since the Malfoys had one. Babies born to a Begietan are considered great treasures, they are thought to be extremely gifted and are often seers and oracles. Can you tell me who the father is?” She felt Draco’s head shake under her hand. “That is, of course, your wish. Will he stand by you?” A shrug. “You haven’t told him?”
“No, not yet. I only really found out today.”
“Really? But you must have known.” Her hand briefly touched his stomach.
Draco gave a little snort of derision. “I thought I was being poisoned. That it might be a tumour or something.”
“Oh, my poor boy.” She hugged him closer. Draco was most definitely pregnant; the spell she’d done earlier confirmed that. “What are you going to do?”
“Do?” Draco finally looked up at her and she realised just how tired and fragile he'd become.
“You can’t stay here, at least not as a teacher. You need to rest and get your strength back.”
“But I have to stay.”
“No,” Narcissa was adamant. “You need to see a Healer first and then rest. If the father isn’t going to look after you then I will.” She looked thoughtfully into the distance. “Perhaps you could stay with the Mereddiths. I went to Hogwarts with Augustine and we’ve stayed close ever since. Her family are from the old traditions in Wales and her great grandfather was a Begietan.”
“Mother, I can’t go.” Draco finally pulled away and sat up. He took a deep breath. “The father is Harry Potter and I’m spying for him.”
And with that he told her almost everything.
-*-*-
Hours later, Narcissa made her way back to her rooms. Voldemort would probably call for her soon and she needed to be there. For the first time in months her step was sure. Draco needed her help; he needed to know what spells protected the Dark Lord.
Finally, she had a way of revenging Lucius’ death. Finally!
-*-*-
05 - 28th June 2002 - Partner
Harry was worried. He had lots of things to be worried about, but at the moment it was Draco Malfoy who was on his mind.
Sitting in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place he chewed absently on his fingernail and stared into the fireplace. Something was very wrong with Draco but he just couldn’t place exactly what it was. Yesterday was the first time they hadn’t had sex in over a year, but more importantly it was like the last two years had never happened. Draco had been sitting at the table when Harry had arrived and never moved away from it and he’d been dressed in voluminous robes even though it had been a hot June day. He’d been aloof and brusque as they’d talked, only seeming to be interested in getting through the meeting as quickly as possible.
He let out a huff of frustration. It had been a good meeting. Draco had not only managed to give Voldemort the wand but had also managed to find out several of the wards the Dark Lord was using to protect himself. Each little bit of information he found out about Voldemort brought him a step closer to beating the man at his own game. To do that he’d been trying to put himself into Voldemort’s mindset for months now, wanting to work out just what the man’s strengths and weaknesses were.
And now his plans were finally coming to fruition. The parts were all there and he just needed to gather the threads and pull them together. But instead of worrying about his plans, his focus had turned to the one person he’d never thought he would give a damn for.
Aware of the beginnings of a headache, he pushed his glasses up and squeezed the bridge of his nose. In his minds eye he could picture Draco clearly as he’d got to his feet and turned away from him, the dark robes flowing about him. There was something that kept playing on his mind.
The sound of footsteps interrupted his thoughts and he looked up to see Charlie Weasley all but waddle into the kitchen. He sat down with a grateful sigh and closed his eyes.
“Morning, Harry. My ankles feel like they’re the size of tree trunks.”
Harry grinned. Charlie was eight months pregnant and he’d never even realised it was possible for a wizard to have a child until Charlie had shown up with his Rumanian partner. Molly had fainted at the news. “Do you want tea?” He got to his feet.
“Harry, you are an angel.” Charlie lifted his feet onto a chair and gave a relieved sigh.
Finding the pot, Harry began making the tea. He was just spooning the tea leaves into the pot when it suddenly hit him. His comments to Draco about putting on weight back at Easter, his even more rounded belly in May and how he’d wanted to touch it. Then the way Draco’s robes had billowed about him, moulding briefly to him.
Realisation dawned. Was it possible Draco was pregnant?
“Harry! Watch it!”
“What?” Dragged from his thoughts, Harry turned to Charlie.
“You’re pouring water all over the floor. Mum’ll kill you.”
He looked down at floor. The water from the kettle had formed a puddle around his feet and the bottom of his jeans was wet. “Bugger! Sorry!” Putting the kettle down, he grabbed for a cloth and crouched down, still muttering under his breath. But as he started to wipe up the spill, the water suddenly disappeared and he could hear Charlie chuckling.
“Forgetting you’re a wizard again?”
Harry harrumphed. Sometimes when his mind was fixed on other things he would go into what Ron called ‘Muggle Mode’. Bunching the cloth in his hands he stood up and shrugged his shoulders. The kettle he’d emptied was already boiling again and he set about making the promised tea.
“Is something wrong? You’re clearly distracted.”
He raised an eyebrow. Wrong? Confused would be a better term. Putting the mugs on the table, he sat down again. “Um, when did you realise you were having a baby?” He felt heat rise in his cheeks and he gave an embarrassed laugh.
“Me?” Charlie laughed. “When Stefan told me I was putting on weight.” He started ladling sugar into his mug. “Why? You don’t think you’re pregnant do you? I didn’t even know you were with anyone.”
“No ... no, it’s not me. I....” Harry shrugged. “It’s just you’re the only man I’ve ever known with a baby.” He fiddled with his mug. “How do you ... how does it....” He gesticulated with his hand.
“Get out?” Charlie smiled at him kindly and Harry knew he was going red. “Same way it got in - with magic. My Healer said it’s a bit like Apparition. But it depends on how magically strong the parents are; that’s why Stefan will be with me when it’s time.”
“Oh ... right ... um. And if he couldn’t be there?”
“Then they’d do an operation - a bit like Muggles do. Harry, are you okay? You’ve gone as white as a ghost.”
“There’s something.... Sorry, Charlie, I’ve got to sort something out.”
Harry took the stairs to his bedroom two at a time, hauling himself upwards with the help of the banister. Once in the room he closed the door, sealing it with a quick spell and leaned back against it. He reached into a pocket of his jeans and pulled out a gold Galleon, one of the ones Hermione had magicked back in his fifth year for use by members of Dumbledore’s Army. Draco had his own coin, linked to the one Harry had and if either sent a message they would sense the magical signature. It was such simple magic really, so simple that no one bothered with it. Even if the coin were accidentally passed onto a new owner they’d probably just pocket it.
He ran his thumb over the surface. There was nothing, not even a hint of magic and he berated himself for thinking that Draco would suddenly send a message saying ‘Oh by the way, I’m pregnant and you’re the father’. After all, he hadn’t even heard from Draco in weeks.
He kicked the door with his heel. “Dammit, Draco. Where are you!?”
An idea suddenly struck him. Shoving the coin back in his pocket, he strode across the room and knelt down beside the bed. He removed the wards from a floorboard and lifted it free. Inside the hole was the small drawstring moleskin pouch that Hagrid had given him for his seventeenth birthday. Quickly he pulled out what he was looking for, a large piece of very worn parchment; The Marauder’s Map. He tapped it with his wand and intoned, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”
Lines spread across the surface like fractures on a sheet of ice, recreating every detail of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He scanned it, studying all the little moving dots that represented people and it took him a moment to find the one that was Draco Malfoy. The man was in one of the dungeon classrooms and by the look of the cluster of other dots in the room, he was teaching a class.
Well, at least Draco was alive. Now all Harry needed to do was get a message to him.
He was just about to put the map down when he noticed a small dot hovering close to Draco’s mark. At first he thought it was a speck of dirt, but it didn’t scrape away when he rubbed at it. Then he realised it was moving with Draco and that there was tiny, almost invisible, writing next to it. Holding the parchment closer, he tried to make out what it said, but it still wasn’t clear. Quickly he got to his feet and scrabbled in a drawer for a magnifying glass.
Finding it, he focused it on the writing and let out a gasp. It read ‘and Son’.
-*-*-
06 - 5th July 2002 - Father
Draco had never been good at masque spells because he hadn’t needed to use one until now. He remembered trying one when he’d been about fifteen and had woken one morning with several rather nasty spots on his face. Millicent has suggested a healing spell, but Pansy had claimed that might leave a scar. She’d taught him how to cover them with a magical illusion, which had worked well. Until, that was, the spell had ended early and he’d been left in the middle of Herbology with his spots and several sniggering Gryffindors.
But at twenty-six weeks, billowing robes no longer hid his condition despite the fact Narcissa kept telling him he was lucky because he was carrying the child low on his hips. When she was carrying him, he stuck out so far that she couldn’t have hidden him even if she’d wanted to.
It had been his mother who’d suggested the masque spell; Draco couldn’t continue teaching and hide the fact he was going to have a baby. They had spent many hours perfecting the spell to create the illusion and now Draco managed to produce it each morning without any problems.
Draco stood now in the safe house, waiting for Harry and wondered if he was doing the right thing. He was sure what Harry’s reaction would be to his impending fatherhood. Harry would stare at him, mouth open in stunned silence, and then as it sank in, Harry would become the protective Gryffindor. He’d make Draco sit down and ask about putting Draco’s feet up and making him tea. Then Harry would realise that he was sending the father - or was that mother - of his unborn child back into danger; he would demand that Draco stay with him even though he needed Draco to be at Hogwarts.
He rested his hands on his belly. The masque spell always made touching himself feel strange, as if he was reaching through fog. His mother had told him that the spell worked as much on the mind as the body and because he knew the truth he only experienced a partial sensation. Harry wouldn’t notice anything unusual, at least not until they touched.
No, Draco knew that either he hid behind the table again or he tell Harry the truth. The fact was he wanted Harry to know even if the other man’s reaction was one of disbelief and horror.
He didn’t turn at the soft pop of Apparition or at the silence that followed. It was only when Harry’s hands rested on his shoulders that he looked round.
“Hello, Draco,” Harry’s voice was a whisper as he reached out to brush blond hair from Draco’s face and kissed his neck.
Draco sighed at the touch. Closing his eyes he intoned the masque counter-spell, feeling it dissipate. Nervously he turned. “Hello, Harry.” He’d visualised several reactions to his swollen belly, but not the one he got.
Harry’s eyes were bright as if he was going to cry. Lifting both his hands to Draco’s face, he kissed him gently. Then carefully, he placed the tips of his fingers on Draco’s abdomen as if he was touching something precious, his expression one of awe. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You know?” Draco’s mouth went dry. “How do you know?”
“Can I touch you?”
“What?”
“Do you mind ... can I touch you?”
“I....” Draco took a breath to try and stop the emotion he could feel welling inside him. “Of course I don’t mind,” he whispered, unable to take his eyes of Harry.
Fingertips splayed until Harry’s palm was flat on Draco’s stomach. “Is he ... I know, um, I know he is ... but, I need....” He took a shuddering breath. “Is he mine?”
Any umbrage that Draco might have taken at the question was lost as he realised Harry had said ‘is he mine’. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out and all he could do was nod.
Harry sank to his knees, both hands now cradling Draco. Softly he whispered, “Hello, Baby,” before resting his cheek against Draco’s stomach.
Tears rolled down Harry’s cheeks. Draco reached out to comfort him, but realised he was crying too.
-*-*-
Later they lay in bed. For once Draco was on his back with Harry’s head resting on his chest. He looked down at the dark head, fingers playing with the black hair while Harry seemed content to rest his hand over Draco’s navel.
They had made love, Harry fucking Draco gently. Draco had kept telling him that he wasn’t a fragile flower - that Harry could still pound him into the bed and make him come as if it was the end of the world. But Harry kept his pace slow and measured. He let Draco come first and it was an orgasm like he’d never experienced before; it felt like he was ice and Harry fire ... like he was melting.
Then it was Harry’s turn. Draco squeezed around the hard cock inside him and this time he was the fire. He tipped Harry over the edge and let Harry fall into his orgasm from a great height.
He carded his fingers through Harry’s hair, which was still damp from their lovemaking. “Harry, why did you say ‘he’ when you were talking about the baby?”
Harry moved a little until his head was nestled on Draco’s shoulder and looked up. “The Map.”
“What map?”
“The one I told you about - the one my dad helped make of Hogwarts.” Harry quickly told him about Charlie and how it had suddenly dawned on him that Draco might be pregnant as well. “But I couldn’t contact you, so I checked the Map to see if I could find you. There was another little dot next to you and the label on it said ‘and Son’ ... Draco Malfoy and Son.” He stroked Draco’s abdomen.
“And you believe everything this map says?”
“Well, it’s always been right before.” Harry kissed Draco’s chin. “When's he due?”
“The beginning of October ... another twelve weeks.”
They fell into a companionable silence and Draco wondered what it would be like to wake up every morning with Harry at his side and to go to sleep with him there as well? One day it would happen. He snuggled down a little and made himself more comfortable.
“Does it hurt?”
“Being the size of a Halloween pumpkin? No, not unless you count the backache, swollen ankles, morning sickness and constantly needing to pee.”
“Oh, right.”
Draco felt a warm hand press against the small of his back.
“I can rub your back.”
“And massage my ankles?”
“If you want me to.” Harry chuckled and then became serious. “You can’t go back. It’s not safe.”
Draco had expected the comment - typical Gryffindor chivalry. He wasn’t going to argue. “The Vanishing Cabinet isn’t working properly yet.”
“So?”
“And we still don’t know all the wards Voldemort's using. My source won’t work with anyone else.” “Who is it, Draco?”
“I can’t tell you, anymore than you can tell me your plans.” Draco pushed himself up on his elbow and looked down at Harry. “You’re so close, Harry, and we can’t let this stop us now. I want our baby to grow up in a world without Voldemort.”
“But....”
“How long before you can do what you’re planning?”
“I can’t do it yet.” Harry took a deep breath. “And I can’t say anymore because I’ve spent the last two years getting to this point and if he gets into your mind then it could all be over. That’s why I don’t want you to go back.”
Draco huffed, he knew it was true but what really annoyed him was the idea that Harry thought he couldn’t deal with Voldemort. Hadn’t he been doing that for more years then he cared to think about? “If it’s that important then we have to see this through. All the students will be leaving for the summer in a few days so it will be easier to get around the castle without raising suspicion. I can get the Cabinet prepared and get my source to finish their research, then I’ll leave.” His mind began running through possibilities. He’d have to get his mother out as well. “Give me to the end of the month.”
“The end of the month?”
He grinned. “Look on it as my birthday present to you.”
-*-*-
Part 2
Recipient: khateh
Title: Never the Same Again (Part 1 of 3)
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, mention of Ron/Hermione
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The war is over ... in fact it never really got started because the Dark Lord proved to be the more powerful. Now five years after Dumbledore's death, Draco Malfoy has something else to worry about besides being a spy.
Warnings: Mpreg *laughs*. Almost canon-compliant to the end of Half-Blood Prince and then takes great liberties with bits and pieces from Deathly Hallows. Both Harry and Draco are over 18.
Total word count: 22,000
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's notes: khateh asked for AU: I'd like a post-Hogwarts fic, with the war still going on. I hope this pushes some of your buttons. Grateful thanks to my beta empathic_siren , who was more helpful than I can say. Any remaining mistakes are down to me.
Never the Same Again Part 1 of 3
-*-*-
Whether your pregnancy was meticulously planned, medically coaxed, or happened by surprise, one thing is certain - your life will never be the same again
-- Catherine Jones - Eating for Pregnancy
-*-*-
01 - 31st March 2002 - Spy
Draco Malfoy’s eyes were closed.
He used to think that he needed to see everything, but recently he’d realised that to feel was just as exquisite. And right now he could feel Harry Potter’s fingers sliding over his skin. Feather-light touches interspersed with the scratch of a sharp nail and the pinch of fingertips. Then there was warm breath and wet kisses that made him tremble and moan.
They were both calmer now. Not as needy as earlier - not as desperate. Draco had been waiting for Harry and had all but pounced on him the moment he’d Apparated into the room. Harry had been just as eager. They hadn’t even bothered to undress completely as they’d groped and fondled until Harry was in him, pounding and moaning as Draco had writhed beneath him.
After they had come down from the euphoria of what always felt like the first time, Draco let Harry undress him. He loved the way those hands worked at the buttons of his shirt, fumbling just a little, like he was being worshipped by the touch. He lay back, letting Harry kiss his lips until they were red and ravished before turning his attention to the rest of Draco’s body. His nipples ached from the way Harry had lapped and nibbled at them until they were hard, sensitive nubs. Harry’s tongue was now in his navel and Draco could feel himself getting harder with each press, as if the little hole was connected directly to his cock.
He thought about looking, to see that dark head bobbing over his abdomen, but that would take away from the sensation of feeling. Instead he reached out blindly until his fingers caught into Harry’s messy hair. He tugged affectionately, his fingers pushing and carding through.
Harry’s mouth fixed onto Draco’s navel. The resultant groan Harry gave vibrated through his belly, making him squirm with delight. Salazar, he loved that being with Harry meant he could let go. Harry made him forget his problems and difficulties.
Harry made him feel.
“You’re putting on weight.”
The emotional bubble broke and Draco’s eyes snapped open, his fingers tightening in the black hair as he glared down at Harry.
“What?”
“Weight.” Harry’s hand rested on Draco’s abdomen and he wiggled it. “You’re getting a little beer belly.” He gave it a kiss. “It’s so sweet.”
Draco scowled petulantly and was just about to disagree indignantly. But Harry’s hand had curled around his erection, giving it a squeeze before taking it into his mouth. Any argument over his weight was forgotten somewhere between Draco’s brain and the head of his cock which was being expertly worked by Harry’s all-too skilful tongue.
He groaned almost pitifully as that tongue poked into the slit of his cock, gathering precome as Harry fisted him and then squeezed his ballsac. He adored Harry going down on him, the man knew exactly how to press every one of Draco’s buttons. He held his breath as the hot heat that was Harry’s mouth surrounded his cock.
Who would have thought after what had happened on top of the Astronomy Tower five years ago that he’d end up with Harry Potter?
Draco came with a cry, knowing that Harry would swallow every drop as if it was ambrosia.
-*-*-
“Do you want tea or coffee?”
Draco glanced away from the mirror, lips quirking into a small smile. Harry, freshly showered and dressed with only a towel around his hips, was in the little kitchen, tea caddy in one hand and coffee grinder in the other.
“It’s afternoon, Potter. What do you think?” He never called Harry by his given name, it was too dangerous to get used to saying it out loud. But the man was always ‘Harry’ in his mind - Harry with his green eyes and messy hair and body to die for.
“Tea then.” Harry grinned as he shook the caddy. “I’d make cucumber sandwiches but I’m right out of cucumbers at the moment. But I do have chocolate - it’s Easter after all.”
“Chocolate would be good, especially if it’s a slab of Honeyduke’s Orange and Chilli. Assuming you can get it through the embargo, of course.” Draco licked his lips appreciatively at the memory of his last bar.
Ambrosius Flume, the owner of Honeyduke’s, and his wife were just two of the many people who’d managed to flee British shores before Voldemort had shut down the borders. It was now almost impossible for any magical person to get out of the country or back in from continental Europe without the necessary paperwork. The Dark Lord had promised not to invade as long as worldwide wizarding community left him and Britain alone. Unfortunately they expected Voldemort to keep his word, which Draco knew he had no intention of doing.
He turned back to the mirror and stared at his profile in the glass. Maybe chocolate wasn’t such a good idea because Harry was right; he had put on a bit of weight. He ran a hand over the slight swell of his abdomen. It couldn’t be that he was eating too much; the food served by Voldemort’s house-elves was always too rich for him and he only ever picked at it. Plus he liked to know exactly where his food had come from; it was all too easy to lace it with potions otherwise. That’s how they’d killed his father - poison in a whortleberry soufflé. Draco had no idea who ‘they’ were, but he suspected it was on Voldemort’s orders. Lucius had been whispering subversive thoughts.
As for exercise, he got plenty of that, running on nervous energy all the time.
Draco peered closer at his mirror image, noting the dark smudges under his eyes. He had trouble sleeping these days as well and blamed it on the stress of his double life - Supporter of Voldemort on the one hand and Spy for Harry Potter on the other. One day his mask would slip and Voldemort would find out. It would only get worse the longer the war went on.
Five years since that fateful night on top of the Astronomy Tower when Dumbledore had told him that killing wasn’t nearly as easy as the innocent believe.
Four years since Voldemort had finally captured Hogwarts and with it the rest of the wizarding Britain.
Three years since the Dark Lord had used his birthday address to name himself Lord High Chancellor of Magic. The Minister would be appointed by and answerable to him and him alone.
Two years since Draco had finally realised Voldemort was a madman and gone to Harry with an offer of spying for him. His father’s death had been the final straw.
One year since they’d first fallen into bed together.
Six months since he’d realised he was in love with Harry Potter.
Draco rubbed absently at his stomach. He’d kept that hidden, along with Harry’s given name. While he was a very accomplished Occlumens, hiding strong emotions was hard and Voldemort enjoyed delving into people’s minds, watching them squirm as he found out their most private secrets and desires.
“Sickle for them.”
Draco could feel Harry’s warmth at his back and knew he was close. But they never touched after sex, not even a goodbye kiss ... especially not a goodbye kiss. They had compartmentalised their lives the day after they’d first fucked. Sex and touching and holding were fine, but the moment it ended and they got up to shower, they became Spy and Spymaster.
But now all he wanted to do was to lean back against Harry’s body and feel skin on skin, those arms wrapped around him.
He took a step forward, away from the warmth, and turned to face Harry. “Is that all my thoughts are worth these days?” He swallowed. Salazar, it would be so easy to reach out and touch Harry’s cheek - push his fingers into the towel-dried hair - pull him forward - kiss those lips.
Instead Draco grabbed his robe and wrapped it around himself. “I need to get back before someone misses me.” He walked away towards the little table and reached for the teapot Harry had placed there. “We’ve got lots to discuss.”
-*-*-
02 - 1st April 2002 - Professor
The Daily Prophet
Victory Week Celebrations opened by Lord Voldemort
Excited crowds lined the streets yesterday for the Third Victory in Britain parade, the inaugural event in a week-long celebration of the Battle of Hogwarts. People waved flags and cheered as those taking part in the pageant wended their way through the streets around Diagon Alley before reaching the Park of Reconciliation where a free picnic and concert were due to take place. The highlight of the day was the presentation of the Order of Merlin Principartus to Lord Voldemort, who accepted this accolade with his normal humility before declaring the festivities well and truly open. Afterwards people disposed of Muggle items they had found in their homes as part of the drive to remove all things non-magical from our world.
“Hello, Professor Malfoy.”
Looking up from his copy of the Daily Prophet, Draco tried to remember the name of the second year student as she ran past him. He had become the Potions teacher at Hogwarts the previous September. She neither excelled or failed and, thus, was in the group of children who were a blur. It was Abigail or Amelia and he thought her father was a minor official in the Ministry - something to do with marketing. She disappeared around a corner before he had chance to respond.
He glanced at the Prophet again and wondered what life would be like for Abigail when she left Hogwarts. The image of Voldemort waved at the crowds, but if he looked closely, Draco was sure some of the people thronging about the Dark Lord looked anything but happy.
Discord in the populace was growing even with the propaganda the Ministry foisted on everyone. He studied a sidebar story in which it was claimed Harry Potter had fled the country and was hiding abroad. Similar claims were made at least once a week in which Harry was either dead, dying or running scared.
Of course Draco knew the truth and that made him smile.
-*-*-
Severus Snape sat behind the huge claw-footed desk in the headmaster’s office. In front of him the stack of paperwork never seemed to decrease and he longed for the womb-like security of the Slytherin dungeons and his own private quarters. Unfortunately, as titular head of Hogwarts, he was expected to reside in much more public rooms.
The real headmaster was, of course, the Dark Lord. Voldemort was the one Severus had to defer to in almost everything, but in the three and a half years he’d held the post, he had kept faith with his promise to Albus Dumbledore to protect all the students as best he could. It hadn’t been easy; Voldemort wanted the students to be well versed in the Dark Arts, no doubt suitable fodder for his future campaigns against Europe and the rest of the world.
He picked up the latest list of those given detentions, the names on it all too familiar. Euan Abercrombie would be lucky to survive to his N.E.W.Ts the way he was going and the same was true of Rose Zetter. How that girl was ever Sorted into Hufflepuff, he had no idea.
Not that there were Houses at Hogwarts any longer. The Dark Lord had banned them two years ago and now everyone was in Slytherin, divided into groups according to their talents. Severus gave a bitter bark of a laugh. Houses by any other name.
He wondered when the British wizarding community would rise up in righteous indignation against their oppressor, but the problem was the Dark Lord had their children. Tagged and magically measured almost before they’d taken their first breaths. He had children as young as five at Hogwarts now - teaching them to be good little wizards and witches.
No, they needed someone to follow and they whispered his name in dark corners. Harry Potter was still the Chosen One even if he was taking his time in dealing with Voldemort.
A knock on the door disturbed his thoughts and he quickly checked the small Foe-Glass hidden in the top drawer of the desk. It never hurt to know who was visiting him. Standing on the other side of the oak door was Draco Malfoy.
Severus pointed his wand at the door and it swung open. “Come in, Mr Malfoy.”
The young man walked across the circular room, stopping before the desk. “Headmaster.” He gave a nod of greeting. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“Of course not. I trust you enjoyed yesterday’s festivities.”
Grey eyes looked at him. “More than you can imagine.”
Severus’ lip twitched a little; he knew exactly where Draco had spent his day and it hadn’t been picnicking in the park. He had been there the night Draco had found out about Lucius’ death and had spent many hours stopping Draco from trying to immediately avenge his father’s death. It was not, he told his one-time student, the time or the place to take on the Dark Lord. Over the course of those hours Severus had finally told Draco about his role in Dumbledore’s (and now Potter’s) Order and had suggested there were other ways to take his retribution. He suggested that Draco become a spy for the Order.
The hard part had been getting Potter to agree.
Severus gestured towards a chair and waited for Draco to sit down. The young man looked tired as he reached into a pocket and pulled out several sheets of parchment. He was aware of several portraits suddenly paying attention and reminded himself that at Hogwarts the wall did, indeed, have ears.
And eyes.
Draco cleared his throat, coughing into his hand, then placed the parchments on the desk. “I’ve been trying to sort out my O.W.L. revision work and I wanted to check whether I’m on the right track.”
With a nod, Severus took the parchments, glancing at the first sheet. It was, as Draco had said, a revision schedule. As he read through it, he intoned wordlessly Legilimens, knowing that if there was something Draco wanted him to know, he would be able to read it in the other’s mind.
Thoughts swirled and there was a brief tantalizing glimpse of bare flesh. It disappeared and in its place were thoughts of Potter finally planning something; Potter wanting to smuggle people into the castle; Potter wanting to know what spells guarded the Dark Lord and whether there were ways around them.
Heartbeat rising just a little, he continued focusing on the parchments. Could Potter really have found a way to defeat Voldemort? He looked at Draco. “I think this needs some alterations, but you are working in the right direction. Perhaps some tea.”
Severus cringed. He was beginning to sound like Dumbledore.
-*-*-
03 - 15th May 2002 - Lover
When Draco had first offered to become a spy for the Order he’d laid down certain conditions, one of which was that no one except himself, Harry and Severus would know. He didn’t want to risk one of Harry’s friends blurting out the truth during some drunken evening in The Leaky Cauldron. Draco was reasonably sure Harry had told Granger and Weasley - the Trinity were rumoured to be inseparable and shared everything. Granger and Weasley were supposed to be an item and it wouldn’t surprise Draco to find out that Harry was part of that item as well.
Expect that when they were together Draco felt that he and Harry belonged, like two pieces of a puzzle that slotted perfectly even if the edges were just a little worn from everything that had happened to them both.
He stood now in Harry’s safe house, staring out the window at the garden where a pair of squirrels chased each other around an oak tree. The tiny Muggle flat was somewhere in the South of England, but apart from that Draco had no idea of the exact location. All he knew was how to Apparate there and how to get through Harry’s Fidelius Charm and the other wards.
Outside the squirrels disappeared and Draco sipped at his mug of ginger tea. It was supposed to help the almost constant sickness he’d been feeling and he was still putting on weight. What if it was something serious?
Maybe he was being poisoned just like his father - something slow acting that would kill him painfully in the end. Did Voldemort know he was a spy? That he was searching for the repaired Vanishing Cabinet?
A faint pop interrupted his morbid thoughts and he looked round to see Harry standing in the centre of the flat’s single room. It was all he could do not to run into the other man’s arms where he felt safe. But Harry was at his side before he could move and was holding him as if it had been years rather than just five weeks since they’d last met. Then Harry whispered something that Draco had never expected to hear.
“Merlin, I’ve missed you, Draco, so fucking much.”
-*-*-
Draco didn’t move as he was undressed, delighting in the way strong hands moved over his body releasing buttons and bindings before pushing his robes to the floor. Then Harry took a step backwards and stared at him, green eyes jewel bright with desire as they roved over Draco’s naked form. Harry licked his lips expectantly and stripped himself, never taking his eyes off Draco’s face.
He felt his breath hitch as he feasted on Harry’s body. He delighted in how it differed from his own. He was an inch or two taller and more slender, but he loved Harry from his darker colouring to the line of hair that ran down from navel to groin where his hard cock nestled. Merlin, he wanted to touch every inch of skin, take Harry into his mouth and suck the very life out of him.
“Come to bed, Draco.”
Pulling his eyes away from the delicacy that was Harry’s erection, Draco met the green gaze. He tilted his head to one side and with a smile held out his hand. “I thought you’d never ask.”
But Harry didn’t take the hand. Instead he took hold of Draco’s elbow in one hand and the back of his wrist in the other. He kissed the outstretched palm, nuzzling as Draco cupped his cheek, fingers briefly brushing against Harry’s stubbled chin.
Harry moved to Draco’s wrist, sucking at the fast-beating pulse before working his way up the soft pale skin of the inner arm. Draco held his breath as the slick tongue finally reached its goal and he was torn between pulling away and delighting in what he knew was about to happen. Merlin ... Harry was going to touch his Dark Mark!
Eyelids fluttering closed, Draco’s breath came out in a long pent-up groan as the rough tongue lapped over the Mark. It felt dirty and cleansing and, when Harry sucked on it, oh so wrong all at the same time. He felt himself hardening and his legs trembled.
“Potter....”
The licking continued, like a cat enjoying a bowl of cream.
“Potter....”
Harry sucked at the bend of his elbow and Draco knew it would leave a mark.
“Harry.... Please!”
Green eyes looked up and Harry smiled; Draco thought his heart might break. “That’s a first.” He straightened.
“What?”
Hands cupped his face and Draco found his breath catching again as Harry leaned in and kissed it away. “You called me ‘Harry’.” Arms wrapped around him pulling their bodies together, the hard length of Harry’s cock pressing against his own. “It’s always been ‘Potter’ before.” The tip of Harry’s tongue swept over Draco’s mouth.
Draco tried to catch the tongue between his lips, one hand reaching up to cradle Harry’s neck, fingers tugging at black hair. He knew it was a mistake calling Harry by his name, but it had just slipped out. Now he needed to push the name back in its box before he got used to using it.
But Harry was kissing him, playing with his tongue, and Draco never wanted to call him Potter ever again.
He reached between them, hand wrapping around both erections, holding them together, his fingers not quite circling the combined girth of their hard shafts. Harry groaned into the kiss, squirming against Draco’s chest, inflaming the already hard flesh of his nipples.
Shifting his hand a little, Draco squeezed, his thumb brushing over the surface of both heads. He could feel his own precome mixing with Harry’s and he was desperate to taste, but Harry was pushing his belly against his own, trapping their erections and Draco’s hand as he thrust and circled his hips.
Draco followed the hard, fast pace. His cock felt ultra sensitive. The arms wrapping around him tightened, one across his shoulders, the other his waist.
There was no room for him to breathe.
He was light-headed as everything inside him tightened and he knew he was going to come. But he wanted ... needed ... Harry to come with him.
Now ... right now. He sucked hard at Harry’s neck.
Harry came with a shout, spilling over Draco’s hand, mingling with him.
They froze, clung to each other, nothing moving but the fast beating of their hearts.
Slowly, slowly, legs trembling, they pulled apart a little, hips still pressed together. Harry’s face was flushed and his lips red and plump from where Draco had worked at them. He wondered if he looked the same. Aware of the sticky fluid on his hand, he let go and, holding Harry’s gaze, sucked one finger into his mouth with a greedy Mmmm of pleasure.
Harry chuckled. “Are you going to keep all that for yourself?”
Draco released the finger with an appreciative moan and held his hand up to Harry. “Not if you ask nicely.”
-*-*-
It was dark outside when Draco woke; the table lamp provided just enough light to illuminate the room. Rubbing briefly at his eyes with the back of his hand, he scowled at the lamp. How on earth did Muggles put up with the harsh glare of electric lights? It hurt his eyes and he longed for the soft glow of candlelight or a quick Lumos spell.
Outside in the corridor there was a burst of laughter and the sound of two ... no three ... people climbing the stairs. He wondered what the time was; the sun usually set just before nine in the middle of May, so it had to be later than that and he needed to get back to Hogwarts before someone missed him. But Harry was spooning against his back, one hand, the fingers splayed apart, resting on Draco’s abdomen. He would give anything to remain exactly where he was, but Draco knew he’d already have to explain why he wasn’t at dinner in the Great Hall.
And they hadn’t even talked about spying yet.
Suitable scenarios running through his mind, Draco laced his fingers with the ones on his belly and tugged a little. “Are you awake, Potter?”
Harry mumbled something against his neck and, if possible, shifted even closer.
“Is that a yes? Because we need to talk.”
“ ‘K, give me a minute.” Harry wriggled against Draco’s arse before pulling away just a little. But he kept hold of the hand and before Draco could stop him, Harry had shifted back against the pillows until he was half sitting. He pulled Draco to his side. “Have you found the Vanishing Cabinet? Was it still where I moved it?”
Draco let out a huff. Their meeting was turning into everything he didn’t want. First he’d called Harry by his given name and now they were talking about spying without leaving the sex behind. He thought to pull away from Harry’s shoulder but it felt so pleasant to have fingers rubbing small circles across his lower back, the warmth easing what was turning into an almost perpetual backache. As for the Cabinet, Harry had moved it to another location in the Room of Hidden Things after Dumbledore’s death. “Your instructions were rubbish, Potter.”
“I thought it was Harry now?”
“Only when we’re having sex.” Draco shifted a little, one leg bending over Harry’s. “As for the Cabinet, I eventually found it stuck in a corner under a window with a stained glass hippocampus. The window with the Norwegian Ridgeback was on the other side of the room.”
Harry shrugged. “Well, it was a long time ago and Hermione put spells onto it, so perhaps it moved.”
“Now that I’ve found it, what do you want me to do with it?”
“Does it work?”
“The Cabinet? I have no idea and without knowing where its partner is I’m loath to try it out, I don't want to end up trapped inside like Montague. Remember him?”
Harry nodded. “Slytherin Quidditch captain. How can I forget?” He stared at the ceiling for a moment as if trying to decide what to do next. “It’s here.”
“Here?” Draco frowned as he glanced about the room. It contained nothing but the bed, table and a couple of chairs.
“Yeah. It’s through there, in the built-in cupboard.” He pointed to the little dressing room area that lead to the bathroom. “It was where you originally left it.”
“Still at Malfoy Manor?” Draco sat up, the covers sliding off him to bunch up a little over his paunch. The manor had been empty for almost a year now and even he hadn’t been there for a good six months. The house-elves looked after it, keeping it spick and span just in case the lord and lady of the manor should return home. “My father told me he’d got rid of it just in case it could be traced back to the one at Hogwarts.” He scowled; it wouldn’t be the first time Lucius had lied to him. “How did you manage to get in there, let alone remove anything through the protection spells?”
“I didn’t go in. Dobby did.” Harry was grinning.
“The elf you stole from father?” Draco wasn’t sure whether to be angry or amused. Was Harry finally managing to come up with a cunning plan? Or maybe the Sorting Hat had been right and Harry had been mis-Sorted eleven years ago. He’d laughed when Harry had told him about the Hat, scoffing at the very idea of him in Slytherin.
“He was freed, not stolen and the only thing he magicked out was the Cabinet.” Reaching up, Harry twisted a lock of blond hair around his finger and pouted a little. “Are you angry.”
“Of course I am.” Twisting on his knees, Draco straddled Harry’s hips. “Now I’m going to have to rethink all the wards.” He pressed down. “And make sure certain elves are banished.”
Harry groaned. “If you press much harder I’m going to forget my train of thought.” He slid his hands up Draco’s thighs and took hold of his hips. “Can you restore the link between the two Cabinets?”
“I should be able to.” He pushed down, but Harry’s grip held him in place.
“In a minute, Draco, I’m trying to be serious. Just let me finish this first.” Harry shifted. Taking the hint, Draco moved to sit beside him. “The night Professor Dumbledore died. Do you remember what happened to his wand?”
Draco licked his lips, his throat suddenly dry. He’d relived that moment so many times in his dreams. “I used Expelliarmus and the wand went over the ramparts. But you know that - you were there!”
“I know, but I needed to confirm that Dumbledore just didn’t drop it. That you took it from him.”
“But I don’t understand.” Draco grabbed at a pillow, holding it against himself. “What does it matter?” He waited for Harry to respond but he remained silent. “I know - this is one of the things you can’t tell me just in case Voldemort reads my mind.”
“I will explain, Draco, I promise, but I need you to do something for me.” With that Harry scrambled from the bed and rummaged inside the bag he’d brought with him. “I need you to give this to Voldemort.”
Harry held out a wand.
-*-*-
04 - 5th June 2002 - Friend
“Happy birthday, Draco.”
Draco kept his head bowed and didn’t look up. He was on his knees in front of the Dark Lord and one never looked at him directly until invited too. “Thank you, Master.” A skeletal finger touched his chin; the signal for him to look up.
“And how old are you this year?”
Red eyes stared at him and Draco could feel another mind scratching at the edges of his own. He let the right emotions and feelings seep out. Fear and awe worked best, and if he was honest it wasn’t hard to produce both when in the Dark Lord’s presence. “I’m twenty-two, Master.”
“Ah, yes. I remember being that age. I was out in the world searching for my answers.” Voldemort continued to stare for a moment. Draco saw a frown on the man’s face and he struggled to keep his emotions in check. The look disappeared and Voldemort reached for a package on the table next to his chair. He handed it to Draco.
“Thank you.” Draco took it and placed it on the floor in front of him. The Dark Lord always gave presents, but it was expected to give a gift in return. People vied with each other to give the best, the biggest, the most magical, and everyone gathered in the Great Hall would be watching, no doubt expecting Draco to fall flat on his face by giving something inappropriate.
Draco reached into his robes and pulled out a long, slim box, which he held out to the Dark Lord. “I found this...” A murmur went around the room. Found? He waited for the box to be taken and opened. “It was in a room in the undercroft beneath the Astronomy Tower and I found it while showing my fourth year students how to harvest a species of Pisolithus that is known to grow there.” He took a breath. “I believe it is the missing wand of Albus Dumbledore.”
The murmurs turned to gasps. They all knew the Dark Lord had been looking for Dumbledore’s wand since the old wizard had died. That the person who had failed in his task to kill Dumbledore should be the one to find it seemed gratuitous.
Voldemort reached into the box and pulled out the wand. Draco was sure the man’s hand shook just a little as he held up the wand and studied it. “Yes.” The word was a whisper. “Yes, I remember it so well. His wand.” Coming to his feet, the wand box tumbled from his knees to the floor. “After all these years.” He waved Draco away.
“Thank you, Master.” Draco bowed a little and, reaching for the present, shuffled back the required few feet before standing. Voldemort didn’t see the smile that twitched at Draco’s mouth, the Dark Lord was too busy with his new toy.
-*-*-
Draco read the chapter for what seemed like the thousandth time and finally decided he could no longer deny it.
Somehow he was pregnant.
The book was quite clear. He had all the symptoms, including the most obvious. A hand drifted down to his swollen belly. Still convinced he was being poisoned in some way he’d taken to wearing loose-fitting robes a couple of weeks ago. But now it was clear there was no poison involved - just sex at the right time and with someone whose magic mirrored his own.
He realised his hands were shaking just a little and he knew it was shock. How in Salazar’s name could this happen to him of all people? He traced a sentence in the book again, While such occurrences are rare; the magic of two people of the same gender can combine to produce new life. Timing is important because the power of the magic increases with certain celestial activity, such as planetary alignments.
Pulling another book towards him he ran a finger over the listings. Yes, there had been a rare grand conjunction at the previous New Year, in which Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, Venus and Mercury had all been visible shortly after sunset. And where had he been at that moment this conjunction had reached its zenith?
Being well and truly fucked by Harry Potter, that was where.
With a groan he rested his forehead on the desk, rapping his forehead on the wood a couple of times for good measure. That would make him about twenty-two weeks ... just over five months ... gone. Which meant in sixteen weeks he would become a father. Or a mother. Or was it both?
Head still resting on the desk, he reached his hands to cradle his belly. Could there really be a baby in there? Sitting up, he pushed aside his robes, pulled his shirt out of his trousers and stared down at the smooth roundness that Harry had once called his little beer belly. Gingerly he touched, fingers curling to cup his abdomen.
What the hell was he going to do?
“Draco.”
He grabbed at his clothing, desperately trying to rearrange himself at the unexpected intrusion. “Mother.”
“I though I would find out what the Dark Lord gave you.” Narcissa touched the parcel left unwrapped on a shelf before crossing the room to Draco’s desk as he was attempted to hide the books. She turned one round and scanned the page before looking at her son. “I’ve been wondering when you would realise.”
-*-*-
Narcissa Malfoy had done many things for her husband. Some she did because she though they were right, some because he asked and others because he demanded. She understood what family meant, especially pure-blood family, and only ever wanted what she thought was best for her husband and son.
Looking back now with the hindsight of Lucius’ death, she did wonder if all her decisions had been the right ones. On the day she’d lost her husband, the Dark Lord had made her his hetaera. She slept with him to keep her son safe but never told anyone, especially not Draco, what the Dark Lord expected of her. Her sister, Bella, hated her because she wanted to be the one in Voldemort’s bed. Narcissa would gladly exchange her position if she could.
One day, she’d long ago decided, she would slit the man’s throat while he slept - if only she could smuggle a knife into the bedchamber.
Now sitting in her son’s chambers, she looked down at his blond head that rested on her shoulder and knew that once again she had to be strong for him.
She stroked his hair. “Before you were born I went to Diagon Alley to buy some baby clothes. A fortune teller stopped me and said that for a Sickle she would tell me what sex my child would be. I tried to shoo her away but she kept following me so in the end I gave her the Sickle. She held a crystal on a chain over my stomach and I waited for her pronouncement, but it never came. Instead she gasped, sank to her knees and kissed my hand. ‘You carry a Begietan, my mistress, and he will bless you.’ With that she gave me the Sickle back and left. Who would have thought she would be right?”
Draco frowned. Of course he’d heard the term before, but there were supposed to be signs as the child grew up. With him there had been nothing. “I didn’t know. If I had I might have seen the signs.”
“And I didn’t believe the fortune teller. It’s been a very long time since there was a Begietan in my family and even longer since the Malfoys had one. Babies born to a Begietan are considered great treasures, they are thought to be extremely gifted and are often seers and oracles. Can you tell me who the father is?” She felt Draco’s head shake under her hand. “That is, of course, your wish. Will he stand by you?” A shrug. “You haven’t told him?”
“No, not yet. I only really found out today.”
“Really? But you must have known.” Her hand briefly touched his stomach.
Draco gave a little snort of derision. “I thought I was being poisoned. That it might be a tumour or something.”
“Oh, my poor boy.” She hugged him closer. Draco was most definitely pregnant; the spell she’d done earlier confirmed that. “What are you going to do?”
“Do?” Draco finally looked up at her and she realised just how tired and fragile he'd become.
“You can’t stay here, at least not as a teacher. You need to rest and get your strength back.”
“But I have to stay.”
“No,” Narcissa was adamant. “You need to see a Healer first and then rest. If the father isn’t going to look after you then I will.” She looked thoughtfully into the distance. “Perhaps you could stay with the Mereddiths. I went to Hogwarts with Augustine and we’ve stayed close ever since. Her family are from the old traditions in Wales and her great grandfather was a Begietan.”
“Mother, I can’t go.” Draco finally pulled away and sat up. He took a deep breath. “The father is Harry Potter and I’m spying for him.”
And with that he told her almost everything.
-*-*-
Hours later, Narcissa made her way back to her rooms. Voldemort would probably call for her soon and she needed to be there. For the first time in months her step was sure. Draco needed her help; he needed to know what spells protected the Dark Lord.
Finally, she had a way of revenging Lucius’ death. Finally!
-*-*-
05 - 28th June 2002 - Partner
Harry was worried. He had lots of things to be worried about, but at the moment it was Draco Malfoy who was on his mind.
Sitting in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place he chewed absently on his fingernail and stared into the fireplace. Something was very wrong with Draco but he just couldn’t place exactly what it was. Yesterday was the first time they hadn’t had sex in over a year, but more importantly it was like the last two years had never happened. Draco had been sitting at the table when Harry had arrived and never moved away from it and he’d been dressed in voluminous robes even though it had been a hot June day. He’d been aloof and brusque as they’d talked, only seeming to be interested in getting through the meeting as quickly as possible.
He let out a huff of frustration. It had been a good meeting. Draco had not only managed to give Voldemort the wand but had also managed to find out several of the wards the Dark Lord was using to protect himself. Each little bit of information he found out about Voldemort brought him a step closer to beating the man at his own game. To do that he’d been trying to put himself into Voldemort’s mindset for months now, wanting to work out just what the man’s strengths and weaknesses were.
And now his plans were finally coming to fruition. The parts were all there and he just needed to gather the threads and pull them together. But instead of worrying about his plans, his focus had turned to the one person he’d never thought he would give a damn for.
Aware of the beginnings of a headache, he pushed his glasses up and squeezed the bridge of his nose. In his minds eye he could picture Draco clearly as he’d got to his feet and turned away from him, the dark robes flowing about him. There was something that kept playing on his mind.
The sound of footsteps interrupted his thoughts and he looked up to see Charlie Weasley all but waddle into the kitchen. He sat down with a grateful sigh and closed his eyes.
“Morning, Harry. My ankles feel like they’re the size of tree trunks.”
Harry grinned. Charlie was eight months pregnant and he’d never even realised it was possible for a wizard to have a child until Charlie had shown up with his Rumanian partner. Molly had fainted at the news. “Do you want tea?” He got to his feet.
“Harry, you are an angel.” Charlie lifted his feet onto a chair and gave a relieved sigh.
Finding the pot, Harry began making the tea. He was just spooning the tea leaves into the pot when it suddenly hit him. His comments to Draco about putting on weight back at Easter, his even more rounded belly in May and how he’d wanted to touch it. Then the way Draco’s robes had billowed about him, moulding briefly to him.
Realisation dawned. Was it possible Draco was pregnant?
“Harry! Watch it!”
“What?” Dragged from his thoughts, Harry turned to Charlie.
“You’re pouring water all over the floor. Mum’ll kill you.”
He looked down at floor. The water from the kettle had formed a puddle around his feet and the bottom of his jeans was wet. “Bugger! Sorry!” Putting the kettle down, he grabbed for a cloth and crouched down, still muttering under his breath. But as he started to wipe up the spill, the water suddenly disappeared and he could hear Charlie chuckling.
“Forgetting you’re a wizard again?”
Harry harrumphed. Sometimes when his mind was fixed on other things he would go into what Ron called ‘Muggle Mode’. Bunching the cloth in his hands he stood up and shrugged his shoulders. The kettle he’d emptied was already boiling again and he set about making the promised tea.
“Is something wrong? You’re clearly distracted.”
He raised an eyebrow. Wrong? Confused would be a better term. Putting the mugs on the table, he sat down again. “Um, when did you realise you were having a baby?” He felt heat rise in his cheeks and he gave an embarrassed laugh.
“Me?” Charlie laughed. “When Stefan told me I was putting on weight.” He started ladling sugar into his mug. “Why? You don’t think you’re pregnant do you? I didn’t even know you were with anyone.”
“No ... no, it’s not me. I....” Harry shrugged. “It’s just you’re the only man I’ve ever known with a baby.” He fiddled with his mug. “How do you ... how does it....” He gesticulated with his hand.
“Get out?” Charlie smiled at him kindly and Harry knew he was going red. “Same way it got in - with magic. My Healer said it’s a bit like Apparition. But it depends on how magically strong the parents are; that’s why Stefan will be with me when it’s time.”
“Oh ... right ... um. And if he couldn’t be there?”
“Then they’d do an operation - a bit like Muggles do. Harry, are you okay? You’ve gone as white as a ghost.”
“There’s something.... Sorry, Charlie, I’ve got to sort something out.”
Harry took the stairs to his bedroom two at a time, hauling himself upwards with the help of the banister. Once in the room he closed the door, sealing it with a quick spell and leaned back against it. He reached into a pocket of his jeans and pulled out a gold Galleon, one of the ones Hermione had magicked back in his fifth year for use by members of Dumbledore’s Army. Draco had his own coin, linked to the one Harry had and if either sent a message they would sense the magical signature. It was such simple magic really, so simple that no one bothered with it. Even if the coin were accidentally passed onto a new owner they’d probably just pocket it.
He ran his thumb over the surface. There was nothing, not even a hint of magic and he berated himself for thinking that Draco would suddenly send a message saying ‘Oh by the way, I’m pregnant and you’re the father’. After all, he hadn’t even heard from Draco in weeks.
He kicked the door with his heel. “Dammit, Draco. Where are you!?”
An idea suddenly struck him. Shoving the coin back in his pocket, he strode across the room and knelt down beside the bed. He removed the wards from a floorboard and lifted it free. Inside the hole was the small drawstring moleskin pouch that Hagrid had given him for his seventeenth birthday. Quickly he pulled out what he was looking for, a large piece of very worn parchment; The Marauder’s Map. He tapped it with his wand and intoned, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”
Lines spread across the surface like fractures on a sheet of ice, recreating every detail of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He scanned it, studying all the little moving dots that represented people and it took him a moment to find the one that was Draco Malfoy. The man was in one of the dungeon classrooms and by the look of the cluster of other dots in the room, he was teaching a class.
Well, at least Draco was alive. Now all Harry needed to do was get a message to him.
He was just about to put the map down when he noticed a small dot hovering close to Draco’s mark. At first he thought it was a speck of dirt, but it didn’t scrape away when he rubbed at it. Then he realised it was moving with Draco and that there was tiny, almost invisible, writing next to it. Holding the parchment closer, he tried to make out what it said, but it still wasn’t clear. Quickly he got to his feet and scrabbled in a drawer for a magnifying glass.
Finding it, he focused it on the writing and let out a gasp. It read ‘and Son’.
-*-*-
06 - 5th July 2002 - Father
Draco had never been good at masque spells because he hadn’t needed to use one until now. He remembered trying one when he’d been about fifteen and had woken one morning with several rather nasty spots on his face. Millicent has suggested a healing spell, but Pansy had claimed that might leave a scar. She’d taught him how to cover them with a magical illusion, which had worked well. Until, that was, the spell had ended early and he’d been left in the middle of Herbology with his spots and several sniggering Gryffindors.
But at twenty-six weeks, billowing robes no longer hid his condition despite the fact Narcissa kept telling him he was lucky because he was carrying the child low on his hips. When she was carrying him, he stuck out so far that she couldn’t have hidden him even if she’d wanted to.
It had been his mother who’d suggested the masque spell; Draco couldn’t continue teaching and hide the fact he was going to have a baby. They had spent many hours perfecting the spell to create the illusion and now Draco managed to produce it each morning without any problems.
Draco stood now in the safe house, waiting for Harry and wondered if he was doing the right thing. He was sure what Harry’s reaction would be to his impending fatherhood. Harry would stare at him, mouth open in stunned silence, and then as it sank in, Harry would become the protective Gryffindor. He’d make Draco sit down and ask about putting Draco’s feet up and making him tea. Then Harry would realise that he was sending the father - or was that mother - of his unborn child back into danger; he would demand that Draco stay with him even though he needed Draco to be at Hogwarts.
He rested his hands on his belly. The masque spell always made touching himself feel strange, as if he was reaching through fog. His mother had told him that the spell worked as much on the mind as the body and because he knew the truth he only experienced a partial sensation. Harry wouldn’t notice anything unusual, at least not until they touched.
No, Draco knew that either he hid behind the table again or he tell Harry the truth. The fact was he wanted Harry to know even if the other man’s reaction was one of disbelief and horror.
He didn’t turn at the soft pop of Apparition or at the silence that followed. It was only when Harry’s hands rested on his shoulders that he looked round.
“Hello, Draco,” Harry’s voice was a whisper as he reached out to brush blond hair from Draco’s face and kissed his neck.
Draco sighed at the touch. Closing his eyes he intoned the masque counter-spell, feeling it dissipate. Nervously he turned. “Hello, Harry.” He’d visualised several reactions to his swollen belly, but not the one he got.
Harry’s eyes were bright as if he was going to cry. Lifting both his hands to Draco’s face, he kissed him gently. Then carefully, he placed the tips of his fingers on Draco’s abdomen as if he was touching something precious, his expression one of awe. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You know?” Draco’s mouth went dry. “How do you know?”
“Can I touch you?”
“What?”
“Do you mind ... can I touch you?”
“I....” Draco took a breath to try and stop the emotion he could feel welling inside him. “Of course I don’t mind,” he whispered, unable to take his eyes of Harry.
Fingertips splayed until Harry’s palm was flat on Draco’s stomach. “Is he ... I know, um, I know he is ... but, I need....” He took a shuddering breath. “Is he mine?”
Any umbrage that Draco might have taken at the question was lost as he realised Harry had said ‘is he mine’. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out and all he could do was nod.
Harry sank to his knees, both hands now cradling Draco. Softly he whispered, “Hello, Baby,” before resting his cheek against Draco’s stomach.
Tears rolled down Harry’s cheeks. Draco reached out to comfort him, but realised he was crying too.
-*-*-
Later they lay in bed. For once Draco was on his back with Harry’s head resting on his chest. He looked down at the dark head, fingers playing with the black hair while Harry seemed content to rest his hand over Draco’s navel.
They had made love, Harry fucking Draco gently. Draco had kept telling him that he wasn’t a fragile flower - that Harry could still pound him into the bed and make him come as if it was the end of the world. But Harry kept his pace slow and measured. He let Draco come first and it was an orgasm like he’d never experienced before; it felt like he was ice and Harry fire ... like he was melting.
Then it was Harry’s turn. Draco squeezed around the hard cock inside him and this time he was the fire. He tipped Harry over the edge and let Harry fall into his orgasm from a great height.
He carded his fingers through Harry’s hair, which was still damp from their lovemaking. “Harry, why did you say ‘he’ when you were talking about the baby?”
Harry moved a little until his head was nestled on Draco’s shoulder and looked up. “The Map.”
“What map?”
“The one I told you about - the one my dad helped make of Hogwarts.” Harry quickly told him about Charlie and how it had suddenly dawned on him that Draco might be pregnant as well. “But I couldn’t contact you, so I checked the Map to see if I could find you. There was another little dot next to you and the label on it said ‘and Son’ ... Draco Malfoy and Son.” He stroked Draco’s abdomen.
“And you believe everything this map says?”
“Well, it’s always been right before.” Harry kissed Draco’s chin. “When's he due?”
“The beginning of October ... another twelve weeks.”
They fell into a companionable silence and Draco wondered what it would be like to wake up every morning with Harry at his side and to go to sleep with him there as well? One day it would happen. He snuggled down a little and made himself more comfortable.
“Does it hurt?”
“Being the size of a Halloween pumpkin? No, not unless you count the backache, swollen ankles, morning sickness and constantly needing to pee.”
“Oh, right.”
Draco felt a warm hand press against the small of his back.
“I can rub your back.”
“And massage my ankles?”
“If you want me to.” Harry chuckled and then became serious. “You can’t go back. It’s not safe.”
Draco had expected the comment - typical Gryffindor chivalry. He wasn’t going to argue. “The Vanishing Cabinet isn’t working properly yet.”
“So?”
“And we still don’t know all the wards Voldemort's using. My source won’t work with anyone else.” “Who is it, Draco?”
“I can’t tell you, anymore than you can tell me your plans.” Draco pushed himself up on his elbow and looked down at Harry. “You’re so close, Harry, and we can’t let this stop us now. I want our baby to grow up in a world without Voldemort.”
“But....”
“How long before you can do what you’re planning?”
“I can’t do it yet.” Harry took a deep breath. “And I can’t say anymore because I’ve spent the last two years getting to this point and if he gets into your mind then it could all be over. That’s why I don’t want you to go back.”
Draco huffed, he knew it was true but what really annoyed him was the idea that Harry thought he couldn’t deal with Voldemort. Hadn’t he been doing that for more years then he cared to think about? “If it’s that important then we have to see this through. All the students will be leaving for the summer in a few days so it will be easier to get around the castle without raising suspicion. I can get the Cabinet prepared and get my source to finish their research, then I’ll leave.” His mind began running through possibilities. He’d have to get his mother out as well. “Give me to the end of the month.”
“The end of the month?”
He grinned. “Look on it as my birthday present to you.”
-*-*-
Part 2