Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy - Snuffles - PG-13
Title: Snuffles
Author: screaminglungs
Summary: Harry is up late looking after a sickly baby and worrying about the future.
Rating: PG
Warning: Brief mentions of MPREG.
Word Count: 1476
Harry Potter lay back on the sofa in a strangely quiet house. The only noise was the occasional snuffling of the baby lying exhausted on his chest. It was the time of year when everyone seemed to be sick and their son was no exception. He was only six months old and Harry hated to listen to him wheezing. He frowned as the limp little body shuddered from shivers running up and down his fever ridden body. Unfortunately as Poppy had pointedly told him; “There is no cure for the common cold Mr Potter, now kindly never call me again at two o’clock in the morning.” There was nothing they could do except wait it out.
Draco had long since disappeared upstairs to their bedroom; he was shivering one moment and sweating the next, Harry knew it was only a matter of time until he was sick. Molly had told him that as soon as one of the children got sick then inevitably sooner or later everyone did. The tiny baby settled comfortably on his torso sniffed so loudly into his neck that he disturbed his own slumber and his small fingers gripped at the red fabric of Harry’s old Gryffindor t-shirt and his legs kicked out weakly before he settled back into sleep.
Harry frowned down at his son and couldn’t stop himself from brushing the black hair from the baby’s sweaty forehead. It was almost four o’clock in the morning and he had been lying on the plush brown couch in their half lit living room with Alex balanced carefully on his chest for almost an hour. The child had barely slept because of his cold all day and Harry was afraid to move. Although he wasn’t happy to admit this to himself he was also just plain afraid. He had promised himself that despite his own upbringing, despite Draco’s he would not be an over protective parent. He had seen the way Hermione had fussed incessantly over her twins born several years earlier. Yet seeing his own unbelievably vulnerable child shudder with the effects of a fever and wheeze as he struggled to breathe changed things. It seemed that underneath his calm exterior there had been a worrying nut waiting to get out. Every time the child rasped Harry found himself freezing and holding his own breath until the breathing of his son returned to some semblance of normalcy. Every few moments he held his fingers up to the forehead that was radiating heat, hoping that some how the next time the child would be fine. With every moment that ticked by he itched to dive across the room to the fire place and demand that Poppy come over, and that he didn’t care one bit what time it was.
For the first time since Alex’s birth Harry felt like he could truly identify with his parents. Although he had been protective of Alex since the day he was born he had always regarded his child and partner to be relatively safe. The birth had all gone fine; he had weighed just over 7lbs, and was absolutely perfect. Finally after nine months of worry about Draco and the entity growing inside him Harry could rest easily. Alex had developed fine and there hadn’t been a single problem, until now. No amount of his protection could have stopped this stupid virus from coming into their home and turning his beautiful, happy baby boy into a whining, shivering wreck, not to mention Draco; who’s whining had simply gotten worse.
He could stop a Dark Lord but he could not stop something he could not see, he could not solve this with his wand. The thought frightened Harry maybe a little more than it should have. He had lost so many people in his life and he knew he was acting a little irrationally but he felt he could finally understand why his parents had run away. Why they had locked themselves away in that house and hidden Harry. Just having to watch his own child in pain made Harry wonder how they ever lived with the idea that some mad man was out to kill them and their child.
Maybe it was the lack of sleep that was making him think so morbidly but he couldn’t help but feel a sinking feeling in his stomach at the thought of losing Alex, or losing Draco. He felt absolutely ridiculous for just thinking such things and he mentally slapped himself for getting this worked up over a cold. Draco would tease him mercilessly if right now he had the energy to do so. He ran the tips of his fingers over the dark curls which had recently sprung up all over his son’s head and smiled softly. He really was so unbelievably beautiful, he was breathing deeply, his flushed cheek pressed into Harry’s collar bone, despite his dark hair he looked as exactly as Harry thought Draco would have when he was a baby. Light eyes, soft features and Harry was sure his son had already learned to smirk. In short Harry thought he was perfect.
Harry looked up at the sound of the top stair creaking and frowned as Draco’s long pale feet came into view between the banisters. Within seconds his partner was standing over him smiling, his greys still dark and cloudy from sleep.
“Why haven’t you come upstairs?” Draco leaned over the back of the couch, he still looked ill. Like their child his cheeks were flushed and his soft hair stuck around his face. Draco reached down and ghosted his hand over Harry’s own as they continued to brush through the baby’s hair.
“I’m scared to wake him.” Harry managed to get out whilst yawning, he was utterly exhausted.
“Well since he’s not waking up to your petting him I’m sure he’ll make it up the stairs. You need your sleep, who else is going to make me soup tomorrow?” Harry hated that Draco’s sharp wit did not diminish no matter how high his temperature got.
“Fine, fine.” Harry grumbled half heartedly, after all their enormous (yet some what over priced) bed would be far more comfortable, if they managed to make it there without waking their unusually irritable baby. Harry attempted to stand with the baby in his arms but Draco swept down and scooped the child from Harry’s chest and settled him across one shoulder before Alex even had time to register that he had been moved. Harry clambered to his feet and spun around to chastise his lover for waking the sleeping infant but simply found a still silent child and a smirking Draco.
“Why does that never happen to me?” Harry whined as they walked towards the stairs.
“You’re always so careful with him, you move too slowly and he wakes up. Babies are more resilient than you think Potter.” The two men and baby were slowly making their way up the stairs and Harry smiled, he placed a hand on the small of Draco’s back as a gesture of understanding. He didn’t want to argue, he was too tired and deep down he knew that his irrational protectiveness was something he needed to try and deal with.
They crossed the hall into their room and Harry watched as Draco placed their child in the middle of the huge bed. Alex squirmed for a moment, his tiny first pushing at his face in protest of his new position before once again settling down. The two men held their breath momentarily and watched until their son was still before Draco turned towards Harry and padded across the room to his husband. He slipped his arms around Harry’s waist and much like his son settled his head on the taller man’s chest. Draco was still burning up and Harry frowned when he pressed his lips to an overheated forehead.
“Right you bed.” Harry reluctantly disentangled himself from Draco and gripped his shoulders and led him to their bed pushing him onto the mattress. Harry smiled and leaned down, pressing his lips softly to Draco’s before wandering around the bed and climbing in on the other side of their son. The two men switched off their bedside lamps and turned to face one another. They tangled their legs and seemed to form a protective cage around their sleeping baby.
“Goodnight Harry.” Draco slid his bare foot along Harry’s calf and Harry pushed back with his foot in answer.
“Good night my love.” As he listened to his husband and child sleeping Harry realised that he could not affect the future, he was as powerless as anyone in this world to prevent the inevitable. He would not do as his parents did, and live in fear of every day, he was Harry and Draco was right. It was time to stop worrying.
Author: screaminglungs
Summary: Harry is up late looking after a sickly baby and worrying about the future.
Rating: PG
Warning: Brief mentions of MPREG.
Word Count: 1476
Harry Potter lay back on the sofa in a strangely quiet house. The only noise was the occasional snuffling of the baby lying exhausted on his chest. It was the time of year when everyone seemed to be sick and their son was no exception. He was only six months old and Harry hated to listen to him wheezing. He frowned as the limp little body shuddered from shivers running up and down his fever ridden body. Unfortunately as Poppy had pointedly told him; “There is no cure for the common cold Mr Potter, now kindly never call me again at two o’clock in the morning.” There was nothing they could do except wait it out.
Draco had long since disappeared upstairs to their bedroom; he was shivering one moment and sweating the next, Harry knew it was only a matter of time until he was sick. Molly had told him that as soon as one of the children got sick then inevitably sooner or later everyone did. The tiny baby settled comfortably on his torso sniffed so loudly into his neck that he disturbed his own slumber and his small fingers gripped at the red fabric of Harry’s old Gryffindor t-shirt and his legs kicked out weakly before he settled back into sleep.
Harry frowned down at his son and couldn’t stop himself from brushing the black hair from the baby’s sweaty forehead. It was almost four o’clock in the morning and he had been lying on the plush brown couch in their half lit living room with Alex balanced carefully on his chest for almost an hour. The child had barely slept because of his cold all day and Harry was afraid to move. Although he wasn’t happy to admit this to himself he was also just plain afraid. He had promised himself that despite his own upbringing, despite Draco’s he would not be an over protective parent. He had seen the way Hermione had fussed incessantly over her twins born several years earlier. Yet seeing his own unbelievably vulnerable child shudder with the effects of a fever and wheeze as he struggled to breathe changed things. It seemed that underneath his calm exterior there had been a worrying nut waiting to get out. Every time the child rasped Harry found himself freezing and holding his own breath until the breathing of his son returned to some semblance of normalcy. Every few moments he held his fingers up to the forehead that was radiating heat, hoping that some how the next time the child would be fine. With every moment that ticked by he itched to dive across the room to the fire place and demand that Poppy come over, and that he didn’t care one bit what time it was.
For the first time since Alex’s birth Harry felt like he could truly identify with his parents. Although he had been protective of Alex since the day he was born he had always regarded his child and partner to be relatively safe. The birth had all gone fine; he had weighed just over 7lbs, and was absolutely perfect. Finally after nine months of worry about Draco and the entity growing inside him Harry could rest easily. Alex had developed fine and there hadn’t been a single problem, until now. No amount of his protection could have stopped this stupid virus from coming into their home and turning his beautiful, happy baby boy into a whining, shivering wreck, not to mention Draco; who’s whining had simply gotten worse.
He could stop a Dark Lord but he could not stop something he could not see, he could not solve this with his wand. The thought frightened Harry maybe a little more than it should have. He had lost so many people in his life and he knew he was acting a little irrationally but he felt he could finally understand why his parents had run away. Why they had locked themselves away in that house and hidden Harry. Just having to watch his own child in pain made Harry wonder how they ever lived with the idea that some mad man was out to kill them and their child.
Maybe it was the lack of sleep that was making him think so morbidly but he couldn’t help but feel a sinking feeling in his stomach at the thought of losing Alex, or losing Draco. He felt absolutely ridiculous for just thinking such things and he mentally slapped himself for getting this worked up over a cold. Draco would tease him mercilessly if right now he had the energy to do so. He ran the tips of his fingers over the dark curls which had recently sprung up all over his son’s head and smiled softly. He really was so unbelievably beautiful, he was breathing deeply, his flushed cheek pressed into Harry’s collar bone, despite his dark hair he looked as exactly as Harry thought Draco would have when he was a baby. Light eyes, soft features and Harry was sure his son had already learned to smirk. In short Harry thought he was perfect.
Harry looked up at the sound of the top stair creaking and frowned as Draco’s long pale feet came into view between the banisters. Within seconds his partner was standing over him smiling, his greys still dark and cloudy from sleep.
“Why haven’t you come upstairs?” Draco leaned over the back of the couch, he still looked ill. Like their child his cheeks were flushed and his soft hair stuck around his face. Draco reached down and ghosted his hand over Harry’s own as they continued to brush through the baby’s hair.
“I’m scared to wake him.” Harry managed to get out whilst yawning, he was utterly exhausted.
“Well since he’s not waking up to your petting him I’m sure he’ll make it up the stairs. You need your sleep, who else is going to make me soup tomorrow?” Harry hated that Draco’s sharp wit did not diminish no matter how high his temperature got.
“Fine, fine.” Harry grumbled half heartedly, after all their enormous (yet some what over priced) bed would be far more comfortable, if they managed to make it there without waking their unusually irritable baby. Harry attempted to stand with the baby in his arms but Draco swept down and scooped the child from Harry’s chest and settled him across one shoulder before Alex even had time to register that he had been moved. Harry clambered to his feet and spun around to chastise his lover for waking the sleeping infant but simply found a still silent child and a smirking Draco.
“Why does that never happen to me?” Harry whined as they walked towards the stairs.
“You’re always so careful with him, you move too slowly and he wakes up. Babies are more resilient than you think Potter.” The two men and baby were slowly making their way up the stairs and Harry smiled, he placed a hand on the small of Draco’s back as a gesture of understanding. He didn’t want to argue, he was too tired and deep down he knew that his irrational protectiveness was something he needed to try and deal with.
They crossed the hall into their room and Harry watched as Draco placed their child in the middle of the huge bed. Alex squirmed for a moment, his tiny first pushing at his face in protest of his new position before once again settling down. The two men held their breath momentarily and watched until their son was still before Draco turned towards Harry and padded across the room to his husband. He slipped his arms around Harry’s waist and much like his son settled his head on the taller man’s chest. Draco was still burning up and Harry frowned when he pressed his lips to an overheated forehead.
“Right you bed.” Harry reluctantly disentangled himself from Draco and gripped his shoulders and led him to their bed pushing him onto the mattress. Harry smiled and leaned down, pressing his lips softly to Draco’s before wandering around the bed and climbing in on the other side of their son. The two men switched off their bedside lamps and turned to face one another. They tangled their legs and seemed to form a protective cage around their sleeping baby.
“Goodnight Harry.” Draco slid his bare foot along Harry’s calf and Harry pushed back with his foot in answer.
“Good night my love.” As he listened to his husband and child sleeping Harry realised that he could not affect the future, he was as powerless as anyone in this world to prevent the inevitable. He would not do as his parents did, and live in fear of every day, he was Harry and Draco was right. It was time to stop worrying.