The Leaves talked in the Twilight, 1/3 Complete
This was writen for this year's hds_beltane fest...I've never attempted mpreg before, and wanted to do it some justice. I hope I have. :D
Title: The Leaves talked in the Twilight
To: crazyparakiss
Pairing/Threesome: H/D
Rating: R
Warnings: mpreg, angst.
Word count: 24,000ish
Summary: Just when you think you've stumbled into the wrong magic ritual...
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This was created for fun, not for profit.
Author's Note: I wanted to stretch a bit with this fest, and the prompt did not disappoint. I'd never considered writing mpreg before, but I had some fun working it out.This fic was beta-ed by nikki4noo, 7ofeleven and lauriegilbert, and I am SO grateful for all the help, ladies. :D
The leaves talked in the twilight, dear;
Hearken the tale they told:
How in some far-off place and year,
Before the world grew old,
I was a dreaming forest tree,
You were a wild, sweet bird
Who sheltered at the heart of me
Because the north wind stirred;
How, when the chiding gale was still,
When peace fell soft on fear,
You stayed one golden hour to fill
My dream with singing, dear.
To-night the self-same songs are sung
The first green forest heard;
My heart and the gray world grow young-
To shelter you, my bird.
-Sophie Jewett
March 29th
"Why Draco, fancy meeting you here," the voice said, dripping with condescension.
Draco cringed. He knew that voice. He'd heard it far too much for one lifetime, although he hadn't heard it in years. It seemed his luck had run out.
"Hello, Pansy," Astoria greeted, saving Draco from having to speak to her. His relationship with Pansy had peaked when they'd gone to the Yule Ball in fourth year, and it had been down hill since then. Draco had been thrilled to hear she'd married Theo Nott the year before, they deserved each other. Nott was as smug and self righteous as Pansy, not that they had anything to be smug about. It drove Draco mad.
"Astoria," Pansy replied, her tone frosty. Pansy had been furious when Draco had married Astoria, having been certain, despite Draco's blatant disdain for her, that she would win him eventually. When Draco had announced his engagement, Pansy had told him in a fit of intense rage that she would never speak to him again. He'd taken it as good news and had never looked back.
"And how are the two of you?" Pansy asked. Draco forced himself to look up at her, as politeness demanded. She hadn't changed, she was still pretty, though not strikingly so. Her supercilious expression ruined what little natural beauty she'd been blessed with, and what was left was clearly artificial. Draco shuddered, feeling a rush of gratitude toward Astoria. Besides, Pansy would have demanded fidelity from him, and that was something he was not willing to give. Astoria did not want it, for which Draco was grateful.
"We're fine, thank you Pansy," Astoria replied cooly. She was not terribly fond of Pansy either. Just one more reason Draco liked her so much. Nott didn't say anything, he just stood behind Pansy. He gave Draco a sneer and then looked away, staring into the distance, tapping his fingers against his pant leg impatiently.
"I thought I'd stop by for a little chat," Pansy was saying. "I was curious if you had any news to share."
"News?" Astoria asked politely, but Draco could practically hear her teeth grinding. He couldn't help but smile, just a little, grateful that he'd married where he had.
"Of an impending addition," Pansy said casually.
"Are you asking if I'm pregnant?" Astoria asked, shocked at Pansy's rudeness.
"I'm only curious," Pansy said innocently. "How wonderful would it be if we were pregnant together?"
Draco's gaze shot to Pansy, who was looking smug and superior. Draco had never hated her more in his life.
Astoria glanced at Draco before responding, "Shall I assume congratulations are in order?"
"Yes, yes they are." Pansy drew herself up to her full height, puffing our her large bosom. Draco had to look away, the combination of Pansy and her breasts making him feel ill. "We will be welcoming the new addition in September," she continued.
"Congratulations," Astoria said flatly, her face a mask. Draco ground his teeth. The knowledge that Pansy bloody Parkinson (Nott, he reminded himself) would have a child first grated at his nerves and his pride.
"I so wished that you were expecting as well," Pansy mused, her tone light and casual, though Draco could feel the condescension dripping from it. "Draco and I were quite close once upon a time, weren't we Draco? My fondest wish is that our children could be as well."
"Not bloody likely," Draco said under his breath, earning a glare from Astoria.
"Alas, it seems that it's not meant to be," Pansy had schooled her features into a farce of sympathy. "Perhaps you'll be expecting by the time we have our second. If we're very lucky."
"Perhaps," Astoria replied.
"If there's anything I can do to help, please do let me know," Pansy said, pulling her husband closer and twining her arm through his. "Dear Theo and I have become quite adept at several tricks, I'd be happy to instruct you."
"I don't think so," Draco bit out. "The last thing I need to be thinking about when trying to conceive is the two of you."
"Draco," Astoria scolded, but Pansy waved a hand dismissively.
"There's no need to be insulting, Draco," she said. "I understand that your inability to conceive might make you a bit tetchy,"
"You know nothing about our abili...personal business," Draco snarled.
"Oh, I know enough," Pansy said with a laugh. "Enough to to know you probably can't get it up for..."
"That's enough Pansy," Nott said, taking her arm. "Good day Draco, Astoria." He tried to lead his wife away, but Pansy resisted.
"Good luck knocking her up, Draco," she called out as Nott began to drag her away. "You'd have better luck with her brother, or him with you!"
Draco winced as Pansy's voice carried across the road, gaining the attention of everyone there, if only for a moment. They turned back to their business once Nott had apparated her away, but Draco was still stung. How did she now?
"I'm sorry Draco," Astoria said, laying a hand on his arm. He shook her off, squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath.
"Don't apologize for her, she's beyond help," Draco said. Astoria slipped her arm through his, encouraging him to move. They walked slowly down the alley, the silence between them not quite comfortable. Pansy's words still stung, all the more because Draco knew they were true. All his life he'd wanted a family, but it had never occurred to him just how much of an obstacle his preferences would be. He'd always thought he could overcome it in order to conceive a child, but he couldn't. No matter how hard he tried, how many 'tricks', he was met with failure. To make matters worse, any useful potions came with side effects that worked in opposition to his purpose in taking it.
He had to think of something, and fast. He was more than ready to start a family, and Astoria was getting rather impatient, not that he could blame her. Despite her assertions, this was his problem, and he had to fix it. Soon.
April 24th
“This is a bad idea,” Astoria said skeptically, shaking her head at her husband. “It'll never work.”
"Of course it will,” Draco insisted. “It has to work.”
"Yes, because your half baked plans are always successful, aren't they?” Astoria smiled sweetly in response to Draco's glare, wrinkling her brow as she took the dusty parchment that Draco was handing her. She held it as daintily as possible, away from her fine robes and with the minimum of fingers required to grip it.
“It's nothing to worry about, I've got it all figured out,” Draco replied. "It has to work...if it doesn't...”
"If it doesn't, you're going to have to find yourself another wife, Draco,” Astoria interrupted. “I only agreed to marry you for two reasons, your...”
Draco interrupted her this time. “Yes, yes, my money and a baby, I'm well aware.” He sighed, slumping uncharacteristically in his chair. “It'll work, I promise.”
“I hope it does. I like it here. I like you. You've truly become my best friend, Draco, but I want a child, and if you can't give me one, then our agreement is off.”
"I didn't exactly plan this, did I?” Draco snapped. He leapt to his feet and began to pace the room. “How was I to know when I married you that I...that I couldn't...” He stopped pacing and collapsed into another chair.
"I know, I'm sorry,” Astoria said softly, rising gracefully and moving across the room to kneel in front of him.
"It's not your fault,” Draco said, taking her hand. “It's mine.”
"I don't blame you,” she said softly. She gave his hand a squeeze. He turned his head away, unwilling to meet her sincere gaze. She continued, “I don't want to leave, you know. I care for you very much. Your mother as well. But I need to have a baby. Just one. I'd rather lose the money, you know.”
"Lose the money? It's serious, then?”
"Draco, be serious. This is not a game.”
"I do know,” Draco said, taking her hand between his own and rubbing it gently. “And I need an heir. But if you leave me I'll have to start over again. And I doubt there's a woman in Britain who could make me...perform.”
"I'm sorry,” Astoria repeated. “Let's give it a try. It can't hurt and if it doesn't work...we'll deal with that when the time comes.”
"Thank you,” Draco said, meeting her eyes at last with a weak smile. She smiled back, leaning forward to kiss him chastely on the cheek.
May 1st
"Astoria, a moment, please.”
Astoria took a deep breath and then turned to face her mother in law. “Narcissa, I'd love to chat, but I'm rather in a hurry, and I...”
“You are going to Uisneach Hill to meet Draco, are you not?” Narcissa asked casually.
“I am,” Astoria answered without thinking.
“Don't look so surprised,” Narcissa replied. “Draco believes his little plan is a secret, of course, but then, he has always thought he was successful in keeping things from me. However, I'm well aware of the plan, and I will not try to stop you.”
“Thank you,” Astoria said, eyes wide with surprise.
“I only wanted to give you this,” Narcissa handed over a small figurine. It was a carving of a woman, faceless and heavy with child. “It's a fertility charm, not very powerful, but it does contain enough magic to help you along. I used it when we were attempting to conceive.”
“Thank you,” Astoria said again. “Every little bit helps, I suppose.”
“Indeed,” Narcissa agreed. “Now don't keep my son waiting. He has no patience with anything that doesn't conform to his expectations.”
“I'm well aware,” Astoria said with a smile before turning to go. Draco was sure to be impatient by now, and getting more so by the minute.
*
Astoria was definitely late by the time she arrived at the hill. The apparition point was on the opposite side of the festivities from where Draco was waiting to perform the ritual. She cursed under her breath and began to wind her way across, past Wizard revellers, as well as Muggles, past entwined couples and rowdy groups at various stages in their cups. The crowd was rather thick and she had to push her way through at points.
Finally the crowd thinned as she was nearing the ritual site. She was in the clear, until a broad-shouldered form burst out of a group and knocked her over.
“I'm so sorry,” it...he said. “Are you alright?” Strong hands took hers and tugged her to her feet.
“I'm fine, thank you,” she said, finding herself face to face with Harry Potter.
“I'm terribly sorry, are you sure you're...”
Astoria interrupted, “I'm sure, thank you again.” She pulled back and dusted herself off. “Now if you'll excuse me, I'm in a bit of a rush.”
“Oh, right, don't let me keep you,” he said, taking a step back as well. “Sorry about the,” he waved a hand between them.
“It's no matter. Good evening Mr. Potter.” She smiled at him and turned to leave. She was very late now, Draco would be...displeased. To say the least.
She finally made it to the ritual site, pulling her outer robes off and dropping them in a heap outside the circle of stones. Inside was a triangle drawn in sand, ground from the same stones which formed the circle. It was supposed to represent the melding of the parents to form a new life. Astoria thought it was ridiculous, but who was she to question the magic? If it helped her conceive, she would do it. Becoming pregnant the old-fashioned way was not going to work.
'Draco has a better chance of getting Harry Potter pregnant than me,' she mused as she stepped into the circle.
“There you are!” Draco exclaimed, abruptly pushing a goblet of potion into her hand. He was standing on one point of the triangle, while Astoria took her place on another. The third point was for the baby they would hopefully conceive.
They were to stand on their points while Astoria drank the potion and Draco incanted the spell. The spell in conjunction with the potion was to be performed at midnight on Beltane night, on the Hill to multiply the forces of magic. Astoria had her doubts, but she would do what she had to, if it would get her a baby.
“I'm sorry, I was knocked over by...never mind,” Astoria bit her lip. If Draco knew who had knocked her over, he would not be able to let it go. They had been out of school for five years, but sometimes Astoria wondered if Draco had moved on at all. And sometimes she was sure he hadn't.
“Alright, it's time. Let's do this.” Draco lifted his wand and began the intricate movements, incanting the spell as Astoria lifted the goblet to her lips. And that's when it happened.
Harry Potter burst through the underbrush and right into the circle, tripping over Astoria's robes and knocking into her for the second time that evening. The potion splattered both of them with globs of lavender just as Draco finished his spell.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean...” Potter began, but Draco interrupted him.
“Potter, what the fuck?” he exclaimed, taking a step toward them, but the spell was already working. They were surrounded by a swirl of white mist, which coalesced into a ribbon and wound around Draco before travelling across the triangle to Astoria and Potter. It split into two ribbons and whipped around them twice, gaining speed before moving across the triangle again to the empty point where the ribbons swirled into twin tornadoes and disappeared into the night sky.
The three of them stood looking up where they had vanished, too shocked to say anything for a few moments.
“What was that?” Potter asked in a quiet voice.
“Nothing, Potter,” Draco said, stalking across the circle. “It was nothing.” He glared at Harry, crossing his arms.
“You're lying Malfoy,” Potter insisted, glaring at Draco in return. Astoria took a step back, out of the blast range, flicking her wand to remove the potion that had splattered on her.
“And you're sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong!” Draco took a step forward, dropping his clenched fists to his side. “Apparently nothing has changed.”
“Apparently not, as you're still up to no good! What just happened here, Malfoy?” Potter demanded. “What are you up to?”
“That's none of your business, you meddling Gryffindor! Go back to your weasels and root around in the muck. Leave us alone.”
“Why do you have to be such an arse, Malfoy?” Potter took a step closer to Draco, his eyes flashing with green fury. “Why can't you just answer the question?”
“Why can't you mind your own business for once? You're not an Auror and we didn't do anything wrong!"
“They why not tell me what you did? That spell affected me too!”
Draco scoffed. “It won't do anything to you Potter, you're not it's type. Besides, it's your own fault for stumbling in where you aren't invited.”
“I came to return this,” Potter said, holding up the fertility figurine. He turned to Astoria and passed it to her.
“Well, now that you've brought it back, you can leave. I've had enough of you to last a lifetime,” Draco spat.
“The feeling is very mutual, Malfoy.” He turned to Astoria and gave her a small smile. “I'm sorry again for knocking you over. Good luck with this prat.”
“Watch your mouth Potter, or I'll spell it shut. Permanently!” Draco threatened.
“Oh, go fuck yourself, Malfoy,” Harry said. “And if there's any side effects of this...whatever it was, I'll come after you, and after I've broken your snotty face, I'll hex away all your poncy hair. Permanently,” he added, mimicking Draco's accent.
He turned and stalked out of the circle, leaving Astoria with a fuming Draco.
May 23rd
Astoria woke up, stretched, got out of bed and promptly dashed for the loo, before vomiting most ungracefully into the toilet. Once she was done she rinsed out her mouth and brushed her teeth before taking a deep breath and performing a simple spell. A spell to test for pregnancy.
The results were immediate and definitively positive. She smiled widely and pulled on her dressing gown, and then made her way to Draco's suite.
She knocked hesitantly on the door, hoping that Draco had not invited anyone home the previous night. She wasn't bothered by his so-called infidelity, after all, their marriage was more like a business arrangement than anything else. It certainly wasn't a love match.
Fortunately, Draco called out for her to enter immediately after she knocked. She entered, unsurprised to find Draco still in bed, propped up against the headboard and sipping tea.
“Astoria? What is it?”
“I have some news...are those apple cinnamon muffins?” she asked, bracing herself against the wall to battle another wave of nausea.
“Yes, they're lovely this morning,” Draco said, putting down his tea and picking one up, holding it out to her. “Would you like one?”
Astoria swallowed heavily before taking a deep breath. Through her mouth to avoid the spicy scent of cinnamon. “No thank you,” she said. “They are making me ill.”
“Ill?” Draco pushed his tray aside, then his duvet, and left the bed, moving to her side. “What's wrong?”
“Nothing's wrong, in fact, everything is right.” Astoria smiled at him.
“I don't understand,” Draco said, taking her hand.
“I'm pregnant,” she said simply.
“You...you're,” he stuttered, staring at her in awe. “It worked?”
“It worked,” Astoria confirmed. Draco let out a very unmanly squeak and wrapped his arms around her, picking her up and spinning her in a circle.
“Draco, put me down, please,” she pleaded. “Or I'll throw up all over your pyjamas.”
Draco put her down immediately and took two steps back for good measure. Then he took her hands in his and beamed at her.
“It really worked,” he said again, in whisper.
“I think we've already been over that,” Astoria said, smiling weakly at him.
“Yes, but I...” he trailed off.
“I know, I can barely believe it myself.”
Draco pulled her toward the bed, sitting down and tugging her beside him. “We have so much to do. You'll need to see the midwife, and we'll have to tell Mother, and...”
“Draco, I'd be more than happy to discuss this all with you, but could you please get rid of those muffins?” she swallowed heavily again.
Draco laughed, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek before vanishing the muffins.
“Right then,” he said, still beaming. “Let's talk.”
June 18th
The following weeks had passed quickly for Draco and Astoria. An appointment with the midwife had confirmed Astoria's spell. A baby had been conceived on Beltane night as planned, and was developing normally.
Telling their families was the best part. Draco had told his mother on his own birthday, after they had been to the midwife. Narcissa had been ecstatic, hugging them both fiercely before beginning to chatter about all the things that needed to be done in preparation for the baby's arrival.
“Like mother, like son,” Astoria whispered to Draco before jumping into the planning with her mother in law.
Telling Astoria's family was just as crazy, as both her mother and her sister had the same enthusiasm for planning as Narcissa. Draco was excited as well, but his excitement had been dampened by all the feminine uproar.
He was still ecstatic about his growing child, and fascinated by it's development. At six weeks the foetus was still tiny, but it was strong, according to the midwife. The ritual had worked, Astoria was pregnant and without Draco having any...intimate contact with...girl bits. Draco wrinkled his nose at the thought, then quickly put it out of his mind. It had worked, and that was all that mattered.
His pondering was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a house elf. “Master Draco, there is a man here to see you,” Plinky said, bowing low.
“The man of my dreams, no doubt,” Draco muttered to himself, wondering who it could be.
“Sir?” the elf asked, but Draco just waved a hand in dismissal.
“Nothing,” he said. “See him in please, Plinky.”
Plinky bowed and vanished. A moment later the door was thrown open with such force that it smashed against the wall, denting the plaster. A fuming Harry Potter stormed into the room, his magic crackling palpably around him.
“What the fuck did you do to me, Malfoy!” he exclaimed, stalking up to Draco and giving him a shove.
Draco fell back into his chair, shocked by the outburst, as well as the visitor.
“I can think of a few dozen things I'd love to do with you,” Draco yelled back, standing up once more and giving Potter a shove in return. “I drew up a list in second year, and I've been adding to it since then, would you like to see it?”
“This is no time for jokes,” Potter spat, crossing his arms across his chest and glaring at Draco. “Whatever you did, I want you to undo it! Now!”
“I didn't do anything, you idiot!” Draco threw up his hands in exasperation. “I have no idea what you are talking about! Whatever it is, you can't blame it on me, you stupid Gryffindor!”
“Oh yes I can!” Potter said, his voice dropping into a dangerous growl. It was not an improvement on the screeching of before. It made the hair on Draco's arms stand on end. He rubbed them nervously.
“I knew you were up to something! You always are,” Potter was raving again, his voice raised and his arms gesturing madly. “I should have made you tell me what you'd done, then you could have undone it then.”
“What are you on about, you great arse?” Draco said. “I haven't even seen you since Belta...” Suddenly the world faded away, squeezing out every thing but him and Potter and the memory of the fertility potion, splattered across Potter and Astoria as they stood together on one point of the triangle while Draco finished the spell.
And Astoria was pregnant. Oh, fuck.
*
As it turned out, Potter was indeed pregnant. And furious. They spent the next few hours arguing about it, and Potter had left in as much a fury as he'd arrived in. He'd been gone for over an hour now, and Draco was still shocked.
Apparently the ritual had worked too well. Potter had conceived at the same moment that Astoria did, which explained the dual ribbons that had resulted from the ritual. Draco was astounded. Not only did the ritual work...it really worked.
“Draco?” Astoria called, waving her wand to illuminate the room. “Plinky told me that Harry Potter was here. Has he gone? What did he want?”
Draco looked up at her, his face devoid of all expression. “Yes, he's gone,” he answered quietly. His manner was remarkably calm, and it was in complete odds with how he was feeling.
“What did he have to say?” Astoria asked.
“He, uhh,” he trailed off, unsure of what to say. How does one tell his pregnant wife that their unborn child, a singleton, would have sibling. A step sibling. A step sibling being carried by a man. Draco was confused, bewildered and...well, he didn't know what he was.
“Draco? Are you in there?” Astoria waved an elegant hand in front of his face.
“What?” Draco jerked back into reality, looking at Astoria in confusion.
“Are you alright?” she asked. “You don't look well. What did Potter have to say?”
“He, uhh...”
“Yes, you've already said that,” Astoria crossed her arms over her bosom.
Draco looked up at her with wild eyes. "I'm starting to sound like him," he breathed. He looked up and said, "I'm sorry, I think...I think I'm in shock,”
Astoria sat down on the arm of his chair, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. Draco took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment, hoping to gain some strength. For the first time, Draco wished for a moment that he'd been a Gryffindor. And then he promptly wished he could obliviate himself.
“He came to tell me, uhh, to tell us,” he paused, still unsure how to go on. He took another deep breath. “He's pregnant.” Finally, the words came, honest and unadultered.
“He's what?” Astoria's voice was more than a little screechy, and Draco winced.
“He's pregnant,” Draco repeated.
“I don't understand,” Astoria said, sounding like Draco felt.
“Neither do I,” Draco said, sighing. “But you saw what happened when he stumbled into the ritual, the bumbling ape.”
“I remember,” Astoria shook her head in amazement. Silence fell between them, as they both tried to absorb the information.
Finally, Astoria broke the silence. “Well, there is a bright side.”
Draco looked up at her. “What could possibly be bright about Harry Potter carrying my child?”
“Well,” she said, arching a pale brow. “At least the plan worked.”
Draco stared at her in shock before bursting into peals of laughter. Astoria joined him, unable to contain the hysteria.
Finally the laughter subsided, and Draco pulled Astoria into his lap, hugging her tightly.
“Thank you,” he said softly, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I needed that.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“I don't know,” Draco responded. “What should I do?”
Astoria sighed, running her hands through his fine hair. “Get to know him.”
“What?” Draco pulled back, scoffing at her. “Why on earth would I do that?”
“Draco, regardless of how you feel about him, the man is carrying your child. You're stuck with him for the rest of your life, whether you like it or not. We both are.”
“That doesn't mean I have to like him,” Draco huffed.
“As a matter of fact, it does,” Astoria insisted. “You will be co-parenting with him. We all will, together. Our children will be raised together. We'll have to come to consensus about their upbringing, education, everything. How are we going to accomplish that if the two of you cannot be in the same room without throwing curses and insults?”
“The idea is ludicrous,” Draco exclaimed, thrusting Astoria off his lap and pacing around the room. “Potter is a self righteous, attention seeking, dimwitted ape. I despise him and I always will.”
“Draco,” Astoria stalked him across the room, halting his motions with a hand on his shoulder. “You have to try.”
“No,” he exclaimed. “I can't. Don't make me.”
“I can't make you do anything, but you know it's the right thing to do.”
“He's insufferable.” Draco shrugged her hand off.
“Perhaps. But he's also the father of your child. Or, the mother, I don't know how this works exactly.”
Draco scoffed at her attempt to lighten his mood. “Don't be ridiculous.”
“I can't help it. The situation demands it,” she said, smirking at him.
“Well, I won't argue with that,” he said with an eye roll.
“We have to work it out Draco.”
He sighed, turning and slumping against her in defeat. “Fine,” he agreed. “I'll owl him in the morning.”
“Thank you,” Astoria said. “We'll work it out, you'll see. We'll do it together.”
He wrapped his arms around her. “You're the best friend I've ever had, you know.”
“I know,” she said, kissing his hair and smiling. “The feeling is mutual.”
June 19th
Harry woke suddenly, the remnants of a vivid dream already fading. It was quickly forgotten in the rush to the toilet, where he lost what was left of his dinner.
After a thorough tooth brushing and a splash of water on his face, he felt much more human. However, he also still felt pregnant. Queasy, exhausted and tender...he had definitely felt better. He was still in a state of shock. He'd never heard of men getting pregnant before, by magic or otherwise. On the other hand, there was plenty of things he hadn't heard of before Hagrid rescued him from the Dursley's.
Still, the idea that he was pregnant, with Draco Malfoy's baby no less, was difficult to accept. If it weren't for the midwife's assurances that he was indeed pregnant, he would assume he'd been put under a spell.
He scoffed at that...he was under a spell, so to speak. According to Hermione and her ever present research, it was a very powerful and ancient spell created for those who were unable to conceive by other means. Harry couldn't help but wonder why Draco and Astoria Malfoy needed such a spell to conceive. As much as it pained him to admit it, they were both attractive people.
He wasn't sure he wanted to find out, but he realized he likely would. As unwanted and unexpected as the event was, the fact remained that he was having a baby with Draco Malfoy.
He was attempting to sip some very weak peppermint tea when a large, regal looking owl tapped on the window. He untied a scroll stamped with an elaborate 'M' before giving the owl a treat. It didn't leave however, instead it settled on the sill and seemed to be waiting for a response.
“Typical,” Harry muttered under his breath. Malfoy would insist on an immediate response, clearly not happy with letting Harry answer in his own time. He shook his head in exasperation as he opened it and read.
Scarhead Potter Harry,
Astoria insists I must apologize for my behavior last night. Your unwanted unexpected visit came as...quite a surprise. As did your news.
I'm willing to accept culpability, though if you hadn't bumbled in like an overgrown ape stuck your nose in where it doesn't followed Astoria, it would never have happened.
We need to talk. Please come to the Manor today for tea so we can discuss this fiasco you've embroiled us in our situation. Please respond by return owl.
Draco Malfoy.
Harry sighed, crumpling the parchment in his hand. Damn Draco Malfoy. That arrogant, snotty, pretentious wanker. Despite his implications, it wasn't Harry's fault. If Malfoy hadn't been unable to impregnate his wife the old fashioned way, instead of performing a powerful and dangerous ritual in public, this never would have happened.
Harry felt a wave of pure anger rush over him. It was a feeling he was becoming accustomed to. He'd been in a near constant state of fury since the midwife had diagnosed him and he'd put two and two together. Malfoy's reaction only made it worse. He had been utterly unapologetic and downright belligerent about Harry's situation. He was the cause of it, after all, Harry fumed.
He continued fuming for almost a half an hour, pausing once to vomit the small amount of tea he'd managed to ingest, before scribbling a response and sending it away with Malfoy's owl. He might regret this. No, he would regret this. But Malfoy was the father of his baby.
“Merlin, this is ridiculous,” Harry muttered angrily to himself. Ridiculous it might be, but that certainly didn't change the fact. He would meet with Malfoy. No matter the result.
*
Harry arrived at Malfoy Manor in an only slightly better mood than he had been in the last time he'd been there. He couldn't imagine that this meeting would end any better, but he had to try. For his baby.
He stopped in his tracks and turned around, then stopped again and shook his head. There were times when the situation was still so bizarre, so surreal that Harry had trouble taking it all in. He turned around again, forcing himself to keep putting one foot in front of the other until he was pulling the bell.
Malfoy was waiting for him in the same room he'd been in the night before. Harry stood just inside the door, unsure what to say and unwilling to break the silence.
“Potter,” Malfoy said finally, after they'd spent a few long moments avoiding each other's eyes.
“Malfoy,” he responded simply, nodding his head.
“Tea?” Malfoy asked, snapping his fingers for the waiting house elf.
“Uh, sure,” Harry said awkwardly, never having envisioned a time when he'd be taking tea with Malfoy. He shuffled forward and took the seat that Malfoy gestured to. They sat across the table from each other, in silence again. Neither of them wanted to begin.
After Plinky had laid the table with tea, sandwiches and cakes, Malfoy finally spoke up.
“I'm...sorry for my reaction last night,” he stated, pouring tea for Harry as well as himself.
“Oh, uh,” Harry stuttered, swallowing his annoyance and nervousness. “That's okay. You were an arse, but so was I, I think."
“Yes, you were,” Malfoy said. Harry's head shot up, meeting Malfoy's eyes for the first time since he'd entered the room.
“I can hardly be blamed for that!” Harry snapped, wondering for the millionth time why Malfoy made him so bloody angry.
Malfoy scoffed. “If you kept your nose out of other people's business, things like this wouldn't happen,” he said.
“I wasn't sticking my...no. I won't go there.” Harry took a deep breath, “Besides, these things have a way of happening to me, even if I manage to mind my own business.” He took a sip of his tea. “Why were you there, anyway? This wouldn't have happened if you'd done it somewhere less public, you realise.”
“I know that, Potter, I'm not an idiot,” Malfoy snapped.
“If you say so,” Harry muttered under his breath, earning himself a cold glare.
“The Hill possesses ancient power, and all the...fornication going on also contributed to the spell. It could have been performed somewhere else, but I wasn't going to take any chances.”
Harry nodded, nibbling the edge of a sandwich, desperately hoping he'd be able to keep it down. Puking here at the Manor was an humiliation he wasn't eager to experience.
“Why?”
Malfoy looked up, his brow crinkled. “Excuse me?”
“Why did you do it? It's rather drastic, I mean,” Harry said, placing his cup carefully in the saucer, breathing deeply through another wave of nausea.
“I have my reasons,” Malfoy replied, pointedly looking into his cup.
“I think I have a right to know,” Harry said sharply. “It affects me rather directly, don't you think?”
“It's none of your business, Potter,” Malfoy bit out, all but throwing his cup into the saucer.
“It is,” Harry insisted.
“It's not,” Malfoy insisted right back.
“What's the problem, Malfoy?” Harry asked. “Can't get it up for the missus?” Harry smirked.
Malfoy shot out of his chair, striding across the room, his back a poker straight line and faced definitively away from Harry. “Fuck off, Potter,” he snapped over his shoulder.
“I can't really do that, now can I?” Harry all but shouted back. “You've fucked me already!”
Malfoy spun around, eyes blazing. “If I fucked you, you'd damn well know it!” he yelled.
Harry blinked. He'd just been fishing for insults, but that one seemed to have hit close to home. Was Malfoy really gay? The idea made something in Harry's stomach twist and his pulse race, but before he could figure out what the was all about, his stomach protested, rejecting the tea.
He lurched out of his chair, searching frantically for a pot, a plant, anything that he could use. He'd rather die than vomit on Malfoy's no doubt ancient and priceless rug.
He was saved the indignity however, when Astoria Malfoy swept into the room bearing a ceramic bucket. She handed it to him and gave him a shove, seating him back in his chair. Not a moment too soon apparently. As soon as Harry's arse hit the seat he was vomiting up tea and bread into the bucket, heaving until there was nothing left but a sick taste in his mouth.
He came back to himself and realized that someone was petting his hair, murmuring soft words of comfort and encouragement. He blinked away tears, looking up into Astoria's warm blue eyes.
“What was that, Potter?” Malfoy demanded from over her shoulder. Harry looked up further, catching the sneer of revulsion on Malfoy's face. He looked back down at Astoria, murmuring a quiet 'thank you.'
Astoria stood and turned to face her husband. “What do you think that was, Draco? He's just as pregnant as I am, isn't he? It's bound to be even harder on him, not being made for it and all.”
“If you say so,” Malfoy scoffed.
Harry tried to bite back his retort, but it was out of his mouth before he could stop it.
“It's your evil spawn that's doing this to me, Malfoy,” he spat, glaring daggers into Malfoy's eyes. “No wonder my body is rejecting it.”
“Stop!” Astoria yelled, glaring at both of them in turn. “I won't have this anymore. You are both grown men, now start acting like it.” She looked down at Harry. “Despite the accidental nature of this...situation, that baby inside you is half Malfoy. And you're stuck with it, and us, so you'd best make the most of it.”
Harry blushed and averted his eyes from Malfoy's triumphant smirk.
“And you,” Astoria continued, turning to face Malfoy. “You're even worse. Harry may have stumbled on us at the worst possible time, but he was only trying to return the figurine. He didn't deserve to have this happen to him, but it did. I will not allow you to make this any harder on him with your childish attitude. We are going to have to find a way to make this work, despite your mutual animosity. Is that understood?”
Malfoy had paled under the weight of her scolding, and nodded jerkily, his eyes downcast.
“Good. Now let's get down to business, shall we?” She snapped her fingers, summoning a house elf to take away the bucket Harry was still clutching, then poured him a glass of cool water infused with peppermint. It tasted heavenly and settled his stomach. He breathed a sigh of relief.
“Sit down, Draco,” Astoria commanded, sitting herself in his chair. “Let's start with you, Harry. How are you coping with this?”
Harry took a deep breath, ignored Malfoy, and told her.
*
Two hours later, Astoria had managed to prevent Harry and Draco from coming to blows, had established a schedule of meetings, so they could 'get to know each other better' and had insisted that Draco accompany Harry to his midwife's appointments. Her skill at managing Malfoy and his reactions was fascinating to Harry, the fact that they had resorted to the ritual combined with Malfoy's assertion to Harry earlier had him utterly confused.
He had considered that Malfoy may be gay, hence the need for a ritual so that Astoria could conceive, but their easy intimacy threw that theory into doubt. Truthfully, he had no idea what to think.
What he did know was that he'd be sitting through dinner with them the very next night. He sighed, dropping heavily onto his couch. He had seen more Malfoys in the past two days than he had in the six years since he'd left school. And this was just the beginning.
June 29th
“Come in, Harry,” Astoria said, waving him to a seat at the rather large and ostentatious table, set for three, complete with candles and what seemed like more cutlery than Harry had in his kitchen.
“Please, be seated,” she continued, so Harry did.
“Thank you for the invitation,” he said politely, shooting a glance at Malfoy, who was standing off to the side with his arms crossed.
“You are very welcome,” Astoria replied, glaring at her husband for a moment before sitting down across from him. Draco resignedly took his seat at the head of the table, shaking out his napkin with more force than was strictly necessary.
“It is important that we get to know each other better,” she continued, ignoring Draco.
“I suppose it is,” Harry said, as the room filled with a small army of house elves who began serving the main course. Dinner passed with very little conflict, an occurrence that could be attributed to the fact that Malfoy had barely said three words together. It wasn't until dessert was brought out that the conversation turned to more serious matters.
“Have you given any thought to the child's upbringing?” Astoria asked suddenly. Harry stilled, his fork halfway to his mouth and looked up at her in surprise.
“Well, not really,” he said, glancing at Malfoy, who was, stabbing his trifle as if it had done him a personal wrong. “Isn't it a little early for that?”
“Oh, it's never too early,” Astoria assured him. “Draco and I have already discussed it, and we feel that it would be best if the child came to live with us at the Manor, where it could be raised along with our son.”
Harry gaped at her, letting his fork fall to his plate with a clank. “You...what?”
Malfoy scoffed and threw his fork down as well. “We want to raise them together Potter, or is that too much for you to understand? There should be no reason why we can't avoid the subject of it's...conception altogether, and raise both children as siblings.”
“Twins,” Astoria clarified. “We realize that this little...accident was our fault, so we'd like to make it as painless as possible for you.”
“I don't understand,” Harry said, resolutely ignoring Malfoy's scoff. “When you say, raise them as twins, do you mean, without me?”
“Of course we mean without you, you dim-witted twit,” Malfoy spat out.
“Draco!” Astoria scolded. “It...well, perhaps he could have phrased it more...politely, but yes, that is what we are proposing. There is no reason for your life to be disrupted, and we would be thrilled to have more than one child. It's doubtful that we'll ever have another one, so this seemed the perfect solution.”
“Oh, I see,” Harry snarled. “You get another baby, and you get me out of your lives for good. What kind of man do you take me for?”
“I was hoping you were a sensible one,” Astoria said, taken aback.
“Well, I'm not,” Harry hissed, ignoring Malfoy's snort. “This is one big fuck up that wasn't my fault and has nothing to do with me, except that it happened, to me. And now that I've got it, I'll be damned if I'll give up this baby. I probably won't ever get another chance, and even if I did, I would never deny it!” he exclaimed.
“I told you he couldn't be reasoned with,” Draco said to Astoria, who shook her head, her eyes wide at Harry's outburst.
“Reasoned with? You honestly thought you'd be able to convince me to give up my child? I grew up without parents, yet you still expected me to deny a child of my own blood? Are you insane?”
“Well, how do you propose we raise it, then?” Malfoy asked, standing and leaning against the table, his eyes flashing at Harry, a look very reminiscent of their school days.
“I'm keeping it! I'll be honest, and tell it how it was conceived, and that you're the other father...and I'll let it visit when it's older, but I'm raising my child. Me.” Harry stood up as well, glaring daggers at Malfoy, who glared daggers right back.
“Alone? No child of mine will be raised by a single parent, Potter,” Malfoy spit his name out as if it were poison. “You may be that low class, but we are not!”
“Low class? Well, maybe you should have thought of that before performing your stupid ritual in public! Besides, I don't care what you think, I'll raise this child on my own.”
“Please, I'm sure we can come to an agreement that would satisfy us all,” Astoria said, attempting to defuse the situation. It was too late, though.
“You will not!” Malfoy declared imperiously. “Astoria and I will raise it as our son's twin and that's final.”
“You can go fuck yourself, Malfoy,” Harry spat at him. “You won't get within 50 feet of my child if I can avoid it. You can count on it!”
With that, Harry pushed his chair back so hard that it clattered to the ground and then stalked out of the room, his errant magic causing the pictures on the walls to shimmer in his wake. He didn't care if he destroyed the lot. Malfoy Manor could go up in flames for all he cared.
*
Draco slammed the door to his suite, rattling the picture frames on his wall, much like the ones in the dining room had rattled at Potter's departure. He paced around the room, wanting to throw something, to smash something, to break something to dispel his anger. Potter had never failed to bring out the worst in him and tonight was no exception.
Draco dropped back onto his bed as exhaustion overtook him at last. Potter was as annoying, superior and sanctimonious as ever. But despite his stubborn insistence that he would deny Draco access to the child, he was also rather attractive. It was a fact which had not passed Draco's notice, though it only served to make him angrier. Being attracted to Potter was a humiliation he could not bear.
The thing is, he was having a hard time denying it, even to himself. Sure, the prat made him want to draw his wand, or even make a fist, and anything more than a few moments in his presence pushed Draco to the edge of his patience. Underneath that, desire was lurking, ready to pop out at the most inopportune time. If only he could remove Potter's obnoxious personality, just leaving the fine body and handsome face.
Yes, that's it. Remove the personality, then Potter would be accommodating and pliable. And less likely to talk back. He'd be totally pleasant and unresisting and...and Draco was bored just thinking about it. Apparently removing the personality was not a solution.
What do you do when the one person you've always hated above all others turns into someone you're attracted to, more attracted than you've been in a long time? Someone who would be much less attractive if they were more likeable?
“Argh!” Draco exclaimed, pushing up off the bed and pacing to the bathroom. He stripped off his clothes and turned on the shower, wanting to wash these confusing, contradictory thoughts away.
He'd come to realize that Astoria was right. Accidental though this odd pregnancy might be, it was still his child and he intended to care for it. He would have to convince Potter that they could share the responsibility of raising the child, without killing each other. Hopefully.
Besides, he doubted that Astoria would be willing to go through another ritual. She had insisted on a baby as part of their marriage contract and he doubted she would agree to another if they had to resort to the ritual to conceive. As the years went by, he was assured that it would be less and less likely that he would ever be able to get it up for her, without some kind of stimulant. They had tried those of course, but they all had damaging affects on his sperm, or so the texts had said. Draco believed them.
He'd always wanted more than one child. In weaker moments he'd found himself envying the Weasleys. Not their poverty or boisterousness, of course, but their productivity. He disdained them for producing so many children that they could barely afford to support, but he had long dreamed of having a baby sister. Now that he was an adult, he dreamed of a family, himself with some nameless, faceless man, the two of them in love and surrounded by children. Three or four, at least, he could well afford them.
The reality was very different. Same sex partnerships were frowned upon and quite rare. Such proclivities were spoken of quietly and never broadcast. Draco didn't even know of any other wizards or witches who preferred their own sex. He sighed, ducking under the shower spray and staying there as long as he could stand it. A hot shower and a wank was just what he needed to loosen up. He'd never sleep otherwise. Bloody Potter.
He washed his hair quickly, then soaped up his body, letting his hands wander a bit to encourage his arousal. Not that it needed any encouragement. Perpetually horny was a defining characteristic of being male and despite being gay, he was certainly a man.
He closed his eyes, bringing forth a vision of the same faceless man who populated his fantasies. The broad shoulders, lean muscles and generous cock. The capable hands that clung to him as he slid his cock into a firm, perfect arse. He moaned, squeezing and stroking, he could almost feel the muscular clenches of his partner's channel. He sped up, in reality and fantasy, his mind taking him across flat planes of stomach, to tight pecs and a strong neck.
He was so close, so close, he squeezed harder, leaning down in his mind for a kiss, focusing on red, damp lips and green, green eyes.
“Ungh,” he groaned, losing himself in the fantasy, knowing he would hate himself after coming down. But he didn't care.
Once his orgasm had subsided, he leaned against the cold tiles and panted, trying to erase the vision of Potter, sweaty, sated Potter with the blissed out green eyes and the hair as wild as his temperament.
“I am so fucked,” he whispered to himself.
Part two
Title: The Leaves talked in the Twilight
To: crazyparakiss
Pairing/Threesome: H/D
Rating: R
Warnings: mpreg, angst.
Word count: 24,000ish
Summary: Just when you think you've stumbled into the wrong magic ritual...
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This was created for fun, not for profit.
Author's Note: I wanted to stretch a bit with this fest, and the prompt did not disappoint. I'd never considered writing mpreg before, but I had some fun working it out.This fic was beta-ed by nikki4noo, 7ofeleven and lauriegilbert, and I am SO grateful for all the help, ladies. :D
The leaves talked in the twilight, dear;
Hearken the tale they told:
How in some far-off place and year,
Before the world grew old,
I was a dreaming forest tree,
You were a wild, sweet bird
Who sheltered at the heart of me
Because the north wind stirred;
How, when the chiding gale was still,
When peace fell soft on fear,
You stayed one golden hour to fill
My dream with singing, dear.
To-night the self-same songs are sung
The first green forest heard;
My heart and the gray world grow young-
To shelter you, my bird.
-Sophie Jewett
March 29th
"Why Draco, fancy meeting you here," the voice said, dripping with condescension.
Draco cringed. He knew that voice. He'd heard it far too much for one lifetime, although he hadn't heard it in years. It seemed his luck had run out.
"Hello, Pansy," Astoria greeted, saving Draco from having to speak to her. His relationship with Pansy had peaked when they'd gone to the Yule Ball in fourth year, and it had been down hill since then. Draco had been thrilled to hear she'd married Theo Nott the year before, they deserved each other. Nott was as smug and self righteous as Pansy, not that they had anything to be smug about. It drove Draco mad.
"Astoria," Pansy replied, her tone frosty. Pansy had been furious when Draco had married Astoria, having been certain, despite Draco's blatant disdain for her, that she would win him eventually. When Draco had announced his engagement, Pansy had told him in a fit of intense rage that she would never speak to him again. He'd taken it as good news and had never looked back.
"And how are the two of you?" Pansy asked. Draco forced himself to look up at her, as politeness demanded. She hadn't changed, she was still pretty, though not strikingly so. Her supercilious expression ruined what little natural beauty she'd been blessed with, and what was left was clearly artificial. Draco shuddered, feeling a rush of gratitude toward Astoria. Besides, Pansy would have demanded fidelity from him, and that was something he was not willing to give. Astoria did not want it, for which Draco was grateful.
"We're fine, thank you Pansy," Astoria replied cooly. She was not terribly fond of Pansy either. Just one more reason Draco liked her so much. Nott didn't say anything, he just stood behind Pansy. He gave Draco a sneer and then looked away, staring into the distance, tapping his fingers against his pant leg impatiently.
"I thought I'd stop by for a little chat," Pansy was saying. "I was curious if you had any news to share."
"News?" Astoria asked politely, but Draco could practically hear her teeth grinding. He couldn't help but smile, just a little, grateful that he'd married where he had.
"Of an impending addition," Pansy said casually.
"Are you asking if I'm pregnant?" Astoria asked, shocked at Pansy's rudeness.
"I'm only curious," Pansy said innocently. "How wonderful would it be if we were pregnant together?"
Draco's gaze shot to Pansy, who was looking smug and superior. Draco had never hated her more in his life.
Astoria glanced at Draco before responding, "Shall I assume congratulations are in order?"
"Yes, yes they are." Pansy drew herself up to her full height, puffing our her large bosom. Draco had to look away, the combination of Pansy and her breasts making him feel ill. "We will be welcoming the new addition in September," she continued.
"Congratulations," Astoria said flatly, her face a mask. Draco ground his teeth. The knowledge that Pansy bloody Parkinson (Nott, he reminded himself) would have a child first grated at his nerves and his pride.
"I so wished that you were expecting as well," Pansy mused, her tone light and casual, though Draco could feel the condescension dripping from it. "Draco and I were quite close once upon a time, weren't we Draco? My fondest wish is that our children could be as well."
"Not bloody likely," Draco said under his breath, earning a glare from Astoria.
"Alas, it seems that it's not meant to be," Pansy had schooled her features into a farce of sympathy. "Perhaps you'll be expecting by the time we have our second. If we're very lucky."
"Perhaps," Astoria replied.
"If there's anything I can do to help, please do let me know," Pansy said, pulling her husband closer and twining her arm through his. "Dear Theo and I have become quite adept at several tricks, I'd be happy to instruct you."
"I don't think so," Draco bit out. "The last thing I need to be thinking about when trying to conceive is the two of you."
"Draco," Astoria scolded, but Pansy waved a hand dismissively.
"There's no need to be insulting, Draco," she said. "I understand that your inability to conceive might make you a bit tetchy,"
"You know nothing about our abili...personal business," Draco snarled.
"Oh, I know enough," Pansy said with a laugh. "Enough to to know you probably can't get it up for..."
"That's enough Pansy," Nott said, taking her arm. "Good day Draco, Astoria." He tried to lead his wife away, but Pansy resisted.
"Good luck knocking her up, Draco," she called out as Nott began to drag her away. "You'd have better luck with her brother, or him with you!"
Draco winced as Pansy's voice carried across the road, gaining the attention of everyone there, if only for a moment. They turned back to their business once Nott had apparated her away, but Draco was still stung. How did she now?
"I'm sorry Draco," Astoria said, laying a hand on his arm. He shook her off, squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath.
"Don't apologize for her, she's beyond help," Draco said. Astoria slipped her arm through his, encouraging him to move. They walked slowly down the alley, the silence between them not quite comfortable. Pansy's words still stung, all the more because Draco knew they were true. All his life he'd wanted a family, but it had never occurred to him just how much of an obstacle his preferences would be. He'd always thought he could overcome it in order to conceive a child, but he couldn't. No matter how hard he tried, how many 'tricks', he was met with failure. To make matters worse, any useful potions came with side effects that worked in opposition to his purpose in taking it.
He had to think of something, and fast. He was more than ready to start a family, and Astoria was getting rather impatient, not that he could blame her. Despite her assertions, this was his problem, and he had to fix it. Soon.
April 24th
“This is a bad idea,” Astoria said skeptically, shaking her head at her husband. “It'll never work.”
"Of course it will,” Draco insisted. “It has to work.”
"Yes, because your half baked plans are always successful, aren't they?” Astoria smiled sweetly in response to Draco's glare, wrinkling her brow as she took the dusty parchment that Draco was handing her. She held it as daintily as possible, away from her fine robes and with the minimum of fingers required to grip it.
“It's nothing to worry about, I've got it all figured out,” Draco replied. "It has to work...if it doesn't...”
"If it doesn't, you're going to have to find yourself another wife, Draco,” Astoria interrupted. “I only agreed to marry you for two reasons, your...”
Draco interrupted her this time. “Yes, yes, my money and a baby, I'm well aware.” He sighed, slumping uncharacteristically in his chair. “It'll work, I promise.”
“I hope it does. I like it here. I like you. You've truly become my best friend, Draco, but I want a child, and if you can't give me one, then our agreement is off.”
"I didn't exactly plan this, did I?” Draco snapped. He leapt to his feet and began to pace the room. “How was I to know when I married you that I...that I couldn't...” He stopped pacing and collapsed into another chair.
"I know, I'm sorry,” Astoria said softly, rising gracefully and moving across the room to kneel in front of him.
"It's not your fault,” Draco said, taking her hand. “It's mine.”
"I don't blame you,” she said softly. She gave his hand a squeeze. He turned his head away, unwilling to meet her sincere gaze. She continued, “I don't want to leave, you know. I care for you very much. Your mother as well. But I need to have a baby. Just one. I'd rather lose the money, you know.”
"Lose the money? It's serious, then?”
"Draco, be serious. This is not a game.”
"I do know,” Draco said, taking her hand between his own and rubbing it gently. “And I need an heir. But if you leave me I'll have to start over again. And I doubt there's a woman in Britain who could make me...perform.”
"I'm sorry,” Astoria repeated. “Let's give it a try. It can't hurt and if it doesn't work...we'll deal with that when the time comes.”
"Thank you,” Draco said, meeting her eyes at last with a weak smile. She smiled back, leaning forward to kiss him chastely on the cheek.
May 1st
"Astoria, a moment, please.”
Astoria took a deep breath and then turned to face her mother in law. “Narcissa, I'd love to chat, but I'm rather in a hurry, and I...”
“You are going to Uisneach Hill to meet Draco, are you not?” Narcissa asked casually.
“I am,” Astoria answered without thinking.
“Don't look so surprised,” Narcissa replied. “Draco believes his little plan is a secret, of course, but then, he has always thought he was successful in keeping things from me. However, I'm well aware of the plan, and I will not try to stop you.”
“Thank you,” Astoria said, eyes wide with surprise.
“I only wanted to give you this,” Narcissa handed over a small figurine. It was a carving of a woman, faceless and heavy with child. “It's a fertility charm, not very powerful, but it does contain enough magic to help you along. I used it when we were attempting to conceive.”
“Thank you,” Astoria said again. “Every little bit helps, I suppose.”
“Indeed,” Narcissa agreed. “Now don't keep my son waiting. He has no patience with anything that doesn't conform to his expectations.”
“I'm well aware,” Astoria said with a smile before turning to go. Draco was sure to be impatient by now, and getting more so by the minute.
*
Astoria was definitely late by the time she arrived at the hill. The apparition point was on the opposite side of the festivities from where Draco was waiting to perform the ritual. She cursed under her breath and began to wind her way across, past Wizard revellers, as well as Muggles, past entwined couples and rowdy groups at various stages in their cups. The crowd was rather thick and she had to push her way through at points.
Finally the crowd thinned as she was nearing the ritual site. She was in the clear, until a broad-shouldered form burst out of a group and knocked her over.
“I'm so sorry,” it...he said. “Are you alright?” Strong hands took hers and tugged her to her feet.
“I'm fine, thank you,” she said, finding herself face to face with Harry Potter.
“I'm terribly sorry, are you sure you're...”
Astoria interrupted, “I'm sure, thank you again.” She pulled back and dusted herself off. “Now if you'll excuse me, I'm in a bit of a rush.”
“Oh, right, don't let me keep you,” he said, taking a step back as well. “Sorry about the,” he waved a hand between them.
“It's no matter. Good evening Mr. Potter.” She smiled at him and turned to leave. She was very late now, Draco would be...displeased. To say the least.
She finally made it to the ritual site, pulling her outer robes off and dropping them in a heap outside the circle of stones. Inside was a triangle drawn in sand, ground from the same stones which formed the circle. It was supposed to represent the melding of the parents to form a new life. Astoria thought it was ridiculous, but who was she to question the magic? If it helped her conceive, she would do it. Becoming pregnant the old-fashioned way was not going to work.
'Draco has a better chance of getting Harry Potter pregnant than me,' she mused as she stepped into the circle.
“There you are!” Draco exclaimed, abruptly pushing a goblet of potion into her hand. He was standing on one point of the triangle, while Astoria took her place on another. The third point was for the baby they would hopefully conceive.
They were to stand on their points while Astoria drank the potion and Draco incanted the spell. The spell in conjunction with the potion was to be performed at midnight on Beltane night, on the Hill to multiply the forces of magic. Astoria had her doubts, but she would do what she had to, if it would get her a baby.
“I'm sorry, I was knocked over by...never mind,” Astoria bit her lip. If Draco knew who had knocked her over, he would not be able to let it go. They had been out of school for five years, but sometimes Astoria wondered if Draco had moved on at all. And sometimes she was sure he hadn't.
“Alright, it's time. Let's do this.” Draco lifted his wand and began the intricate movements, incanting the spell as Astoria lifted the goblet to her lips. And that's when it happened.
Harry Potter burst through the underbrush and right into the circle, tripping over Astoria's robes and knocking into her for the second time that evening. The potion splattered both of them with globs of lavender just as Draco finished his spell.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean...” Potter began, but Draco interrupted him.
“Potter, what the fuck?” he exclaimed, taking a step toward them, but the spell was already working. They were surrounded by a swirl of white mist, which coalesced into a ribbon and wound around Draco before travelling across the triangle to Astoria and Potter. It split into two ribbons and whipped around them twice, gaining speed before moving across the triangle again to the empty point where the ribbons swirled into twin tornadoes and disappeared into the night sky.
The three of them stood looking up where they had vanished, too shocked to say anything for a few moments.
“What was that?” Potter asked in a quiet voice.
“Nothing, Potter,” Draco said, stalking across the circle. “It was nothing.” He glared at Harry, crossing his arms.
“You're lying Malfoy,” Potter insisted, glaring at Draco in return. Astoria took a step back, out of the blast range, flicking her wand to remove the potion that had splattered on her.
“And you're sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong!” Draco took a step forward, dropping his clenched fists to his side. “Apparently nothing has changed.”
“Apparently not, as you're still up to no good! What just happened here, Malfoy?” Potter demanded. “What are you up to?”
“That's none of your business, you meddling Gryffindor! Go back to your weasels and root around in the muck. Leave us alone.”
“Why do you have to be such an arse, Malfoy?” Potter took a step closer to Draco, his eyes flashing with green fury. “Why can't you just answer the question?”
“Why can't you mind your own business for once? You're not an Auror and we didn't do anything wrong!"
“They why not tell me what you did? That spell affected me too!”
Draco scoffed. “It won't do anything to you Potter, you're not it's type. Besides, it's your own fault for stumbling in where you aren't invited.”
“I came to return this,” Potter said, holding up the fertility figurine. He turned to Astoria and passed it to her.
“Well, now that you've brought it back, you can leave. I've had enough of you to last a lifetime,” Draco spat.
“The feeling is very mutual, Malfoy.” He turned to Astoria and gave her a small smile. “I'm sorry again for knocking you over. Good luck with this prat.”
“Watch your mouth Potter, or I'll spell it shut. Permanently!” Draco threatened.
“Oh, go fuck yourself, Malfoy,” Harry said. “And if there's any side effects of this...whatever it was, I'll come after you, and after I've broken your snotty face, I'll hex away all your poncy hair. Permanently,” he added, mimicking Draco's accent.
He turned and stalked out of the circle, leaving Astoria with a fuming Draco.
May 23rd
Astoria woke up, stretched, got out of bed and promptly dashed for the loo, before vomiting most ungracefully into the toilet. Once she was done she rinsed out her mouth and brushed her teeth before taking a deep breath and performing a simple spell. A spell to test for pregnancy.
The results were immediate and definitively positive. She smiled widely and pulled on her dressing gown, and then made her way to Draco's suite.
She knocked hesitantly on the door, hoping that Draco had not invited anyone home the previous night. She wasn't bothered by his so-called infidelity, after all, their marriage was more like a business arrangement than anything else. It certainly wasn't a love match.
Fortunately, Draco called out for her to enter immediately after she knocked. She entered, unsurprised to find Draco still in bed, propped up against the headboard and sipping tea.
“Astoria? What is it?”
“I have some news...are those apple cinnamon muffins?” she asked, bracing herself against the wall to battle another wave of nausea.
“Yes, they're lovely this morning,” Draco said, putting down his tea and picking one up, holding it out to her. “Would you like one?”
Astoria swallowed heavily before taking a deep breath. Through her mouth to avoid the spicy scent of cinnamon. “No thank you,” she said. “They are making me ill.”
“Ill?” Draco pushed his tray aside, then his duvet, and left the bed, moving to her side. “What's wrong?”
“Nothing's wrong, in fact, everything is right.” Astoria smiled at him.
“I don't understand,” Draco said, taking her hand.
“I'm pregnant,” she said simply.
“You...you're,” he stuttered, staring at her in awe. “It worked?”
“It worked,” Astoria confirmed. Draco let out a very unmanly squeak and wrapped his arms around her, picking her up and spinning her in a circle.
“Draco, put me down, please,” she pleaded. “Or I'll throw up all over your pyjamas.”
Draco put her down immediately and took two steps back for good measure. Then he took her hands in his and beamed at her.
“It really worked,” he said again, in whisper.
“I think we've already been over that,” Astoria said, smiling weakly at him.
“Yes, but I...” he trailed off.
“I know, I can barely believe it myself.”
Draco pulled her toward the bed, sitting down and tugging her beside him. “We have so much to do. You'll need to see the midwife, and we'll have to tell Mother, and...”
“Draco, I'd be more than happy to discuss this all with you, but could you please get rid of those muffins?” she swallowed heavily again.
Draco laughed, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek before vanishing the muffins.
“Right then,” he said, still beaming. “Let's talk.”
June 18th
The following weeks had passed quickly for Draco and Astoria. An appointment with the midwife had confirmed Astoria's spell. A baby had been conceived on Beltane night as planned, and was developing normally.
Telling their families was the best part. Draco had told his mother on his own birthday, after they had been to the midwife. Narcissa had been ecstatic, hugging them both fiercely before beginning to chatter about all the things that needed to be done in preparation for the baby's arrival.
“Like mother, like son,” Astoria whispered to Draco before jumping into the planning with her mother in law.
Telling Astoria's family was just as crazy, as both her mother and her sister had the same enthusiasm for planning as Narcissa. Draco was excited as well, but his excitement had been dampened by all the feminine uproar.
He was still ecstatic about his growing child, and fascinated by it's development. At six weeks the foetus was still tiny, but it was strong, according to the midwife. The ritual had worked, Astoria was pregnant and without Draco having any...intimate contact with...girl bits. Draco wrinkled his nose at the thought, then quickly put it out of his mind. It had worked, and that was all that mattered.
His pondering was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a house elf. “Master Draco, there is a man here to see you,” Plinky said, bowing low.
“The man of my dreams, no doubt,” Draco muttered to himself, wondering who it could be.
“Sir?” the elf asked, but Draco just waved a hand in dismissal.
“Nothing,” he said. “See him in please, Plinky.”
Plinky bowed and vanished. A moment later the door was thrown open with such force that it smashed against the wall, denting the plaster. A fuming Harry Potter stormed into the room, his magic crackling palpably around him.
“What the fuck did you do to me, Malfoy!” he exclaimed, stalking up to Draco and giving him a shove.
Draco fell back into his chair, shocked by the outburst, as well as the visitor.
“I can think of a few dozen things I'd love to do with you,” Draco yelled back, standing up once more and giving Potter a shove in return. “I drew up a list in second year, and I've been adding to it since then, would you like to see it?”
“This is no time for jokes,” Potter spat, crossing his arms across his chest and glaring at Draco. “Whatever you did, I want you to undo it! Now!”
“I didn't do anything, you idiot!” Draco threw up his hands in exasperation. “I have no idea what you are talking about! Whatever it is, you can't blame it on me, you stupid Gryffindor!”
“Oh yes I can!” Potter said, his voice dropping into a dangerous growl. It was not an improvement on the screeching of before. It made the hair on Draco's arms stand on end. He rubbed them nervously.
“I knew you were up to something! You always are,” Potter was raving again, his voice raised and his arms gesturing madly. “I should have made you tell me what you'd done, then you could have undone it then.”
“What are you on about, you great arse?” Draco said. “I haven't even seen you since Belta...” Suddenly the world faded away, squeezing out every thing but him and Potter and the memory of the fertility potion, splattered across Potter and Astoria as they stood together on one point of the triangle while Draco finished the spell.
And Astoria was pregnant. Oh, fuck.
*
As it turned out, Potter was indeed pregnant. And furious. They spent the next few hours arguing about it, and Potter had left in as much a fury as he'd arrived in. He'd been gone for over an hour now, and Draco was still shocked.
Apparently the ritual had worked too well. Potter had conceived at the same moment that Astoria did, which explained the dual ribbons that had resulted from the ritual. Draco was astounded. Not only did the ritual work...it really worked.
“Draco?” Astoria called, waving her wand to illuminate the room. “Plinky told me that Harry Potter was here. Has he gone? What did he want?”
Draco looked up at her, his face devoid of all expression. “Yes, he's gone,” he answered quietly. His manner was remarkably calm, and it was in complete odds with how he was feeling.
“What did he have to say?” Astoria asked.
“He, uhh,” he trailed off, unsure of what to say. How does one tell his pregnant wife that their unborn child, a singleton, would have sibling. A step sibling. A step sibling being carried by a man. Draco was confused, bewildered and...well, he didn't know what he was.
“Draco? Are you in there?” Astoria waved an elegant hand in front of his face.
“What?” Draco jerked back into reality, looking at Astoria in confusion.
“Are you alright?” she asked. “You don't look well. What did Potter have to say?”
“He, uhh...”
“Yes, you've already said that,” Astoria crossed her arms over her bosom.
Draco looked up at her with wild eyes. "I'm starting to sound like him," he breathed. He looked up and said, "I'm sorry, I think...I think I'm in shock,”
Astoria sat down on the arm of his chair, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. Draco took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment, hoping to gain some strength. For the first time, Draco wished for a moment that he'd been a Gryffindor. And then he promptly wished he could obliviate himself.
“He came to tell me, uhh, to tell us,” he paused, still unsure how to go on. He took another deep breath. “He's pregnant.” Finally, the words came, honest and unadultered.
“He's what?” Astoria's voice was more than a little screechy, and Draco winced.
“He's pregnant,” Draco repeated.
“I don't understand,” Astoria said, sounding like Draco felt.
“Neither do I,” Draco said, sighing. “But you saw what happened when he stumbled into the ritual, the bumbling ape.”
“I remember,” Astoria shook her head in amazement. Silence fell between them, as they both tried to absorb the information.
Finally, Astoria broke the silence. “Well, there is a bright side.”
Draco looked up at her. “What could possibly be bright about Harry Potter carrying my child?”
“Well,” she said, arching a pale brow. “At least the plan worked.”
Draco stared at her in shock before bursting into peals of laughter. Astoria joined him, unable to contain the hysteria.
Finally the laughter subsided, and Draco pulled Astoria into his lap, hugging her tightly.
“Thank you,” he said softly, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I needed that.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“I don't know,” Draco responded. “What should I do?”
Astoria sighed, running her hands through his fine hair. “Get to know him.”
“What?” Draco pulled back, scoffing at her. “Why on earth would I do that?”
“Draco, regardless of how you feel about him, the man is carrying your child. You're stuck with him for the rest of your life, whether you like it or not. We both are.”
“That doesn't mean I have to like him,” Draco huffed.
“As a matter of fact, it does,” Astoria insisted. “You will be co-parenting with him. We all will, together. Our children will be raised together. We'll have to come to consensus about their upbringing, education, everything. How are we going to accomplish that if the two of you cannot be in the same room without throwing curses and insults?”
“The idea is ludicrous,” Draco exclaimed, thrusting Astoria off his lap and pacing around the room. “Potter is a self righteous, attention seeking, dimwitted ape. I despise him and I always will.”
“Draco,” Astoria stalked him across the room, halting his motions with a hand on his shoulder. “You have to try.”
“No,” he exclaimed. “I can't. Don't make me.”
“I can't make you do anything, but you know it's the right thing to do.”
“He's insufferable.” Draco shrugged her hand off.
“Perhaps. But he's also the father of your child. Or, the mother, I don't know how this works exactly.”
Draco scoffed at her attempt to lighten his mood. “Don't be ridiculous.”
“I can't help it. The situation demands it,” she said, smirking at him.
“Well, I won't argue with that,” he said with an eye roll.
“We have to work it out Draco.”
He sighed, turning and slumping against her in defeat. “Fine,” he agreed. “I'll owl him in the morning.”
“Thank you,” Astoria said. “We'll work it out, you'll see. We'll do it together.”
He wrapped his arms around her. “You're the best friend I've ever had, you know.”
“I know,” she said, kissing his hair and smiling. “The feeling is mutual.”
June 19th
Harry woke suddenly, the remnants of a vivid dream already fading. It was quickly forgotten in the rush to the toilet, where he lost what was left of his dinner.
After a thorough tooth brushing and a splash of water on his face, he felt much more human. However, he also still felt pregnant. Queasy, exhausted and tender...he had definitely felt better. He was still in a state of shock. He'd never heard of men getting pregnant before, by magic or otherwise. On the other hand, there was plenty of things he hadn't heard of before Hagrid rescued him from the Dursley's.
Still, the idea that he was pregnant, with Draco Malfoy's baby no less, was difficult to accept. If it weren't for the midwife's assurances that he was indeed pregnant, he would assume he'd been put under a spell.
He scoffed at that...he was under a spell, so to speak. According to Hermione and her ever present research, it was a very powerful and ancient spell created for those who were unable to conceive by other means. Harry couldn't help but wonder why Draco and Astoria Malfoy needed such a spell to conceive. As much as it pained him to admit it, they were both attractive people.
He wasn't sure he wanted to find out, but he realized he likely would. As unwanted and unexpected as the event was, the fact remained that he was having a baby with Draco Malfoy.
He was attempting to sip some very weak peppermint tea when a large, regal looking owl tapped on the window. He untied a scroll stamped with an elaborate 'M' before giving the owl a treat. It didn't leave however, instead it settled on the sill and seemed to be waiting for a response.
“Typical,” Harry muttered under his breath. Malfoy would insist on an immediate response, clearly not happy with letting Harry answer in his own time. He shook his head in exasperation as he opened it and read.
Scarhead Potter Harry,
Astoria insists I must apologize for my behavior last night. Your unwanted unexpected visit came as...quite a surprise. As did your news.
I'm willing to accept culpability, though if you hadn't bumbled in like an overgrown ape stuck your nose in where it doesn't followed Astoria, it would never have happened.
We need to talk. Please come to the Manor today for tea so we can discuss this fiasco you've embroiled us in our situation. Please respond by return owl.
Draco Malfoy.
Harry sighed, crumpling the parchment in his hand. Damn Draco Malfoy. That arrogant, snotty, pretentious wanker. Despite his implications, it wasn't Harry's fault. If Malfoy hadn't been unable to impregnate his wife the old fashioned way, instead of performing a powerful and dangerous ritual in public, this never would have happened.
Harry felt a wave of pure anger rush over him. It was a feeling he was becoming accustomed to. He'd been in a near constant state of fury since the midwife had diagnosed him and he'd put two and two together. Malfoy's reaction only made it worse. He had been utterly unapologetic and downright belligerent about Harry's situation. He was the cause of it, after all, Harry fumed.
He continued fuming for almost a half an hour, pausing once to vomit the small amount of tea he'd managed to ingest, before scribbling a response and sending it away with Malfoy's owl. He might regret this. No, he would regret this. But Malfoy was the father of his baby.
“Merlin, this is ridiculous,” Harry muttered angrily to himself. Ridiculous it might be, but that certainly didn't change the fact. He would meet with Malfoy. No matter the result.
*
Harry arrived at Malfoy Manor in an only slightly better mood than he had been in the last time he'd been there. He couldn't imagine that this meeting would end any better, but he had to try. For his baby.
He stopped in his tracks and turned around, then stopped again and shook his head. There were times when the situation was still so bizarre, so surreal that Harry had trouble taking it all in. He turned around again, forcing himself to keep putting one foot in front of the other until he was pulling the bell.
Malfoy was waiting for him in the same room he'd been in the night before. Harry stood just inside the door, unsure what to say and unwilling to break the silence.
“Potter,” Malfoy said finally, after they'd spent a few long moments avoiding each other's eyes.
“Malfoy,” he responded simply, nodding his head.
“Tea?” Malfoy asked, snapping his fingers for the waiting house elf.
“Uh, sure,” Harry said awkwardly, never having envisioned a time when he'd be taking tea with Malfoy. He shuffled forward and took the seat that Malfoy gestured to. They sat across the table from each other, in silence again. Neither of them wanted to begin.
After Plinky had laid the table with tea, sandwiches and cakes, Malfoy finally spoke up.
“I'm...sorry for my reaction last night,” he stated, pouring tea for Harry as well as himself.
“Oh, uh,” Harry stuttered, swallowing his annoyance and nervousness. “That's okay. You were an arse, but so was I, I think."
“Yes, you were,” Malfoy said. Harry's head shot up, meeting Malfoy's eyes for the first time since he'd entered the room.
“I can hardly be blamed for that!” Harry snapped, wondering for the millionth time why Malfoy made him so bloody angry.
Malfoy scoffed. “If you kept your nose out of other people's business, things like this wouldn't happen,” he said.
“I wasn't sticking my...no. I won't go there.” Harry took a deep breath, “Besides, these things have a way of happening to me, even if I manage to mind my own business.” He took a sip of his tea. “Why were you there, anyway? This wouldn't have happened if you'd done it somewhere less public, you realise.”
“I know that, Potter, I'm not an idiot,” Malfoy snapped.
“If you say so,” Harry muttered under his breath, earning himself a cold glare.
“The Hill possesses ancient power, and all the...fornication going on also contributed to the spell. It could have been performed somewhere else, but I wasn't going to take any chances.”
Harry nodded, nibbling the edge of a sandwich, desperately hoping he'd be able to keep it down. Puking here at the Manor was an humiliation he wasn't eager to experience.
“Why?”
Malfoy looked up, his brow crinkled. “Excuse me?”
“Why did you do it? It's rather drastic, I mean,” Harry said, placing his cup carefully in the saucer, breathing deeply through another wave of nausea.
“I have my reasons,” Malfoy replied, pointedly looking into his cup.
“I think I have a right to know,” Harry said sharply. “It affects me rather directly, don't you think?”
“It's none of your business, Potter,” Malfoy bit out, all but throwing his cup into the saucer.
“It is,” Harry insisted.
“It's not,” Malfoy insisted right back.
“What's the problem, Malfoy?” Harry asked. “Can't get it up for the missus?” Harry smirked.
Malfoy shot out of his chair, striding across the room, his back a poker straight line and faced definitively away from Harry. “Fuck off, Potter,” he snapped over his shoulder.
“I can't really do that, now can I?” Harry all but shouted back. “You've fucked me already!”
Malfoy spun around, eyes blazing. “If I fucked you, you'd damn well know it!” he yelled.
Harry blinked. He'd just been fishing for insults, but that one seemed to have hit close to home. Was Malfoy really gay? The idea made something in Harry's stomach twist and his pulse race, but before he could figure out what the was all about, his stomach protested, rejecting the tea.
He lurched out of his chair, searching frantically for a pot, a plant, anything that he could use. He'd rather die than vomit on Malfoy's no doubt ancient and priceless rug.
He was saved the indignity however, when Astoria Malfoy swept into the room bearing a ceramic bucket. She handed it to him and gave him a shove, seating him back in his chair. Not a moment too soon apparently. As soon as Harry's arse hit the seat he was vomiting up tea and bread into the bucket, heaving until there was nothing left but a sick taste in his mouth.
He came back to himself and realized that someone was petting his hair, murmuring soft words of comfort and encouragement. He blinked away tears, looking up into Astoria's warm blue eyes.
“What was that, Potter?” Malfoy demanded from over her shoulder. Harry looked up further, catching the sneer of revulsion on Malfoy's face. He looked back down at Astoria, murmuring a quiet 'thank you.'
Astoria stood and turned to face her husband. “What do you think that was, Draco? He's just as pregnant as I am, isn't he? It's bound to be even harder on him, not being made for it and all.”
“If you say so,” Malfoy scoffed.
Harry tried to bite back his retort, but it was out of his mouth before he could stop it.
“It's your evil spawn that's doing this to me, Malfoy,” he spat, glaring daggers into Malfoy's eyes. “No wonder my body is rejecting it.”
“Stop!” Astoria yelled, glaring at both of them in turn. “I won't have this anymore. You are both grown men, now start acting like it.” She looked down at Harry. “Despite the accidental nature of this...situation, that baby inside you is half Malfoy. And you're stuck with it, and us, so you'd best make the most of it.”
Harry blushed and averted his eyes from Malfoy's triumphant smirk.
“And you,” Astoria continued, turning to face Malfoy. “You're even worse. Harry may have stumbled on us at the worst possible time, but he was only trying to return the figurine. He didn't deserve to have this happen to him, but it did. I will not allow you to make this any harder on him with your childish attitude. We are going to have to find a way to make this work, despite your mutual animosity. Is that understood?”
Malfoy had paled under the weight of her scolding, and nodded jerkily, his eyes downcast.
“Good. Now let's get down to business, shall we?” She snapped her fingers, summoning a house elf to take away the bucket Harry was still clutching, then poured him a glass of cool water infused with peppermint. It tasted heavenly and settled his stomach. He breathed a sigh of relief.
“Sit down, Draco,” Astoria commanded, sitting herself in his chair. “Let's start with you, Harry. How are you coping with this?”
Harry took a deep breath, ignored Malfoy, and told her.
*
Two hours later, Astoria had managed to prevent Harry and Draco from coming to blows, had established a schedule of meetings, so they could 'get to know each other better' and had insisted that Draco accompany Harry to his midwife's appointments. Her skill at managing Malfoy and his reactions was fascinating to Harry, the fact that they had resorted to the ritual combined with Malfoy's assertion to Harry earlier had him utterly confused.
He had considered that Malfoy may be gay, hence the need for a ritual so that Astoria could conceive, but their easy intimacy threw that theory into doubt. Truthfully, he had no idea what to think.
What he did know was that he'd be sitting through dinner with them the very next night. He sighed, dropping heavily onto his couch. He had seen more Malfoys in the past two days than he had in the six years since he'd left school. And this was just the beginning.
June 29th
“Come in, Harry,” Astoria said, waving him to a seat at the rather large and ostentatious table, set for three, complete with candles and what seemed like more cutlery than Harry had in his kitchen.
“Please, be seated,” she continued, so Harry did.
“Thank you for the invitation,” he said politely, shooting a glance at Malfoy, who was standing off to the side with his arms crossed.
“You are very welcome,” Astoria replied, glaring at her husband for a moment before sitting down across from him. Draco resignedly took his seat at the head of the table, shaking out his napkin with more force than was strictly necessary.
“It is important that we get to know each other better,” she continued, ignoring Draco.
“I suppose it is,” Harry said, as the room filled with a small army of house elves who began serving the main course. Dinner passed with very little conflict, an occurrence that could be attributed to the fact that Malfoy had barely said three words together. It wasn't until dessert was brought out that the conversation turned to more serious matters.
“Have you given any thought to the child's upbringing?” Astoria asked suddenly. Harry stilled, his fork halfway to his mouth and looked up at her in surprise.
“Well, not really,” he said, glancing at Malfoy, who was, stabbing his trifle as if it had done him a personal wrong. “Isn't it a little early for that?”
“Oh, it's never too early,” Astoria assured him. “Draco and I have already discussed it, and we feel that it would be best if the child came to live with us at the Manor, where it could be raised along with our son.”
Harry gaped at her, letting his fork fall to his plate with a clank. “You...what?”
Malfoy scoffed and threw his fork down as well. “We want to raise them together Potter, or is that too much for you to understand? There should be no reason why we can't avoid the subject of it's...conception altogether, and raise both children as siblings.”
“Twins,” Astoria clarified. “We realize that this little...accident was our fault, so we'd like to make it as painless as possible for you.”
“I don't understand,” Harry said, resolutely ignoring Malfoy's scoff. “When you say, raise them as twins, do you mean, without me?”
“Of course we mean without you, you dim-witted twit,” Malfoy spat out.
“Draco!” Astoria scolded. “It...well, perhaps he could have phrased it more...politely, but yes, that is what we are proposing. There is no reason for your life to be disrupted, and we would be thrilled to have more than one child. It's doubtful that we'll ever have another one, so this seemed the perfect solution.”
“Oh, I see,” Harry snarled. “You get another baby, and you get me out of your lives for good. What kind of man do you take me for?”
“I was hoping you were a sensible one,” Astoria said, taken aback.
“Well, I'm not,” Harry hissed, ignoring Malfoy's snort. “This is one big fuck up that wasn't my fault and has nothing to do with me, except that it happened, to me. And now that I've got it, I'll be damned if I'll give up this baby. I probably won't ever get another chance, and even if I did, I would never deny it!” he exclaimed.
“I told you he couldn't be reasoned with,” Draco said to Astoria, who shook her head, her eyes wide at Harry's outburst.
“Reasoned with? You honestly thought you'd be able to convince me to give up my child? I grew up without parents, yet you still expected me to deny a child of my own blood? Are you insane?”
“Well, how do you propose we raise it, then?” Malfoy asked, standing and leaning against the table, his eyes flashing at Harry, a look very reminiscent of their school days.
“I'm keeping it! I'll be honest, and tell it how it was conceived, and that you're the other father...and I'll let it visit when it's older, but I'm raising my child. Me.” Harry stood up as well, glaring daggers at Malfoy, who glared daggers right back.
“Alone? No child of mine will be raised by a single parent, Potter,” Malfoy spit his name out as if it were poison. “You may be that low class, but we are not!”
“Low class? Well, maybe you should have thought of that before performing your stupid ritual in public! Besides, I don't care what you think, I'll raise this child on my own.”
“Please, I'm sure we can come to an agreement that would satisfy us all,” Astoria said, attempting to defuse the situation. It was too late, though.
“You will not!” Malfoy declared imperiously. “Astoria and I will raise it as our son's twin and that's final.”
“You can go fuck yourself, Malfoy,” Harry spat at him. “You won't get within 50 feet of my child if I can avoid it. You can count on it!”
With that, Harry pushed his chair back so hard that it clattered to the ground and then stalked out of the room, his errant magic causing the pictures on the walls to shimmer in his wake. He didn't care if he destroyed the lot. Malfoy Manor could go up in flames for all he cared.
*
Draco slammed the door to his suite, rattling the picture frames on his wall, much like the ones in the dining room had rattled at Potter's departure. He paced around the room, wanting to throw something, to smash something, to break something to dispel his anger. Potter had never failed to bring out the worst in him and tonight was no exception.
Draco dropped back onto his bed as exhaustion overtook him at last. Potter was as annoying, superior and sanctimonious as ever. But despite his stubborn insistence that he would deny Draco access to the child, he was also rather attractive. It was a fact which had not passed Draco's notice, though it only served to make him angrier. Being attracted to Potter was a humiliation he could not bear.
The thing is, he was having a hard time denying it, even to himself. Sure, the prat made him want to draw his wand, or even make a fist, and anything more than a few moments in his presence pushed Draco to the edge of his patience. Underneath that, desire was lurking, ready to pop out at the most inopportune time. If only he could remove Potter's obnoxious personality, just leaving the fine body and handsome face.
Yes, that's it. Remove the personality, then Potter would be accommodating and pliable. And less likely to talk back. He'd be totally pleasant and unresisting and...and Draco was bored just thinking about it. Apparently removing the personality was not a solution.
What do you do when the one person you've always hated above all others turns into someone you're attracted to, more attracted than you've been in a long time? Someone who would be much less attractive if they were more likeable?
“Argh!” Draco exclaimed, pushing up off the bed and pacing to the bathroom. He stripped off his clothes and turned on the shower, wanting to wash these confusing, contradictory thoughts away.
He'd come to realize that Astoria was right. Accidental though this odd pregnancy might be, it was still his child and he intended to care for it. He would have to convince Potter that they could share the responsibility of raising the child, without killing each other. Hopefully.
Besides, he doubted that Astoria would be willing to go through another ritual. She had insisted on a baby as part of their marriage contract and he doubted she would agree to another if they had to resort to the ritual to conceive. As the years went by, he was assured that it would be less and less likely that he would ever be able to get it up for her, without some kind of stimulant. They had tried those of course, but they all had damaging affects on his sperm, or so the texts had said. Draco believed them.
He'd always wanted more than one child. In weaker moments he'd found himself envying the Weasleys. Not their poverty or boisterousness, of course, but their productivity. He disdained them for producing so many children that they could barely afford to support, but he had long dreamed of having a baby sister. Now that he was an adult, he dreamed of a family, himself with some nameless, faceless man, the two of them in love and surrounded by children. Three or four, at least, he could well afford them.
The reality was very different. Same sex partnerships were frowned upon and quite rare. Such proclivities were spoken of quietly and never broadcast. Draco didn't even know of any other wizards or witches who preferred their own sex. He sighed, ducking under the shower spray and staying there as long as he could stand it. A hot shower and a wank was just what he needed to loosen up. He'd never sleep otherwise. Bloody Potter.
He washed his hair quickly, then soaped up his body, letting his hands wander a bit to encourage his arousal. Not that it needed any encouragement. Perpetually horny was a defining characteristic of being male and despite being gay, he was certainly a man.
He closed his eyes, bringing forth a vision of the same faceless man who populated his fantasies. The broad shoulders, lean muscles and generous cock. The capable hands that clung to him as he slid his cock into a firm, perfect arse. He moaned, squeezing and stroking, he could almost feel the muscular clenches of his partner's channel. He sped up, in reality and fantasy, his mind taking him across flat planes of stomach, to tight pecs and a strong neck.
He was so close, so close, he squeezed harder, leaning down in his mind for a kiss, focusing on red, damp lips and green, green eyes.
“Ungh,” he groaned, losing himself in the fantasy, knowing he would hate himself after coming down. But he didn't care.
Once his orgasm had subsided, he leaned against the cold tiles and panted, trying to erase the vision of Potter, sweaty, sated Potter with the blissed out green eyes and the hair as wild as his temperament.
“I am so fucked,” he whispered to himself.
Part two