Fic: Yours, Mine, and Ours Ch. 21/?
Title: Yours, Mine, and Ours
Author: alexjanna91
Pairing: H/D, past H/G and D/A mentioned
Rating: PG-13 (overall)
Genre: Au, Romance, Post-Hogwarts/War
Warnings: SS(PS)-DH compliant, EWE, future m-preg, reference and discussion of difficult topics
Word Count: (For this Ch.) 6,228
Disclaimer: HP is not mine. Plot and OCs for this fic are though.
Status: WIP
Summary: After his wife leaves him and abandons their children abruptly, Harry doesn't think he or his kids will ever be able to heal. But a chance meeting with an old nemesis and his son in Diagon, various childish schemes, and a little bit of quick upheaval make Harry realize that just maybe everything isn't as irreparable or dire as he thought.
A/N: Inspired by the classic movies Houseboat (1958) and Yours, Mine, and Ours (1968). I love fics with their kids in them and have never really written one before for this fandom. This idea just came to me while I was watching Houseboat and started flowing like water. I hope you all enjoy this one!
Chapter Twenty
***Chapter Twenty-One***
Draco spent the next few days after his surprising semi-revelation in Fortescue’s trying to forget he ever had it to begin with.
It wasn't that he was unhappy with the idea that he was... It was just that he was- a little panicked about it. They'd done everything right. Contraceptive spells are as near to fool proof as you can get.
He scoffed to himself and sipped at his Zinger tea. They may be fool proof, but apparently they weren't Potter proof. Honestly.
Another thing he really did not particularly want to think about was what he was going to do. If his suspicions were correct, then that was it. He would do everything in his power to make sure that nothing went wrong, that everything was perfect, or as perfect as a thing like this could be, and he would... love the child like he loved Scorpius… and Albus, and James, and Teddy, and Lily.
What would Harry say, though? What would he do? Or think?
"Ah, mon petit chou1." A lilting accented voice said from just behind him. "Do you mind if I join you for a cup of tea?"
Glancing over his shoulder, Draco flashed one of his most charming smiles at his Grand-mère. "Not at all." He said, gesturing to the free chair beside him. "Have a seat."
Cassiopeia seated herself primly and called up a house-elf for another tea cup before she poured herself some tea and looked at it with a raised eyebrow. "Is this a new English tea they have yet to introduce on the continent?" She asked loftily as she sipped at the dark red drink.
Draco snorted and sipped at his own, a mischievous glint in his eye. "No, Grand-mère. It's a muggle bag tea."
It was absolutely perfect. Right on cue, Cassiopeia's face grew bright red and she promptly spit her mouthful out, spraying the paved stone of the patio with tea.
He refrained from laughing, but only just. Being the perfect gentlemen that he was, he handed her a linen napkin and didn't say a word.
Cassiopeia sent him a baleful look as she dabbed delicately at her lips. "You could have warned me, Draco."
"I apologize, Grand-mère. Had I known you would react like that, I would have." Not. He finished silently with a little bit of vindictive pleasure. It was a game they played. He'd won this round, but he was sure she'd win the next.
She huffed and straightened in her chair setting the red stained linen napkin down on the wrought-iron table and calling for another non-muggle pot of tea to be brought out. "How can you drink that swill, Draco?" She asked, with an edge of condescension. "It's revolting. Terrible creatures, muggles."
Draco just sat back in his chair and sipped at his tea. He'd been craving it and he hadn't known why. Now he did.
"I like the taste." He answered, discretion always being the better part of valor. "Harry introduced me to it."
"Ah." She said as if that explained everything. "Narcissa tells me you’re sleeping with him. It's serious, then?"
Draco shot her a look. Not only would his mother never say a thing like that, he knew that Cassiopeia knew damned well that it was serious. She'd always liked to shock, but she'd underestimated his frame of mind. He wasn't going to let her shock him.
"I doubt Mother said anything of the sort." He drawled, a curl of amusement in his voice. "And you know that I would hardly lay claim on his children if it wasn't frightfully serious." He could play flowery prose if he wanted. And right now, with this -weight- pressing on his mind, he wanted dearly to vent his panic on someone.
Too bad he picked his Grand-mère for the job.
"So, you're going to bond with him, then?" She inquired neutrally, but her shark-like triumph still showed through.
That stopped him cold. He hadn't even thought about bonding with Harry. The thought should frighten him, terrify him, make him run screaming, or take a step back, or even have a second thought, but it didn't. It just made him ache a little more.
The idea just made him want.
Want Harry and Teddy and James and Albus and Lily. Want them for his family with Scorpius, and his mother and father. Want those smiles, and that laughter, and those tears that they all promised him if he and Harry succeeded in growing old together.
And if he was-, he sipped at his tea to settle the sudden nausea that welled up, then he wanted Harry to be there, wanted his children to be there as well.
God, how he wanted it.
"We haven't discussed it." He answered with glaringly fake nonchalance. "We've not been in a relationship quite that long yet." And wasn't that the truth.
But, he guessed it was somewhat of a moot point now.
"Nonsense." Cassiopeia waved a dismissive hand at him. "No relationship is ever too new to discuss such things." She sipped at her tea. "Your grandfather asked me to bond with him three days after we met."
And look at what he ended up with, Draco thought cynically. That wasn't right, though. Abraxas had loved his wife to distraction. God only knows why, her being the harpy that she is. She loved him as well, though. His death had been very hard her.
"Perhaps that is how you and Grandfather preferred it, but Harry and I have had a rather long and combative relationship before now. We were by no means friends and on opposite sides of a war." He reminded her, because he knew that she remembered perfectly well. But a conversation with his Grand-mère could never be straight forward. That was how she liked it.
"Even so, mon cher. He seems like quite the catch." She commented airily, her eyes keen and watchful. He knew nothing good would come of this. "He seems like a wonderful father. You should want to claim him before you are too far along."
Draco had the most horrid feeling of being both breathless and nauseous at the same time. "I don't know what you mean?" He replied with as much calm aloofness as he could muster.
She just grinned. "Do not play with me, mon chéri. I was not born yesterday and I have been a mother much longer than you have been a father. Did you think I would not notice?" She asked sounding genuine for once in her life, genuinely curious though it may be.
"How can you have noticed something that I have not?" He asked hedging around, but not really answering her question. It was much easier than actually forcing himself to say the words, or even think them.
"Mustard on pancakes?" Cassiopeia looked at him with an incredulously raised eyebrow. "Horrid muggle tea from a bag? I think you excused yourself four times to the toilette last evening, as well."
She leaned across the table towards him, her eyes softening as she raised an elegant hand to cup his cheek. "You're pale and exhausted." A real smile curved beautifully on her perfectly painted lips as she murmured softly, almost tenderly, "And yet you glow."
His breath caught and he fought for control of himself. "Grand-mère." He whispered, voice strained and throat tight.
"You did not know?" She asked, but she knew the answer.
He tilted his head, her hand never leaving his cheek. It lent him comfort. "I didn't even think until a few days ago."
"Does he know?" She asked, her voice hushed. It felt like a moment for whispers and secrets. Of course that's partly what it was.
"That I might be-" He cut himself off and took a deep steadying breath. "No. But he knows that I can."
She nodded and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear before leaning back in her chair. "You have not been to see a Healer." She said.
"No." He sighed and leaned back in his own chair, not even daring to drink more of his tea. His stomach was churning much too much for it.
Cassiopeia looked at her grandson and saw his exhaustion, his fear, his hope. She was not a nice woman by nature and had married a much nicer man. But when it came to her Lucius and his Draco, and his Scorpius, she was able to find that little spring of kindness inside her and drink from it.
She stood from her seat and stepped over to him stroking a hand through his silvery hair. "You must know for sure, Draco." She murmured gently to him. "Once you know, it will not seem so scary." She cradled his face in her hands and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead before she released him and walked back into the Manor.
Draco just sat in his chair and stared out over the gardens knowing that she was right and that the time for ignorance and denial was past.
*
Albus sat in the grass in the backyard of Grimmauld place staring up at the night sky. It had been a while since he'd looked at the stars. They were pretty; he hadn't remembered quite how pretty they were.
Glancing over, Albus smiled a little as Scorpius sprawled out on his back and tucked his hands behind his head.
"Where's Scorpius?" He asked suddenly, lying down next to his friend.
The other boy turned his head slightly and flashed him a smile before looking back up at the sky and pointing at a curve of stars. "That's the tail and those are the pincers, see?"
Albus squinted up at the stars and tilted his head. "Yeah, I see it. That's cool." He flicked his eyes over to the blond boy and felt a small smile bend at his lips. "Do you know all the constellations?"
"Yeah." Scorpius smiled a little wistfully. "My dad used to take me out at night and show them to me."
Albus watched him for a moment before asking, "Doesn't he still do that?"
He shrugged. "We didn't do it all that often." He said, then turned to look at Albus and grinned. "Besides, I would like to have you all there next time."
"Really?" Albus asked, excitement and happiness building up in his chest. Scorpius was his best friend. It meant a lot to him that he wanted to share something special like that with him.
"Yeah." Scorpius smiled at him and turned back to continue looking up at the sky. "I want Dad to show you guys Draco, and Scorpius, and Orion, Leo, and Ursa Major too."
Albus couldn't help the silly grin that split his face at that. "There's a constellation for your dad, too?"
"Mm. It was a family tradition for the Blacks." Scorpius explained. "My grandmama was the only one in her family that was named after something different."
"That's pretty cool." Albus smiled.
They lay quietly for a time just watching the stars and moon. Albus listened to his siblings playing around them and the sound of their fathers' voices drifting toward them from the other end of the yard.
Tilting his head back until he could see them, he watched Draco sip at his mug of tea and his dad laugh at something he’d said. They seemed happy and relaxed.
"Do you think they're in love yet?" He asked distractedly still watching them upside down.
Scorpius rolled onto his stomach and looked at their dads too. "I think so. I've never seen my dad smile so much and Harry's always laughing. Besides, their always kissing each other too." He scrunched his nose in mild disgust. "They have to be in love."
Albus smiled and rolled onto his side so he could see their dads and Scorpius. "Do you think they'll get married?"
A guarded, reluctant expression flitted over Scorpius's face. "I don't know. My dad was married to my mother before."
"My dad was married to my mum, too." Albus said with a small frown. He didn't quite understand what had made Scorpius react like that. "Why would that make a difference?"
Scorpius shrugged and pulled a few blades of grass up from the ground, not meeting Albus's eyes. "My mother didn't really want me. That's why they divorced. Do you think anything will change if Dad and Harry get married?"
Albus felt his chest ache for his friend. "I don't think it will change." He said reaching over and grasping one of Scorpius's hands in his. "Dad still wants us even though mum left and your dad still wants you." He said reassuringly.
“Yeah, I know." Scorpius flashed him a wane smile before it melted away. "But do you think your dad will still like me if they get married?"
The ache in his chest grew impossibly more painful and he leaned over to wrap an arm around Scorpius's shoulders. "Dad will still like you, no matter what. I promise."
Scorpius leaned into him and sighed. It was a fear of his that one day his dad would realize that he didn't really like him and leave like his mother had. He'd thought he'd mostly gotten over it, but now he had a new person to fear rejection from. Several new people.
He didn't think he would be able to take it if Harry and Albus and James and Lily and Teddy decided that they didn't really like him. He'd been lonely for so long. The thought of going back to that made him want to cry.
But boys don't cry. Or, at least, they don't cry as much as girls, so he just squeezed Albus's hand thankfully and rolled onto his back so they could continue to watch the stars.
Albus knew that Scorpius wasn't completely convinced, so he just continued to hold his hand and tilted his head so that it was resting against Scorpius's shoulder. "I'll always like you, Scorpius." He glanced up and smiled at his best friend. "I promise."
Scorpius felt a lightening in his heart and smiled back. Right now, he didn't have anything to worry about. Right now, everything was perfect.
*
Harry couldn't take his eyes off of Draco. It was starting to get a little disconcerting. The moon was full and practically made Draco glow in its light.
His hair looked softer, brighter, his skin almost luminescent, and his eyes practically shone with happiness. He was absolutely beautiful.
Draco glanced at him distractedly, a small smile on his lips as he sipped at his tea. He seemed to be addicted to the stuff lately. It made Harry smile.
"What are you grinning at, Potter?" He asked with wary amusement.
Shaking his head, Harry lifted his scotch to his lips and took a sip. "Nothing. Just you." He said and let his eyes slide back to Draco as if drawn by a magnet.
"What? Have I got flour on my nose or something?" Draco asked with a drawling smirk.
Harry just shook his head and smiled. He wasn't going to tell Draco he looked so down right adorable with that smudge of powered sugar on his cheek that he didn't have the heart to wipe it away for him. "No. It just looks like you're glowing under the moonlight." He murmured with a tender glint in his eyes.
Draco’s expression of humor melted a little until an uncertainty and nervousness invaded his gaze. "I'm glowing, eh?" He asked in an unreadable tone of voice.
Frowning, Harry leaned over and cupped his cheek, pulling him into a gentle, languid kiss. His lips opening just the barest amount so that he could nip at Draco's caressingly. "You look beautiful." He murmured against his mouth.
Draco's breath had caught in his throat when their mouths met and now his eyes were half lidded and glazed. "Boys aren't beautiful, Potter." He murmured in return, his amusement filtering back into his voice and gaze.
"Handsome, then." Harry grinned unrepentantly as he threaded his fingers through Draco's amazingly soft hair. "Mesmerizingly handsome."
With a light scoff and an eye roll, Draco leaned back in pulling Harry's bottom lip between his own and favoring it with a teasing lick. "You're so sappy, Harry. How do I put up with you?"
That only earned him wide grin before Harry deepened their kiss. He didn't mind being sappy if it made Draco smile. He didn't mind it one bit.
*
Draco sat in a tortuously uncomfortable chair in the General Practice wing of St. Mungo's. His leg would not stop bouncing nervously and his glamour felt heavy and stifling. His heart was beating just a smidgen fast and he felt as if he was on the verge of hyperventilation.
Of course, nobody saw any of this. On the outside he was poised, cool, composed... and a brunet with hazel eyes.
He couldn't imagine what would happen if he showed up at St. Mungo's as himself and it got out. The press would have a field day. They hadn't stopped their harassing ways after the war. There were gossip columns forever being written about him and his family, Harry and his family. Really, no one even remotely note worthy was spared.
So, here he was. Glamoured with brown hair, plain hazel eyes, a slightly crooked nose and a wholly unremarkable chin. He looked like any average Joe Shmoe. It was perfect. Of course he was still dressed impeccably. Just because you were unrecognizable didn't mean that a Malfoy could be seen in public dressed any other way.
A young, kind looking nurse stepped out from behind the desk with a file open in her hands.
"Evans, James? We're ready for you." She said to the waiting room at large waiting for the aforementioned patient to step forward.
Draco stood gracefully from his seat and strode toward her with a polite nod. She smiled at him and directed him to one of the examination rooms.
Inside pretty much looked like every other hospital room he'd ever been to. White. And gray. Very boring and bland. There were two visitor chairs that matched the ones in the waiting room and a larger one with rollers on the legs in front of a small desk. The examination table was at the far end of the room and covered in a long sheet of sterile, thin parchment.
"Healer Strohs will be with you in just a moment." The nurse informed him kindly before she slid his file into the slot on the front of the door and shut it behind her.
Draco let out a shaky breath and nervously tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. This was it, he thought. A faint ball of excitement bounced a little in his belly.
Shaking his head, he had to smile just the tiniest bit as he relaxed in another uncomfortable chair to await the healer.
Soon enough, the door opened again and a middle aged man with a receding hairline and a bit of a belly strode in wearing a healer's white robe and reading Draco's file.
"Good morning." He said as he sat down in the larger chair without looking up from the file. There was a small frown on his face. "I'm Healer Strohs. What can I do for you today?"
For the first time the man glanced up and met Draco's glamoured eyes with his. He seemed professional, stern, no nonsense, fair. Draco felt himself relax just a smidgen more.
Draco flashed him a greeting smile and nodded his head. "Good morning. Actually, I would like to ask you a few questions before we get started." He said, casually nonchalant.
The healer flicked his eyes down to the fabricated file in his hand and back up to the man sitting opposite him. There were holes in the paperwork he'd received on this patient and something in the way the man held himself didn't seem quite right for his appearance. Almost too refined for his rather common face.
"Alright." Healer Strohs nodded and leaned back in his seat propping his elbow up on the small desk next to him. "Go ahead, Mr. Evans."
Draco nodded again and took an imperceptible, deep breath. "I'm sure you've noticed a few discrepancies with my file." He said and waited for the healer to nod before continuing. "That is because I do not wish for my identity to be known until I'm sure that I can trust you."
He had put all of his cards on the table and was now waiting for the healer to acknowledge them or fold.
Healer Strohs studied the man, Mr. James Evans, for a time before straightening his posture. "I have taken a Healer's oath to help all those in need of my services. To never harm another being while I am under the title of Healer." He stated very precisely and very unwavering. "I assure you, Mr. Evans, that I take my duties, my job, and my oath very seriously."
Draco felt a lightening in his chest and had to keep himself from sighing in relief. He met the healer's eyes once again and stared directly into them when he asked, "Does that also apply to former Death Eaters?"
One of the healer's eyebrows rose and that was the only indication of emotion other than professionalism that moved over him. He sat back in his chair again and Draco could tell that he was searching his glamoured face again for any hint of recognition.
"The war is long over, Mr. Evans. Most have moved on from it. I would no more turn away a former Death Eater than I would the Minister of Magic. They are both beings and have long since been deemed equal."
This time it was Draco's turn to raise an eyebrow. That was a most satisfactory answer if ever he heard one. He let himself smirk a little. "I'm glad you think so." He said and let his glamour drop.
He tensed waiting for the healer's reaction. All he got was a visual once over and an unimpressed look. It made him feel inordinately better.
"I assume there is a reason for all of this subterfuge other than your obvious notoriety?" The healer inquired neutrally.
Draco smirked again and nodded. "I believe so, but before we get to that, I have brought my real medical files with me." He reached into the inside of his robe and withdrew a moderately thick file with bent and loose papers peaking out of the sides.
Healer Strohs reached over and took it from him. He flipped it open to the beginning and began to review it. He hummed and skimmed his finger over an entry here and there until he frowned once and glanced up.
"You had the dragon pox at the age of seven." He stated.
"Yes." Draco nodded and folded his hands in his lap. "I was hospitalized for a fortnight until I stopped sneezing sparks from my nose." He grinned a little in amusement. "It was not a very serious case."
Healer Strohs glanced back down at the file. "So it would seem," He drawled, reminding Draco just the littlest bit of Snape. It made him like the healer even more.
"You were hospitalized once more for a broken arm at the age of eleven." He inquired, eyes not leaving the sheets in front of him.
Draco shifted a little uncomfortably. "Ah, yes. I was thrown from a horse."
Strohs pinned him with his gaze from over the file before turning back to it. "Let's see... A sprained wrist and bruised tailbone in your second year at Hogwarts." He'd moved on to Madam Pomfrey's notes.
"Quidditch." He answered brusquely, then grumbled, "Didn't even catch the Snitch in that one."
The healer let out a snort of amusement before he turned the page and continued on. His eyes widened a little and Draco had to force himself not react. "You were attacked by a hippogriff?"
Draco rolled his eyes then. "Yeah. Bloody chicken slashed my arm open."
Healer Strohs stared at him for a minute before deciding that he really didn't want to ask and turned back to his reading. That was when he got the biggest surprise of all.
"You're a Matris?" He asked turning his eyes once more on a suddenly very composed and calm Draco Malfoy.
He nodded. "Yes. It had been assumed that the trait was extinct in my family and came as a bit of a surprise when I started exhibiting the signs of a maturing Matris." God, what a terrifying surprise that had been.
"I can imagine that it was very shocking." Healer Strohs agreed diplomatically before turning back to the file and reading on.
"Nothing more of interest, it looks like..." He trailed off when he got to an entry from Draco's fifth year. "You were admitted to the hospital wing for a severe nosebleed in your fifth year." He looked up for clarification.
Draco scowled and a snarl pulled at his lips surprising the healer with its angered vehemence. "That would have been a rather powerful Bat-Bogey hex." He said through gritted teeth. God, he hated the Weaslette even more now for what she did to Harry and the children, but having that incident brought up just made the hatred boil hotter.
Healer Strohs quickly looked away and chose not to ask what exactly a "bat-bogey hex" was. It didn't seem wise at that time.
There was only one entry left from Madam Pomfrey's meticulous notes and it made the Healer stiffen in alarm. When he spoke, his voice was professional, but he was apprehensive of what the answer to his inquiry might be.
"Near the end of your sixth year, you suffered from a Dark curse that lacerated your chest causing severe damage and blood loss. Upon admittance, you were then treated for exhaustion and malnutrition." Whatever he was expecting from his new patient, he didn't get it.
Draco just nodded calmly and looked him in the eyes. "It was a Dark curse that created sword-like slashes across my chest. At that time I was struggling to perform an impossible task, failing at the risk of losing my family and my life; stress that would account for the exhaustion and malnutrition." He said, voice emotionless.
Healer Strohs simply nodded and flipped through the rest of the papers. "It says you were admitted here at St. Mungo's on the night of the Final Battle. You were treated for first and second degree burns, a black eye, and some minor nicks and scrapes."
Draco met his questioning gaze and fought down the old pain he often felt when thinking about that night. "I was caught in a room being devoured by Fiendfyre and received a black eye during the battle, obviously." He rolled his eyes, to cover up his discomfort.
Healer Strohs didn't say any more on this entry and there was nothing of interest in the rest of the file. Their family healer had retired some years ago, hence the reason why Mr. Malfoy was now sitting in his examination room.
"Is there anything that wouldn't be in this file?" He asked.
Draco nodded again. "I have a seven year-old son from my ex-wife and I'm in an intimate relationship." No need to specify just how intimate. The healer knew what he meant.
"With a man or a woman?" He asked making a quick notation on a new sheet he'd spelled into the file.
Draco smirked and stretched in the uncomfortable chair. "Definitely a man." He drawled causing the healer to give him a disapproving look for his display. He only chuckled.
"Alright, Mr. Malfoy. Are you here for a general check-up or for a specific ailment?" He asked turning back to his patient and pushing the file aside.
Draco straightened as well and once again, a flicker of nervousness entered his face. "Both actually."
Strohs nodded and turned back to the file picking up the muggle pen he'd set beside it. He found them quicker and neater than carting around a quill and ink-well. "What are your symptoms?"
He received a small awkward cough before the other man started to answer. "Frequent urination, exhaustion, strange cravings, increased appetite, and oversensitivity to smell."
Pausing in his note taking, Strohs glanced up at his patient and met his unreadable eyes. "Alright." He said slowly. "Let's move onto the check-up, shall we?"
Draco agreed and stood up to slip his outer robe off before seating himself on the examination table.
"First, I would like to have a look at your Dark Mark and the area affected by the Dark curse to make sure there isn't any lingering Dark magic." Strohs told him and Draco started to unbutton his dress shirt without having him ask.
Slipping it off his shoulders, Draco shook out the wrinkles and draped it next to him on the table in a practiced move. Storhs waited until he was finished before he moved forward with his wand and began his preliminary scans and diagnostic spells.
Draco sat patiently and did everything he was asked. He breathed deep, he coughed, he raised his arm, he wiggled his toes, he stuck out tongue and said "aaaaaaa". Through it all he was getting more and more jittery waiting for the time when the healer began to actually scan for the cause of his symptoms.
Strohs stepped back after his general check-up and nodded making another notation on his file. "You seem to be in perfect health. A tad thin, but still within your healthy weight range."
"Good. Can you see to diagnosing my symptoms, now?" He asked just this side of barely polite.
Unruffled, Strohs simply gave him an amused smile before raising his wand once more and starting a more complicated diagnostic spell from his head all the way down to...
He stopped when he reached Draco's belly and started to murmur off another volley of spells. Draco was about to start biting his nails. A very un-Malfoy, Potter-like habit. He sat on his hands.
It seemed to take forever, but finally the healer refocused his attention on Draco as a whole and holstered his wand. "Mr. Malfoy, after numerous scans and spells I have come to the conclusion that you are-"
"Pregnant." The word left him like a weight tumbling from his shoulders. He could almost feel the stress unwinding from his tense muscles and the panic fleeing his belly. Once he'd said it, once it had been confirmed the thought of being pregnant didn't seem like such a frightening thing after all. He let a small smile curve at his lips.
Healer Strohs watched the emotions and thoughts flit over his patient's face for a moment before speaking again. "You are pregnant, yes." He finished. "I take it that this was not a surprise?"
Draco turned his unwavering eyes on the healer and snorted wryly. "Actually, it's a complete surprise."
That made the older man frown in puzzlement. "But not an unpleasant surprise." He commented taking in Draco's still slightly smiling mouth and twinkling eyes.
"No." He shook his head and began to tug his shirt back on. "No, not unpleasant at all. Just unexpected."
Understanding softened Strohs's face and he nodded sagely. "The muggle prophylactic devices aren't nearly as-" He was cut off by a half amused, half disgusted bark of laughter.
Draco quickly cut his hilarity down to a stifled chuckle as he buttoned up his shirt and tucked it back into his trousers. "I'm sorry, but no." He smirked, humor plain in his eyes. "There were no -muggle- devices being used. We used Tutela Fertilitas."
The healer raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Are you quite sure? Tutela Fertilitas is one of the most affective contraceptive spells in the magical world."
"Yes, I'm aware." Draco drawled amusedly. "That's why we used it. However, it seems to have found the couple it could not conquer."
He still could not believe that spell would have malfunctioned. Mr. Malfoy didn't seem too surprised, but he couldn't think of a single thing that would render it useless. "Did you use it on more than one occasion or different spells on different occasions?"
A light blush colored Draco's pale cheeks as he hopped off the table and retrieved his outer robe. "Same spell, all occasions." He answered quickly. "And we did not forget a single casting." He added because he could see the next question on the tip of the healer's tongue.
"I don't understand." Healer Strohs admitted. "That should not have happened. The spell should have made conception impossible."
A strange look came of Draco's face as he seated himself in his previously vacated seat. "The impossible is always possible in some capacity, Healer Strohs. I think your questions will be answered when you meet my," he didn't quite know what to call Harry to this man, he settled for, "lover."
It didn't sound as fleeting as boyfriend, nor as sterile as partner, they weren't married yet so he couldn't call him husband, but lover seemed to work. He did love Harry an exorbitant amount.
Shifting his mind back on the present, he turned to the healer. "Now that we've established that I have defied the odds, what else did your spells show you?"
Healer Strohs nodded in acknowledgement of the subject change and seated himself in his chair. "You are near to five and a half weeks pregnant. The baby is strong and healthy, as you appear to be as well. I would like you to start taking a once daily prenatal supplement potion. It's standard in all first pregnancies." He assured him when Draco's brow furrowed. "The potion guarantees that the baby is receiving the nutrients it needs as your body and magic adapt to pregnancy for the first time. You will be taken off of it, most likely near to the end of your first trimester."
Draco's frown cleared and he motioned for the healer to continue. As long as nothing was wrong with the baby there was no need to panic.
Healer Strohs pulled a sheet of parchment out of a drawer in the little desk and handed it over. "This is a list of foods and activities you should avoid."
It was all standard fair really, Draco thought as he scanned it quickly. No alcohol, raw meat, pipe smoking, or picking up cat poop. Literally.
He glanced up at the healer. "I shouldn't come in contact with feline feces?" He raised an eyebrow. Not that it was a problem for him. They didn't even own a cat.
Strohs gave a slightly amused cough before sobering somewhat quickly. "It can cause severe birth defects."
There was a sudden sinking feeling in his gut. "Should I stay away from cats in general, then? Should I be avoiding all animals?"
"Animal contact should not be a problem, unless you plan on cleaning up after them." He clarified with a reassuring voice.
"What about reptiles?" Came the unexpected question. "Snakes and birds." Draco clarified. "We have a rather large flock of white peacocks at the Manor and I handle owls on a regular basis."
Healer Strohs stared at him for a moment before deciding that this was one of those things he would just have to wait for an explanation. "Once again, it should be fine."
Draco nodded and seemed inordinately relieved. "Is there anything else?" He asked.
"I would like to have you come in every month for a check-up, then every two weeks in your final trimester." He said as he stood and held out a hand for Draco to shake.
"Of course. Would it be alright if I continue making appointments under the name of James Evans?" He asked as they shook hands. "It would be very problematic if the Prophet found out."
"That shouldn't be a problem." Strohs nodded. "Just make an appointment with the front desk. I'll keep your files under that name as well."
Draco gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you. I'll see you then." He murmured a spell and his glamour flowed over his face seamlessly before he turned to the door and disappeared out of it.
The healer watched him go for a moment before shaking his head in wonder. Never had he thought one of the most famous Death Eaters and war veterans would step through his door. It was astonishing really.
He'd always heard that the Malfoys were Dark and manipulative and rather intimidating. Of course now that Harry Potter had vouched for them at their trial, there was a lot less said about them that would hint at misconduct or corruption.
There were still whispers, as to be expected, but not as many as there had been before the Second War. From what he'd seen of young Draco Malfoy, he was pure-blooded to be sure, proud, a little arrogant, cocky, and generally like anyone else that had stepped into his office.
It will be interesting to continue being his healer, Strohs decided. He was a very intriguing young man as it was.
Shaking his head at his own thoughts, Healer Strohs slipped Draco Malfoy's file inside the James Evans file and banished it to the alphabetical patient records. It slipped smoothly between the Evalopes and the Everettes.
*
1 mon petit chou : my little cabbage
TBC...
Chapter Twenty-Two
Masterpost
Author: alexjanna91
Pairing: H/D, past H/G and D/A mentioned
Rating: PG-13 (overall)
Genre: Au, Romance, Post-Hogwarts/War
Warnings: SS(PS)-DH compliant, EWE, future m-preg, reference and discussion of difficult topics
Word Count: (For this Ch.) 6,228
Disclaimer: HP is not mine. Plot and OCs for this fic are though.
Status: WIP
Summary: After his wife leaves him and abandons their children abruptly, Harry doesn't think he or his kids will ever be able to heal. But a chance meeting with an old nemesis and his son in Diagon, various childish schemes, and a little bit of quick upheaval make Harry realize that just maybe everything isn't as irreparable or dire as he thought.
A/N: Inspired by the classic movies Houseboat (1958) and Yours, Mine, and Ours (1968). I love fics with their kids in them and have never really written one before for this fandom. This idea just came to me while I was watching Houseboat and started flowing like water. I hope you all enjoy this one!
Chapter Twenty
***Chapter Twenty-One***
Draco spent the next few days after his surprising semi-revelation in Fortescue’s trying to forget he ever had it to begin with.
It wasn't that he was unhappy with the idea that he was... It was just that he was- a little panicked about it. They'd done everything right. Contraceptive spells are as near to fool proof as you can get.
He scoffed to himself and sipped at his Zinger tea. They may be fool proof, but apparently they weren't Potter proof. Honestly.
Another thing he really did not particularly want to think about was what he was going to do. If his suspicions were correct, then that was it. He would do everything in his power to make sure that nothing went wrong, that everything was perfect, or as perfect as a thing like this could be, and he would... love the child like he loved Scorpius… and Albus, and James, and Teddy, and Lily.
What would Harry say, though? What would he do? Or think?
"Ah, mon petit chou1." A lilting accented voice said from just behind him. "Do you mind if I join you for a cup of tea?"
Glancing over his shoulder, Draco flashed one of his most charming smiles at his Grand-mère. "Not at all." He said, gesturing to the free chair beside him. "Have a seat."
Cassiopeia seated herself primly and called up a house-elf for another tea cup before she poured herself some tea and looked at it with a raised eyebrow. "Is this a new English tea they have yet to introduce on the continent?" She asked loftily as she sipped at the dark red drink.
Draco snorted and sipped at his own, a mischievous glint in his eye. "No, Grand-mère. It's a muggle bag tea."
It was absolutely perfect. Right on cue, Cassiopeia's face grew bright red and she promptly spit her mouthful out, spraying the paved stone of the patio with tea.
He refrained from laughing, but only just. Being the perfect gentlemen that he was, he handed her a linen napkin and didn't say a word.
Cassiopeia sent him a baleful look as she dabbed delicately at her lips. "You could have warned me, Draco."
"I apologize, Grand-mère. Had I known you would react like that, I would have." Not. He finished silently with a little bit of vindictive pleasure. It was a game they played. He'd won this round, but he was sure she'd win the next.
She huffed and straightened in her chair setting the red stained linen napkin down on the wrought-iron table and calling for another non-muggle pot of tea to be brought out. "How can you drink that swill, Draco?" She asked, with an edge of condescension. "It's revolting. Terrible creatures, muggles."
Draco just sat back in his chair and sipped at his tea. He'd been craving it and he hadn't known why. Now he did.
"I like the taste." He answered, discretion always being the better part of valor. "Harry introduced me to it."
"Ah." She said as if that explained everything. "Narcissa tells me you’re sleeping with him. It's serious, then?"
Draco shot her a look. Not only would his mother never say a thing like that, he knew that Cassiopeia knew damned well that it was serious. She'd always liked to shock, but she'd underestimated his frame of mind. He wasn't going to let her shock him.
"I doubt Mother said anything of the sort." He drawled, a curl of amusement in his voice. "And you know that I would hardly lay claim on his children if it wasn't frightfully serious." He could play flowery prose if he wanted. And right now, with this -weight- pressing on his mind, he wanted dearly to vent his panic on someone.
Too bad he picked his Grand-mère for the job.
"So, you're going to bond with him, then?" She inquired neutrally, but her shark-like triumph still showed through.
That stopped him cold. He hadn't even thought about bonding with Harry. The thought should frighten him, terrify him, make him run screaming, or take a step back, or even have a second thought, but it didn't. It just made him ache a little more.
The idea just made him want.
Want Harry and Teddy and James and Albus and Lily. Want them for his family with Scorpius, and his mother and father. Want those smiles, and that laughter, and those tears that they all promised him if he and Harry succeeded in growing old together.
And if he was-, he sipped at his tea to settle the sudden nausea that welled up, then he wanted Harry to be there, wanted his children to be there as well.
God, how he wanted it.
"We haven't discussed it." He answered with glaringly fake nonchalance. "We've not been in a relationship quite that long yet." And wasn't that the truth.
But, he guessed it was somewhat of a moot point now.
"Nonsense." Cassiopeia waved a dismissive hand at him. "No relationship is ever too new to discuss such things." She sipped at her tea. "Your grandfather asked me to bond with him three days after we met."
And look at what he ended up with, Draco thought cynically. That wasn't right, though. Abraxas had loved his wife to distraction. God only knows why, her being the harpy that she is. She loved him as well, though. His death had been very hard her.
"Perhaps that is how you and Grandfather preferred it, but Harry and I have had a rather long and combative relationship before now. We were by no means friends and on opposite sides of a war." He reminded her, because he knew that she remembered perfectly well. But a conversation with his Grand-mère could never be straight forward. That was how she liked it.
"Even so, mon cher. He seems like quite the catch." She commented airily, her eyes keen and watchful. He knew nothing good would come of this. "He seems like a wonderful father. You should want to claim him before you are too far along."
Draco had the most horrid feeling of being both breathless and nauseous at the same time. "I don't know what you mean?" He replied with as much calm aloofness as he could muster.
She just grinned. "Do not play with me, mon chéri. I was not born yesterday and I have been a mother much longer than you have been a father. Did you think I would not notice?" She asked sounding genuine for once in her life, genuinely curious though it may be.
"How can you have noticed something that I have not?" He asked hedging around, but not really answering her question. It was much easier than actually forcing himself to say the words, or even think them.
"Mustard on pancakes?" Cassiopeia looked at him with an incredulously raised eyebrow. "Horrid muggle tea from a bag? I think you excused yourself four times to the toilette last evening, as well."
She leaned across the table towards him, her eyes softening as she raised an elegant hand to cup his cheek. "You're pale and exhausted." A real smile curved beautifully on her perfectly painted lips as she murmured softly, almost tenderly, "And yet you glow."
His breath caught and he fought for control of himself. "Grand-mère." He whispered, voice strained and throat tight.
"You did not know?" She asked, but she knew the answer.
He tilted his head, her hand never leaving his cheek. It lent him comfort. "I didn't even think until a few days ago."
"Does he know?" She asked, her voice hushed. It felt like a moment for whispers and secrets. Of course that's partly what it was.
"That I might be-" He cut himself off and took a deep steadying breath. "No. But he knows that I can."
She nodded and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear before leaning back in her chair. "You have not been to see a Healer." She said.
"No." He sighed and leaned back in his own chair, not even daring to drink more of his tea. His stomach was churning much too much for it.
Cassiopeia looked at her grandson and saw his exhaustion, his fear, his hope. She was not a nice woman by nature and had married a much nicer man. But when it came to her Lucius and his Draco, and his Scorpius, she was able to find that little spring of kindness inside her and drink from it.
She stood from her seat and stepped over to him stroking a hand through his silvery hair. "You must know for sure, Draco." She murmured gently to him. "Once you know, it will not seem so scary." She cradled his face in her hands and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead before she released him and walked back into the Manor.
Draco just sat in his chair and stared out over the gardens knowing that she was right and that the time for ignorance and denial was past.
*
Albus sat in the grass in the backyard of Grimmauld place staring up at the night sky. It had been a while since he'd looked at the stars. They were pretty; he hadn't remembered quite how pretty they were.
Glancing over, Albus smiled a little as Scorpius sprawled out on his back and tucked his hands behind his head.
"Where's Scorpius?" He asked suddenly, lying down next to his friend.
The other boy turned his head slightly and flashed him a smile before looking back up at the sky and pointing at a curve of stars. "That's the tail and those are the pincers, see?"
Albus squinted up at the stars and tilted his head. "Yeah, I see it. That's cool." He flicked his eyes over to the blond boy and felt a small smile bend at his lips. "Do you know all the constellations?"
"Yeah." Scorpius smiled a little wistfully. "My dad used to take me out at night and show them to me."
Albus watched him for a moment before asking, "Doesn't he still do that?"
He shrugged. "We didn't do it all that often." He said, then turned to look at Albus and grinned. "Besides, I would like to have you all there next time."
"Really?" Albus asked, excitement and happiness building up in his chest. Scorpius was his best friend. It meant a lot to him that he wanted to share something special like that with him.
"Yeah." Scorpius smiled at him and turned back to continue looking up at the sky. "I want Dad to show you guys Draco, and Scorpius, and Orion, Leo, and Ursa Major too."
Albus couldn't help the silly grin that split his face at that. "There's a constellation for your dad, too?"
"Mm. It was a family tradition for the Blacks." Scorpius explained. "My grandmama was the only one in her family that was named after something different."
"That's pretty cool." Albus smiled.
They lay quietly for a time just watching the stars and moon. Albus listened to his siblings playing around them and the sound of their fathers' voices drifting toward them from the other end of the yard.
Tilting his head back until he could see them, he watched Draco sip at his mug of tea and his dad laugh at something he’d said. They seemed happy and relaxed.
"Do you think they're in love yet?" He asked distractedly still watching them upside down.
Scorpius rolled onto his stomach and looked at their dads too. "I think so. I've never seen my dad smile so much and Harry's always laughing. Besides, their always kissing each other too." He scrunched his nose in mild disgust. "They have to be in love."
Albus smiled and rolled onto his side so he could see their dads and Scorpius. "Do you think they'll get married?"
A guarded, reluctant expression flitted over Scorpius's face. "I don't know. My dad was married to my mother before."
"My dad was married to my mum, too." Albus said with a small frown. He didn't quite understand what had made Scorpius react like that. "Why would that make a difference?"
Scorpius shrugged and pulled a few blades of grass up from the ground, not meeting Albus's eyes. "My mother didn't really want me. That's why they divorced. Do you think anything will change if Dad and Harry get married?"
Albus felt his chest ache for his friend. "I don't think it will change." He said reaching over and grasping one of Scorpius's hands in his. "Dad still wants us even though mum left and your dad still wants you." He said reassuringly.
“Yeah, I know." Scorpius flashed him a wane smile before it melted away. "But do you think your dad will still like me if they get married?"
The ache in his chest grew impossibly more painful and he leaned over to wrap an arm around Scorpius's shoulders. "Dad will still like you, no matter what. I promise."
Scorpius leaned into him and sighed. It was a fear of his that one day his dad would realize that he didn't really like him and leave like his mother had. He'd thought he'd mostly gotten over it, but now he had a new person to fear rejection from. Several new people.
He didn't think he would be able to take it if Harry and Albus and James and Lily and Teddy decided that they didn't really like him. He'd been lonely for so long. The thought of going back to that made him want to cry.
But boys don't cry. Or, at least, they don't cry as much as girls, so he just squeezed Albus's hand thankfully and rolled onto his back so they could continue to watch the stars.
Albus knew that Scorpius wasn't completely convinced, so he just continued to hold his hand and tilted his head so that it was resting against Scorpius's shoulder. "I'll always like you, Scorpius." He glanced up and smiled at his best friend. "I promise."
Scorpius felt a lightening in his heart and smiled back. Right now, he didn't have anything to worry about. Right now, everything was perfect.
*
Harry couldn't take his eyes off of Draco. It was starting to get a little disconcerting. The moon was full and practically made Draco glow in its light.
His hair looked softer, brighter, his skin almost luminescent, and his eyes practically shone with happiness. He was absolutely beautiful.
Draco glanced at him distractedly, a small smile on his lips as he sipped at his tea. He seemed to be addicted to the stuff lately. It made Harry smile.
"What are you grinning at, Potter?" He asked with wary amusement.
Shaking his head, Harry lifted his scotch to his lips and took a sip. "Nothing. Just you." He said and let his eyes slide back to Draco as if drawn by a magnet.
"What? Have I got flour on my nose or something?" Draco asked with a drawling smirk.
Harry just shook his head and smiled. He wasn't going to tell Draco he looked so down right adorable with that smudge of powered sugar on his cheek that he didn't have the heart to wipe it away for him. "No. It just looks like you're glowing under the moonlight." He murmured with a tender glint in his eyes.
Draco’s expression of humor melted a little until an uncertainty and nervousness invaded his gaze. "I'm glowing, eh?" He asked in an unreadable tone of voice.
Frowning, Harry leaned over and cupped his cheek, pulling him into a gentle, languid kiss. His lips opening just the barest amount so that he could nip at Draco's caressingly. "You look beautiful." He murmured against his mouth.
Draco's breath had caught in his throat when their mouths met and now his eyes were half lidded and glazed. "Boys aren't beautiful, Potter." He murmured in return, his amusement filtering back into his voice and gaze.
"Handsome, then." Harry grinned unrepentantly as he threaded his fingers through Draco's amazingly soft hair. "Mesmerizingly handsome."
With a light scoff and an eye roll, Draco leaned back in pulling Harry's bottom lip between his own and favoring it with a teasing lick. "You're so sappy, Harry. How do I put up with you?"
That only earned him wide grin before Harry deepened their kiss. He didn't mind being sappy if it made Draco smile. He didn't mind it one bit.
*
Draco sat in a tortuously uncomfortable chair in the General Practice wing of St. Mungo's. His leg would not stop bouncing nervously and his glamour felt heavy and stifling. His heart was beating just a smidgen fast and he felt as if he was on the verge of hyperventilation.
Of course, nobody saw any of this. On the outside he was poised, cool, composed... and a brunet with hazel eyes.
He couldn't imagine what would happen if he showed up at St. Mungo's as himself and it got out. The press would have a field day. They hadn't stopped their harassing ways after the war. There were gossip columns forever being written about him and his family, Harry and his family. Really, no one even remotely note worthy was spared.
So, here he was. Glamoured with brown hair, plain hazel eyes, a slightly crooked nose and a wholly unremarkable chin. He looked like any average Joe Shmoe. It was perfect. Of course he was still dressed impeccably. Just because you were unrecognizable didn't mean that a Malfoy could be seen in public dressed any other way.
A young, kind looking nurse stepped out from behind the desk with a file open in her hands.
"Evans, James? We're ready for you." She said to the waiting room at large waiting for the aforementioned patient to step forward.
Draco stood gracefully from his seat and strode toward her with a polite nod. She smiled at him and directed him to one of the examination rooms.
Inside pretty much looked like every other hospital room he'd ever been to. White. And gray. Very boring and bland. There were two visitor chairs that matched the ones in the waiting room and a larger one with rollers on the legs in front of a small desk. The examination table was at the far end of the room and covered in a long sheet of sterile, thin parchment.
"Healer Strohs will be with you in just a moment." The nurse informed him kindly before she slid his file into the slot on the front of the door and shut it behind her.
Draco let out a shaky breath and nervously tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. This was it, he thought. A faint ball of excitement bounced a little in his belly.
Shaking his head, he had to smile just the tiniest bit as he relaxed in another uncomfortable chair to await the healer.
Soon enough, the door opened again and a middle aged man with a receding hairline and a bit of a belly strode in wearing a healer's white robe and reading Draco's file.
"Good morning." He said as he sat down in the larger chair without looking up from the file. There was a small frown on his face. "I'm Healer Strohs. What can I do for you today?"
For the first time the man glanced up and met Draco's glamoured eyes with his. He seemed professional, stern, no nonsense, fair. Draco felt himself relax just a smidgen more.
Draco flashed him a greeting smile and nodded his head. "Good morning. Actually, I would like to ask you a few questions before we get started." He said, casually nonchalant.
The healer flicked his eyes down to the fabricated file in his hand and back up to the man sitting opposite him. There were holes in the paperwork he'd received on this patient and something in the way the man held himself didn't seem quite right for his appearance. Almost too refined for his rather common face.
"Alright." Healer Strohs nodded and leaned back in his seat propping his elbow up on the small desk next to him. "Go ahead, Mr. Evans."
Draco nodded again and took an imperceptible, deep breath. "I'm sure you've noticed a few discrepancies with my file." He said and waited for the healer to nod before continuing. "That is because I do not wish for my identity to be known until I'm sure that I can trust you."
He had put all of his cards on the table and was now waiting for the healer to acknowledge them or fold.
Healer Strohs studied the man, Mr. James Evans, for a time before straightening his posture. "I have taken a Healer's oath to help all those in need of my services. To never harm another being while I am under the title of Healer." He stated very precisely and very unwavering. "I assure you, Mr. Evans, that I take my duties, my job, and my oath very seriously."
Draco felt a lightening in his chest and had to keep himself from sighing in relief. He met the healer's eyes once again and stared directly into them when he asked, "Does that also apply to former Death Eaters?"
One of the healer's eyebrows rose and that was the only indication of emotion other than professionalism that moved over him. He sat back in his chair again and Draco could tell that he was searching his glamoured face again for any hint of recognition.
"The war is long over, Mr. Evans. Most have moved on from it. I would no more turn away a former Death Eater than I would the Minister of Magic. They are both beings and have long since been deemed equal."
This time it was Draco's turn to raise an eyebrow. That was a most satisfactory answer if ever he heard one. He let himself smirk a little. "I'm glad you think so." He said and let his glamour drop.
He tensed waiting for the healer's reaction. All he got was a visual once over and an unimpressed look. It made him feel inordinately better.
"I assume there is a reason for all of this subterfuge other than your obvious notoriety?" The healer inquired neutrally.
Draco smirked again and nodded. "I believe so, but before we get to that, I have brought my real medical files with me." He reached into the inside of his robe and withdrew a moderately thick file with bent and loose papers peaking out of the sides.
Healer Strohs reached over and took it from him. He flipped it open to the beginning and began to review it. He hummed and skimmed his finger over an entry here and there until he frowned once and glanced up.
"You had the dragon pox at the age of seven." He stated.
"Yes." Draco nodded and folded his hands in his lap. "I was hospitalized for a fortnight until I stopped sneezing sparks from my nose." He grinned a little in amusement. "It was not a very serious case."
Healer Strohs glanced back down at the file. "So it would seem," He drawled, reminding Draco just the littlest bit of Snape. It made him like the healer even more.
"You were hospitalized once more for a broken arm at the age of eleven." He inquired, eyes not leaving the sheets in front of him.
Draco shifted a little uncomfortably. "Ah, yes. I was thrown from a horse."
Strohs pinned him with his gaze from over the file before turning back to it. "Let's see... A sprained wrist and bruised tailbone in your second year at Hogwarts." He'd moved on to Madam Pomfrey's notes.
"Quidditch." He answered brusquely, then grumbled, "Didn't even catch the Snitch in that one."
The healer let out a snort of amusement before he turned the page and continued on. His eyes widened a little and Draco had to force himself not react. "You were attacked by a hippogriff?"
Draco rolled his eyes then. "Yeah. Bloody chicken slashed my arm open."
Healer Strohs stared at him for a minute before deciding that he really didn't want to ask and turned back to his reading. That was when he got the biggest surprise of all.
"You're a Matris?" He asked turning his eyes once more on a suddenly very composed and calm Draco Malfoy.
He nodded. "Yes. It had been assumed that the trait was extinct in my family and came as a bit of a surprise when I started exhibiting the signs of a maturing Matris." God, what a terrifying surprise that had been.
"I can imagine that it was very shocking." Healer Strohs agreed diplomatically before turning back to the file and reading on.
"Nothing more of interest, it looks like..." He trailed off when he got to an entry from Draco's fifth year. "You were admitted to the hospital wing for a severe nosebleed in your fifth year." He looked up for clarification.
Draco scowled and a snarl pulled at his lips surprising the healer with its angered vehemence. "That would have been a rather powerful Bat-Bogey hex." He said through gritted teeth. God, he hated the Weaslette even more now for what she did to Harry and the children, but having that incident brought up just made the hatred boil hotter.
Healer Strohs quickly looked away and chose not to ask what exactly a "bat-bogey hex" was. It didn't seem wise at that time.
There was only one entry left from Madam Pomfrey's meticulous notes and it made the Healer stiffen in alarm. When he spoke, his voice was professional, but he was apprehensive of what the answer to his inquiry might be.
"Near the end of your sixth year, you suffered from a Dark curse that lacerated your chest causing severe damage and blood loss. Upon admittance, you were then treated for exhaustion and malnutrition." Whatever he was expecting from his new patient, he didn't get it.
Draco just nodded calmly and looked him in the eyes. "It was a Dark curse that created sword-like slashes across my chest. At that time I was struggling to perform an impossible task, failing at the risk of losing my family and my life; stress that would account for the exhaustion and malnutrition." He said, voice emotionless.
Healer Strohs simply nodded and flipped through the rest of the papers. "It says you were admitted here at St. Mungo's on the night of the Final Battle. You were treated for first and second degree burns, a black eye, and some minor nicks and scrapes."
Draco met his questioning gaze and fought down the old pain he often felt when thinking about that night. "I was caught in a room being devoured by Fiendfyre and received a black eye during the battle, obviously." He rolled his eyes, to cover up his discomfort.
Healer Strohs didn't say any more on this entry and there was nothing of interest in the rest of the file. Their family healer had retired some years ago, hence the reason why Mr. Malfoy was now sitting in his examination room.
"Is there anything that wouldn't be in this file?" He asked.
Draco nodded again. "I have a seven year-old son from my ex-wife and I'm in an intimate relationship." No need to specify just how intimate. The healer knew what he meant.
"With a man or a woman?" He asked making a quick notation on a new sheet he'd spelled into the file.
Draco smirked and stretched in the uncomfortable chair. "Definitely a man." He drawled causing the healer to give him a disapproving look for his display. He only chuckled.
"Alright, Mr. Malfoy. Are you here for a general check-up or for a specific ailment?" He asked turning back to his patient and pushing the file aside.
Draco straightened as well and once again, a flicker of nervousness entered his face. "Both actually."
Strohs nodded and turned back to the file picking up the muggle pen he'd set beside it. He found them quicker and neater than carting around a quill and ink-well. "What are your symptoms?"
He received a small awkward cough before the other man started to answer. "Frequent urination, exhaustion, strange cravings, increased appetite, and oversensitivity to smell."
Pausing in his note taking, Strohs glanced up at his patient and met his unreadable eyes. "Alright." He said slowly. "Let's move onto the check-up, shall we?"
Draco agreed and stood up to slip his outer robe off before seating himself on the examination table.
"First, I would like to have a look at your Dark Mark and the area affected by the Dark curse to make sure there isn't any lingering Dark magic." Strohs told him and Draco started to unbutton his dress shirt without having him ask.
Slipping it off his shoulders, Draco shook out the wrinkles and draped it next to him on the table in a practiced move. Storhs waited until he was finished before he moved forward with his wand and began his preliminary scans and diagnostic spells.
Draco sat patiently and did everything he was asked. He breathed deep, he coughed, he raised his arm, he wiggled his toes, he stuck out tongue and said "aaaaaaa". Through it all he was getting more and more jittery waiting for the time when the healer began to actually scan for the cause of his symptoms.
Strohs stepped back after his general check-up and nodded making another notation on his file. "You seem to be in perfect health. A tad thin, but still within your healthy weight range."
"Good. Can you see to diagnosing my symptoms, now?" He asked just this side of barely polite.
Unruffled, Strohs simply gave him an amused smile before raising his wand once more and starting a more complicated diagnostic spell from his head all the way down to...
He stopped when he reached Draco's belly and started to murmur off another volley of spells. Draco was about to start biting his nails. A very un-Malfoy, Potter-like habit. He sat on his hands.
It seemed to take forever, but finally the healer refocused his attention on Draco as a whole and holstered his wand. "Mr. Malfoy, after numerous scans and spells I have come to the conclusion that you are-"
"Pregnant." The word left him like a weight tumbling from his shoulders. He could almost feel the stress unwinding from his tense muscles and the panic fleeing his belly. Once he'd said it, once it had been confirmed the thought of being pregnant didn't seem like such a frightening thing after all. He let a small smile curve at his lips.
Healer Strohs watched the emotions and thoughts flit over his patient's face for a moment before speaking again. "You are pregnant, yes." He finished. "I take it that this was not a surprise?"
Draco turned his unwavering eyes on the healer and snorted wryly. "Actually, it's a complete surprise."
That made the older man frown in puzzlement. "But not an unpleasant surprise." He commented taking in Draco's still slightly smiling mouth and twinkling eyes.
"No." He shook his head and began to tug his shirt back on. "No, not unpleasant at all. Just unexpected."
Understanding softened Strohs's face and he nodded sagely. "The muggle prophylactic devices aren't nearly as-" He was cut off by a half amused, half disgusted bark of laughter.
Draco quickly cut his hilarity down to a stifled chuckle as he buttoned up his shirt and tucked it back into his trousers. "I'm sorry, but no." He smirked, humor plain in his eyes. "There were no -muggle- devices being used. We used Tutela Fertilitas."
The healer raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Are you quite sure? Tutela Fertilitas is one of the most affective contraceptive spells in the magical world."
"Yes, I'm aware." Draco drawled amusedly. "That's why we used it. However, it seems to have found the couple it could not conquer."
He still could not believe that spell would have malfunctioned. Mr. Malfoy didn't seem too surprised, but he couldn't think of a single thing that would render it useless. "Did you use it on more than one occasion or different spells on different occasions?"
A light blush colored Draco's pale cheeks as he hopped off the table and retrieved his outer robe. "Same spell, all occasions." He answered quickly. "And we did not forget a single casting." He added because he could see the next question on the tip of the healer's tongue.
"I don't understand." Healer Strohs admitted. "That should not have happened. The spell should have made conception impossible."
A strange look came of Draco's face as he seated himself in his previously vacated seat. "The impossible is always possible in some capacity, Healer Strohs. I think your questions will be answered when you meet my," he didn't quite know what to call Harry to this man, he settled for, "lover."
It didn't sound as fleeting as boyfriend, nor as sterile as partner, they weren't married yet so he couldn't call him husband, but lover seemed to work. He did love Harry an exorbitant amount.
Shifting his mind back on the present, he turned to the healer. "Now that we've established that I have defied the odds, what else did your spells show you?"
Healer Strohs nodded in acknowledgement of the subject change and seated himself in his chair. "You are near to five and a half weeks pregnant. The baby is strong and healthy, as you appear to be as well. I would like you to start taking a once daily prenatal supplement potion. It's standard in all first pregnancies." He assured him when Draco's brow furrowed. "The potion guarantees that the baby is receiving the nutrients it needs as your body and magic adapt to pregnancy for the first time. You will be taken off of it, most likely near to the end of your first trimester."
Draco's frown cleared and he motioned for the healer to continue. As long as nothing was wrong with the baby there was no need to panic.
Healer Strohs pulled a sheet of parchment out of a drawer in the little desk and handed it over. "This is a list of foods and activities you should avoid."
It was all standard fair really, Draco thought as he scanned it quickly. No alcohol, raw meat, pipe smoking, or picking up cat poop. Literally.
He glanced up at the healer. "I shouldn't come in contact with feline feces?" He raised an eyebrow. Not that it was a problem for him. They didn't even own a cat.
Strohs gave a slightly amused cough before sobering somewhat quickly. "It can cause severe birth defects."
There was a sudden sinking feeling in his gut. "Should I stay away from cats in general, then? Should I be avoiding all animals?"
"Animal contact should not be a problem, unless you plan on cleaning up after them." He clarified with a reassuring voice.
"What about reptiles?" Came the unexpected question. "Snakes and birds." Draco clarified. "We have a rather large flock of white peacocks at the Manor and I handle owls on a regular basis."
Healer Strohs stared at him for a moment before deciding that this was one of those things he would just have to wait for an explanation. "Once again, it should be fine."
Draco nodded and seemed inordinately relieved. "Is there anything else?" He asked.
"I would like to have you come in every month for a check-up, then every two weeks in your final trimester." He said as he stood and held out a hand for Draco to shake.
"Of course. Would it be alright if I continue making appointments under the name of James Evans?" He asked as they shook hands. "It would be very problematic if the Prophet found out."
"That shouldn't be a problem." Strohs nodded. "Just make an appointment with the front desk. I'll keep your files under that name as well."
Draco gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you. I'll see you then." He murmured a spell and his glamour flowed over his face seamlessly before he turned to the door and disappeared out of it.
The healer watched him go for a moment before shaking his head in wonder. Never had he thought one of the most famous Death Eaters and war veterans would step through his door. It was astonishing really.
He'd always heard that the Malfoys were Dark and manipulative and rather intimidating. Of course now that Harry Potter had vouched for them at their trial, there was a lot less said about them that would hint at misconduct or corruption.
There were still whispers, as to be expected, but not as many as there had been before the Second War. From what he'd seen of young Draco Malfoy, he was pure-blooded to be sure, proud, a little arrogant, cocky, and generally like anyone else that had stepped into his office.
It will be interesting to continue being his healer, Strohs decided. He was a very intriguing young man as it was.
Shaking his head at his own thoughts, Healer Strohs slipped Draco Malfoy's file inside the James Evans file and banished it to the alphabetical patient records. It slipped smoothly between the Evalopes and the Everettes.
*
1 mon petit chou : my little cabbage
TBC...
Chapter Twenty-Two
Masterpost