Sunday Morning Refection - Harry/Draco - PG
Title: Sunday Morning Reflection
Author: screaminglungs
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Warnings: Implied Mpreg
Word Count: 1500
Summary: Harry knows its early, but moments like this when the house is quiet should be savoured, not squandered in sleep.
Author's Note: This is another in the Snuffles Universe and is set roughly five years after the yet to be finish (ahem abandoned WIP) "And Then There Were Four". Beta read by the lovely kcstories
It was too early to be up on a Sunday morning, but for some reason Harry couldn’t get back to sleep. For once the house was silent, the bed was warm and there was a part of him that wanted to stay awake to appreciate it. Their lives were so filled with chaos at the moment that rare moments like this should be cherished, even if they occurred at 7am on a Sunday.
Harry smiled up at the ceiling as Draco pulled him closer in his sleep and hummed happily against Harry’s neck. He couldn’t believe that there had been a time when he couldn’t sleep properly with Draco in his bed, when every little movement next to him would wake him. Now he couldn’t sleep without him, couldn’t sleep without the solid warmth of the lithe body next to his own, or without the slender arm constantly thrown across his waist and the hand that curled up over his heart in a loose fist.
When Draco was away on business, Harry would spend the wee hours of the night pacing the house in the vain hope it would tire him out enough to fall asleep; it rarely worked. Draco would smile at him sadly when he came home, both of them with matching bloodshot and bruised eyes from spending four sleepless nights apart. These times apart were often followed by weekends that their two children would spend with Grandma Molly and Grandpa Arthur while their fathers spent two days in bed sleeping, mostly.
It wasn’t that Harry didn’t like the chaos that was his and Draco’s family. In fact, he loved it. He just felt at times that there wasn’t enough time to stand back and appreciate what they had because they were always so busy. After Maggie had been born and Alex had begun school, Harry and Draco found themselves willing to go back to work; they coped far better with parenthood now that they had already done it and they thought it was about time they set up some sort of normal routine for them and their family. Harry had recently made Deputy Head Auror while Draco owned his own experimental Potions business in Hogsmeade. Both jobs were perfect for them and flexible enough so that one or both of them could always be around for their children when they were needed. Despite that, they were demanding and Harry always felt like there wasn’t enough time in the day to do everything he wanted.
Alex was almost seven now and Maggie had just turned four. They were a handful on their own, but together they were a force to be reckoned with. Harry couldn’t help but smile when he thought of them. It still astounded him that there were two children in the house, children he and Draco had created, that they were trying to raise, as best they could, of course.
He often still thought of Draco and himself as young men just out of school who were far too young to have such responsible lives. He sometimes walked into the Auror Department expecting someone to tell him he didn’t belong there, that he should run on back to Hogwarts and stop playing at being an adult. Of course he never let any of the recruits know that; one sniff of fear or doubt and they’d walk all over him. It was pretty much the same with their children.
Alex was a miniature version of his fathers, the perfect combination of the two, with Harry’s hair and Draco’s eyes and more pointed features, but when it came to his temperament, he was all Harry. He was selfless in a way that Harry had never known a child to be, always looked out for his little sister and did his best to prove to his parents how grown up he could be. Maggie was a completely different story. She had her fathers and her brother wrapped around her little finger and she knew exactly how to bend them to her will. It didn’t help that she had the definition of an angelic face, white blonde hair that curled around her soft round face in ringlets and big grey eyes that stared out of a face that despite its femininity could have been Harry’s as a child.
Despite Maggie’s best efforts to the contrary, neither of their children was particularly spoiled. Harry was always conscious of how Dudley had behaved when he was growing up and Draco was all too aware of his own background. They didn’t want their children to grow up thinking they could have whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted it. Their children would never want for anything they really needed, and the Potter family would never struggle in the ways the Weasleys must have done as they raised their family, but both Harry and Draco worked to instil a sense of humility in their children. Despite all the money they had, they were never showy about it, and although Draco would always be a frightful snob, he worked hard to ensure his children would not be.
Draco was an amazing father, so far removed from Lucius that Harry often found it difficult to reconcile the two as father and son. Draco was compassionate and warm and loving in a way he was sure the austere and cold Lucius had never been. Draco was Alex’ confidant and their son always went to him when he needed comfort. There were many evenings when Harry would come home late from work to find his husband and son on their bed, Alex asleep with his face pressed into Draco’s neck and his body wound around his father’s like a vine. Draco would smile sadly as he looked up from whatever trashy Muggle novel he was reading and inform him that their little boy had had a nightmare. Draco and Alex had a bond that Harry could never compete with. Not that he wanted to. Draco had given birth to their son and there was a closeness between them that Harry understood completely whenever he looked similarly at their daughter knowing she had grown inside him. Harry was like Alex’ best friend; they were boys together in a way that was far too rough and messy for Draco’s Gucci shoes and designer jeans. Harry had been with Alex the day they had found a frog in the mud near the pond at the Burrow. They had built a fort together out of old wood at the end of their lawn (despite Draco’s protestations that it spoiled the garden) and they climbed trees together in the Forest of Dean when they went on family treasure hunts.
Maggie was a completely different kettle of fish. She was a Daddy’s girl through and through, and always went to Harry when she was sad or tired, climbing into his lap and tucking her blonde head under Harry’s chin. She took comfort from sitting quietly, leaning back against her Daddy’s chest tracing patterns across the large palms of his hands until she fell asleep or felt happy enough to climb down again. Harry dreaded the day when she would be too big to be his little girl anymore, when she would start wearing makeup and filling her Hogwarts letters with talk of boys. To him, she would always be that tiny little bundle that caused him so much pain and that he had stared at in wonder from his hospital bed.
Maggie and Draco were partners in crime. There were many mornings when Harry would come downstairs and find the two of them sitting at the kitchen table giggling at something while they sipped at cups of tea. They would of course stop immediately when Harry came through the door and look at one another with devious smiles and guilty glances. His daughter was a Slytherin through and through.
The two men had literally put their bodies, hearts and souls into making their family and Harry didn’t have a single moment of regret; well, one, that there wasn’t more time to spend basking in the general warmth he felt every time he thought of them.
“Harry?” Draco’s voice was hoarse with sleep and Harry looked down to see him staring up at him with bleary grey eyes.
“Yeah?”
“You’re doing it again,” Draco mumbled and pressed a kiss against Harry’s bare chest.
“Doing what?”
“Basking; you look like the cat that’s got the cream,” Draco uttered while trying to stifle a yawn,
Harry grinned widely. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Draco groaned, snuggled into Harry’s side once more and closed his eyes, leaving his possibly insane husband to his thoughts.
Author: screaminglungs
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Warnings: Implied Mpreg
Word Count: 1500
Summary: Harry knows its early, but moments like this when the house is quiet should be savoured, not squandered in sleep.
Author's Note: This is another in the Snuffles Universe and is set roughly five years after the yet to be finish (ahem abandoned WIP) "And Then There Were Four". Beta read by the lovely kcstories
It was too early to be up on a Sunday morning, but for some reason Harry couldn’t get back to sleep. For once the house was silent, the bed was warm and there was a part of him that wanted to stay awake to appreciate it. Their lives were so filled with chaos at the moment that rare moments like this should be cherished, even if they occurred at 7am on a Sunday.
Harry smiled up at the ceiling as Draco pulled him closer in his sleep and hummed happily against Harry’s neck. He couldn’t believe that there had been a time when he couldn’t sleep properly with Draco in his bed, when every little movement next to him would wake him. Now he couldn’t sleep without him, couldn’t sleep without the solid warmth of the lithe body next to his own, or without the slender arm constantly thrown across his waist and the hand that curled up over his heart in a loose fist.
When Draco was away on business, Harry would spend the wee hours of the night pacing the house in the vain hope it would tire him out enough to fall asleep; it rarely worked. Draco would smile at him sadly when he came home, both of them with matching bloodshot and bruised eyes from spending four sleepless nights apart. These times apart were often followed by weekends that their two children would spend with Grandma Molly and Grandpa Arthur while their fathers spent two days in bed sleeping, mostly.
It wasn’t that Harry didn’t like the chaos that was his and Draco’s family. In fact, he loved it. He just felt at times that there wasn’t enough time to stand back and appreciate what they had because they were always so busy. After Maggie had been born and Alex had begun school, Harry and Draco found themselves willing to go back to work; they coped far better with parenthood now that they had already done it and they thought it was about time they set up some sort of normal routine for them and their family. Harry had recently made Deputy Head Auror while Draco owned his own experimental Potions business in Hogsmeade. Both jobs were perfect for them and flexible enough so that one or both of them could always be around for their children when they were needed. Despite that, they were demanding and Harry always felt like there wasn’t enough time in the day to do everything he wanted.
Alex was almost seven now and Maggie had just turned four. They were a handful on their own, but together they were a force to be reckoned with. Harry couldn’t help but smile when he thought of them. It still astounded him that there were two children in the house, children he and Draco had created, that they were trying to raise, as best they could, of course.
He often still thought of Draco and himself as young men just out of school who were far too young to have such responsible lives. He sometimes walked into the Auror Department expecting someone to tell him he didn’t belong there, that he should run on back to Hogwarts and stop playing at being an adult. Of course he never let any of the recruits know that; one sniff of fear or doubt and they’d walk all over him. It was pretty much the same with their children.
Alex was a miniature version of his fathers, the perfect combination of the two, with Harry’s hair and Draco’s eyes and more pointed features, but when it came to his temperament, he was all Harry. He was selfless in a way that Harry had never known a child to be, always looked out for his little sister and did his best to prove to his parents how grown up he could be. Maggie was a completely different story. She had her fathers and her brother wrapped around her little finger and she knew exactly how to bend them to her will. It didn’t help that she had the definition of an angelic face, white blonde hair that curled around her soft round face in ringlets and big grey eyes that stared out of a face that despite its femininity could have been Harry’s as a child.
Despite Maggie’s best efforts to the contrary, neither of their children was particularly spoiled. Harry was always conscious of how Dudley had behaved when he was growing up and Draco was all too aware of his own background. They didn’t want their children to grow up thinking they could have whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted it. Their children would never want for anything they really needed, and the Potter family would never struggle in the ways the Weasleys must have done as they raised their family, but both Harry and Draco worked to instil a sense of humility in their children. Despite all the money they had, they were never showy about it, and although Draco would always be a frightful snob, he worked hard to ensure his children would not be.
Draco was an amazing father, so far removed from Lucius that Harry often found it difficult to reconcile the two as father and son. Draco was compassionate and warm and loving in a way he was sure the austere and cold Lucius had never been. Draco was Alex’ confidant and their son always went to him when he needed comfort. There were many evenings when Harry would come home late from work to find his husband and son on their bed, Alex asleep with his face pressed into Draco’s neck and his body wound around his father’s like a vine. Draco would smile sadly as he looked up from whatever trashy Muggle novel he was reading and inform him that their little boy had had a nightmare. Draco and Alex had a bond that Harry could never compete with. Not that he wanted to. Draco had given birth to their son and there was a closeness between them that Harry understood completely whenever he looked similarly at their daughter knowing she had grown inside him. Harry was like Alex’ best friend; they were boys together in a way that was far too rough and messy for Draco’s Gucci shoes and designer jeans. Harry had been with Alex the day they had found a frog in the mud near the pond at the Burrow. They had built a fort together out of old wood at the end of their lawn (despite Draco’s protestations that it spoiled the garden) and they climbed trees together in the Forest of Dean when they went on family treasure hunts.
Maggie was a completely different kettle of fish. She was a Daddy’s girl through and through, and always went to Harry when she was sad or tired, climbing into his lap and tucking her blonde head under Harry’s chin. She took comfort from sitting quietly, leaning back against her Daddy’s chest tracing patterns across the large palms of his hands until she fell asleep or felt happy enough to climb down again. Harry dreaded the day when she would be too big to be his little girl anymore, when she would start wearing makeup and filling her Hogwarts letters with talk of boys. To him, she would always be that tiny little bundle that caused him so much pain and that he had stared at in wonder from his hospital bed.
Maggie and Draco were partners in crime. There were many mornings when Harry would come downstairs and find the two of them sitting at the kitchen table giggling at something while they sipped at cups of tea. They would of course stop immediately when Harry came through the door and look at one another with devious smiles and guilty glances. His daughter was a Slytherin through and through.
The two men had literally put their bodies, hearts and souls into making their family and Harry didn’t have a single moment of regret; well, one, that there wasn’t more time to spend basking in the general warmth he felt every time he thought of them.
“Harry?” Draco’s voice was hoarse with sleep and Harry looked down to see him staring up at him with bleary grey eyes.
“Yeah?”
“You’re doing it again,” Draco mumbled and pressed a kiss against Harry’s bare chest.
“Doing what?”
“Basking; you look like the cat that’s got the cream,” Draco uttered while trying to stifle a yawn,
Harry grinned widely. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Draco groaned, snuggled into Harry’s side once more and closed his eyes, leaving his possibly insane husband to his thoughts.