Fic: After Effect, Harry/Draco, NC-17, [Complete]
Title: After Effect
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Summary: No one knew Draco had a daughter, but due to unfortunate circumstances surrounding the end of the War he'll have to bring her to school for his eighth year. Perhaps a bit of innocence can help to open eyes.
This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Chapter Fifteen
The Weasleys (along with Harry and Hermione) were outside playing Quidditch. Draco had told Harry that he and Carina would join them soon-he needed to have a talk with his daughter.
It was the twenty-third, Charlie had come home, and Draco had now met all the Weasleys, including Percy, who had been only a little less than warm. They’d also met Teddy Lupin, whom Carina had taken a special liking to. Having been surrounded by people so much older than her at Hogwarts for so long, this had been like a special treat. Teddy would be one in April. Carina certainly felt like a big shot around the little boy. She particularly enjoyed the way his hair would change colors every once in a while.
Draco had sat Carina down in a chair in the kitchen, ignoring the pout set firmly on her lips. She had not been happy about being kept from going outside with the others.
“Carina,” Draco said softly, taking his daughter’s hand. She continued to pout. “This is very important, darling. I need you to listen to me.” At this she seemed to become marginally more interested. “Tell me what you think about Harry.”
“I love Harry!” She sat up straighter in her chair, as though she’d been accused otherwise. Draco laughed.
“I’m glad.” He bit his lip and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Sweetheart, you know how most children have a mummy and a daddy that are married and love each other?” Carina nodded slowly. “You and I… We weren’t so lucky. Your mum died two years ago and left us alone with each other. You don’t remember her very much, do you?”
“No…” Carina said softly. Draco squeezed her hand.
“She was beautiful, just like you.” Carina smiled, though it wasn’t her usual, bright smile. Draco thought he could sense tears coming on and he wanted to stop before they came, but he knew this had to be done. He’d been dreading it, of course, but it simply couldn’t be put off any longer. He sighed and went right into it. “Sometimes, ‘Rina, boys can … they can love other boys. And I-”
“Harry told me that,” said Carina, her small voice cutting sharply across Draco’s.
“What?”
“Harry told me boys can like boys.”
Draco swallowed thickly and shut his eyes for a moment. Admittedly, he was a little concerned as to what Harry might have said to Carina, but he supposed that was out of the way right now, at least. He made a mental note to ask later.
“Good. That’s good. Well, I… I like Harry a lot, too, and-”
Once again Carina cut him off.
“Papa?”
The look on Carina’s face was a bit unsettling. Like she knew something that she shouldn’t. That a three-year-old shouldn’t. Shouldn’t be able to.
“Yes?”
She climbed onto his lap and rested her cheek against Draco’s heart and he closed his eyes again, settling a hand on her other cheek and holding her there.
“You love him, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question. It was more of a statement-an understanding. But the way she said it sounded so innocent-as though she didn’t know exactly what she was saying. But it brought tears to Draco’s eyes anyway because he knew what it meant and he’d been trying so hard for so long now to deny it. “Like mummies and daddies do.”
“Yes,” he whispered finally, dropping his own head onto Carina’s as he did so. “I do.”
“I miss mummy,” she said softly, and this time Draco could hear the tears in her voice. It was heart-wrenching. He wished he could tell her he did too, but he didn’t. He hadn’t loved her. He missed her in a way that anyone would miss someone who died, but not like a lover. Not like he knew he’d miss Harry.
“I know,” he said instead.
“Can people have two daddies?” she asked suddenly. Draco froze.
“…What?”
“Since I don’t have a mummy anymore,” she said, and Draco’s insides starting crawling around horribly, “can Harry be my other daddy?”
Draco didn’t have the slightest clue as to what he should say to that. It was such a large question. He’d never even told Harry he loved him. He still wasn’t even sure about how much he did! It was all so knew, so confusing. The implications of admitting something like that were… They were potentially catastrophic!
“I… That’s a big question, sweetheart. Harry and I have only been together for…” And then he stopped, because something occurred to him. He and Harry had been together for three months. So what? Did it matter? Really? Did they have to get married and make vows and be squishy and lovey-dovey for Harry to be Carina’s other parental figure?
No, something inside of him said. Because that’s not how he and Harry worked, anyway. They never had. Everything was a bit confusing and sloppy, but that’s what made it so special to Draco. Despite everything, they were together, and Harry lovedhim and Draco thought he was reaching the point of no return very, very quickly.
So he smiled to himself and nuzzled Carina’s soft blond hair and said, “I think so.”
“Good.” They were both silent for a few moments, Draco considering everything that had just been said while Carina breathed steadily in his lap. “Papa?”
“Mm?”
“Can we go outside now?”
Draco laughed softly and put Carina on the floor. She was sucking her thumb.
“Yes we can. They’re playing Quidditch, maybe you can pick up a few pointers, eh?” He winked at her but she only cocked her head. He rolled his eyes at himself as he led the way to the door. “In time, I suppose.”
* * *
Harry had no idea what Draco had wanted to talk to Carina about, but he hadn’t asked. Draco had looked extremely solemn. They’d been inside for a good ten minutes now and Harry had just hopped off his broom because George had called a time out.
Hermione was sitting on the grass knitting something-presumably some sort of clothing for Kreacher, as she’d been wont to do lately-and Harry sat down beside her.
“Hey,” he said, eyeing the clothing with a smirk. She certainly had improved a lot since fourth year. The Halloween costumes alone had been a testament to that. Hermione smiled at him and put the needles down.
“Hi, Harry.”
“What did you wanna ask me about Draco on the train?” He’d been itching to know, but he and Hermione hadn’t had much time alone since they’d gotten to the Burrow. This felt like the perfect opportunity for interrogation.
“Oh! I’m so glad you reminded me. Well, it’s not so much a question as it is an observation.” Harry raised a brow, silently prodding her on. “Right. Have you noticed that Draco’s been different since you two started dating?”
“Are you joking?” Harry laughed. “I wouldn’t have started dating him if he hadn’t been different.”
“I don’t mean in that way,” she said. Harry’s eyebrows dipped. “He was already a bit different when we came to Hogwarts, what with Carina and all. I mean since you started dating him. Have you noticed anything different?”
Was she getting at something? Was he a bad boyfriend for not noticing? Harry suddenly felt nervous.
“Er-I don’t think so…”
“Really?” she asked with a smile. “You haven’t noticed the way he’s a little looser? You haven’t noticed the more effeminate way he’s been carrying himself?”
“The … what?” Yes, he’d noticed that Draco’s a bit feminine. But Harry found it endearing and sexy. Was Hermione implying this was a bad thing? “He’s a little feminine, Hermione, so what?”
“I’m not criticizing it,” she said softly. “I’m just pointing out that he didn’t used to be like that. And I think it’s because… Well, I’m willing to bet it has something to do with the fact that you make him feel comfortable.”
The thought made Harry’s stomach feel all warm and tingly. He smiled unintentionally.
“You really think so?”
“Well, he certainly wasn’t that feminine before, was he? I’d never even guessed he was gay.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” said Harry, nodding to himself. “Wow. But … how did I do that?”
Hermione laughed and Harry felt himself blush. “Just by loving him,” she said, placing a hand on top of his. “Draco hasn’t had someone accept him the way you do in… Well, I don’t think he ever has, really. I doubt somehow that his parents would have liked the idea of a gay heir.”
Harry smiled down at their hands and tried to think about the way Draco had changed this year. Just in a few short months he’d become another person-in a good way, though. He still had that snarky attitude that could easily get on Harry’s nerves, and he was still a little bitch, but that was what made him Draco.
“’Mione,” he said softly.
“Yeah?”
“I think I love him.”
He looked up and saw her nodding. “I know.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“You don’t think I’m being ridiculous? You don’t think it’s too early? Aren’t you supposed to be the rational one?”
Hermione laughed. “Harry, love isn’t rational.” Harry scoffed.
“Right. Thanks, Dumbledore.”
Hermione fell back on the ground and laughed again, this time louder. Harry looked down at her with a brow raised.
“You know, that’s the second time I’ve been sarcastically called Dumbledore since this year has started.”
Harry lay down next to her so their heads were centimeters apart, though they both stared up at the sky. “Who else called you Dumbledore?”
“Ron.”
“What? When?”
“In Hogsmeade one time. While you and Draco were buying Carina’s birthday presents.”
“Why’d he call you Dumbledore?”
He saw Hermione turn her head peripherally so he did too. He could see the color of her eyes perfectly from this distance.
“I don’t remember,” she said. Harry had the feeling she did, in fact, remember, but he didn’t push. He only smiled.
“Oi, Weasley, I think our significant others have gotten together. Fancy doing the same?”
Harry looked up to see Draco and Carina walking toward them, then turned to look at Ron when he heard said red head making gagging sounds.
“Yes, he’ll do,” George said, nodding at Draco. He looked to Harry. “He’ll do very well.”
Harry rolled his eyes.
“Thanks, George.”
* * *
Draco was astounded by the amount of food that had been made without house-elves. Molly Weasley certainly did not take Christmas Eve lightly. Everyone had come to the Burrow for dinner and helped to set up a huge, weather-impenetrable tent out back, where a large table was put together along with beautiful Christmas decorations.
“Everyone” included literally everyone: there was Teddy Lupin and his grandparents, Bill and Fleur Weasley, Charlie, Percy, some nasty little creature whom Draco thought was called Mundungus, and even Kinglsey Shacklebolt, the bloody Minister of Magic.
After they’d all eaten most guests had gone home, save Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Percy, and Teddy, who was staying without his grandparents.
Everyone who was left retired to the living room in the Burrow, where Mr. Weasley set up a fire in the pit and Mrs. Weasley put on Celestina Warbeck, to almost everyone’s chagrin.
Harry pulled Draco over to a couch and curled up with him while Carina drew pictures on the floor with Teddy. Even Ron and Hermione cuddled up, though they didn’t usually like being touchy or intimate in public.
The family talked and joked and laughed and Draco felt an odd sensation in his stomach-like a balloon was swelling, and he felt ridiculously happy and warm. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley said goodnight around eleven, told everyone not to stay up too late so they’d be able to get up for Christmas tomorrow morning, and left them alone so it was only the children-well, the young adults, Draco thought wryly, and the actual children.
“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Draco said to Carina, who was still furiously scribbling away on a piece of parchment, though Teddy had fallen asleep on his own and was drooling.
“Nonsense!” George shouted. “Bedtimes are just made up by parents to suppress children.”
“What?” Hermione laughed. “Where did you even come up with that?”
“It’s a fact,” he said seriously.
“Teddy disagrees with you,” said Harry, and as if on cue Teddy wiggled a bit in his sleep.
“Probably a Hufflepuff,” said George.
“What’s a Huffpuff?” Carina asked idly, never taking her eyes off the parchment. Harry chuckled.
“That’s a very good question,” said George. “And one I cannot answer.”
“Not a very diverse group here,” Hermione observed, looking around the room.
“Nope,” Bill smirked. “Just us noble Gryffindors and Harry’s snake over there.”
“Leave Harry’s snake alone, I happen to like it.”
Harry’s head whipped around and he looked at Draco with his mouth open and eyes wide as the rest of the room burst into laughter. Draco smiled innocently at his boyfriend.
“What? I do.”
“Oh my God, who knew he was funny?” George, for the second time, nodded approvingly at Draco.
Harry noticed Ginny blushing furiously where she sat next to George, though she didn’t say anything. He wished Draco would be a little more subtle, if only for Ginny’s sake, because Harry did still care about her, but he knew it was hopeless. Draco didn’t tend to think about others unless it was family-or, more recently, Harry himself.
“I’m gonna put Teddy to bed,” Harry announced, removing his arm from Draco’s shoulders and standing up. “You wanna meet me in our room?” Draco nodded, standing up as well.
“Speaking of, I’m staying in Hermione and Ginny’s room tonight,” said Ron with a hand raised. Harry smirked at him. He and Draco hadn’t had the room alone at night since they’d been there.
“Sounds good to me.”
George wolf-whistled.
“In which case, I’m staying in George’s room,” Ginny said, an eyebrow raised at Ron. And then, after some thought, she added, “And I’m taking Carina with me.”
“Yes!” George punched the air. “Best bunk-mate ever!”
Carina giggled.
“If I don’t’ sleep tonight, I blame all of you,” said Percy. Harry laughed and went to gingerly pick Teddy up, resting the small boy on his hip. Teddy’s head fell onto Harry’s shoulder.
“Papa, will you tuck me in?” Carina asked.
“Of course, darling. Come on.”
As Harry started up the stairs with Teddy, who was staying in Bill and Fleur’s room, Draco and Carina headed to George’s room, Ginny following behind.
The room had no beds-instead there were two hammocks, one which Draco assumed had once belonged to Fred. He felt his stomach turn. Behind him, he heard Ginny sigh.
“It’ll be easy to set up another bed,” she said, walking slowly over to Fred’s hammock. She sat down in it and let her feet dangle, staring at the ground. Draco watched as Carina went over to her, having sensed that something was wrong. Carina tugged on her trousers.
“Why are you sad?” she asked quietly. Ginny looked at her for a moment before pulling her up into her lap.
“Did you know George used to have a twin?” she asked.
“Really?”
“Yep. This was his bed,” Ginny said, bouncing a little in the hammock.
“Where did he go?”
“He died,” said Ginny simply. Draco crossed his arms over his chest and looked down. He felt like he was intruding even though it was his own daughter on Ginny’s lap. Ginny looked up at him suddenly and he knew she was silently asking whether it was alright to say more-presumably about how he’d died.
He shook his head.
“How did he die?” Carina asked quietly. It sounded as though she was being told a fairytale, Draco thought, not a story about a war that had taken place under a year ago.
“I expect your dad will tell you when the time is right.”
Carina looked to Draco expectantly.
“Now’s not the time,” he said. He and Ginny conjured another bed together and set it in the middle of the room. Draco tucked Carina in and kissed her goodnight, telling her he’d see her in the morning for Christmas.
He was about to leave the room when Ginny grabbed his arm lightly.
“I just wanted to say that I’m happy for you and Harry,” she said quietly. Draco nodded stiffly.
“Thank you.”
“And, as his family, I have to warn you that if you break his heart I’m obligated to make you suffer.” She said this with a small smile.
Draco smirked at her and nodded.
“Point taken, Weasel.”
She rolled her eyes. “You know, ferrets are part of the weasel family.”
And that simple statement was more touching than anything anyone had said to Draco in a very long time, especially considering whom it was coming from. He tried with everything in him not to tear up, but it proved pointless. He wasn’t sobbing, but his eyes were most definitely wet.
“Night, Malfoy,” Ginny said, and closed the door on him.
Draco walked slowly down to his and Harry’s room, where Harry was sitting on one of the makeshift beds Mrs. Weasley had made for them removing his socks, his shirt already on the floor. This was the only bed they’d used, though she’d intended for them both to have one. Ron had rolled his eyes at them when they’d gotten into the same bed.
“Hey, handsome,” Harry said when he saw him come in. But his smile dropped when he saw Draco’s somber expression and the tears in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” He got up and wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist. Draco shook his head.
“You were lucky to have found the Weasleys,” he said quietly. Harry’s eyes beamed and he kissed Draco softly.
“I know. I’m so happy you’re getting along with them, Draco. But why are you crying?”
“I don’t deserve this,” he whispered, and his eyes shut and a tear finally leaked out. He felt Harry kiss his cheek, stopping the tear in its tracks. He let go of Draco, closed the door, and led Draco by the hand over to their bed. They both sat down on the edge.
“I don’t know what else I can possibly do to make you stop thinking that way,” said Harry sadly.
Draco chuckled, and yet another few tears came out.
“You don’t have to do anything. I’m a Malfoy, remember? I’ll take it anyway.”
Harry smiled and climbed on top of him, burying his face in Draco’s neck.
“I still wish you could see how amazing you are.”
Draco arched his neck as Harry began kissing him gently, just enough to tease.
“Show me,” he whispered, and Harry stilled, lips still attached to his neck. He pulled away after a few seconds and stared into Draco’s eyes.
“How?”
Draco bit his lip and leaned up to kiss Harry softly, just a touch of the lips. “Fuck me,” he said. Harry pushed him back down by his chest. His eyes were wide as saucers.
“Isn’t that a little crude?” he asked breathlessly. Draco shrugged.
“I like to think of it as passionate.”
Harry gave him a pointed look.
“Are you sure?”
“Are you gonna fuck me or not, Potter?” Draco drawled, though he couldn’t hide a smile. Harry smiled back at him, though it was a bit feral and his eyes now looked hungry. He bent again and nipped at Draco’s jaw, drawing forth a gasp.
“I thought you weren’t ready,” he mumbled, but even as he said this his hands were climbing down Draco’s torso until they slipped under the hem of his shirt and began pulling it up. Draco helped him take it off and Harry threw it on the floor, moving immediately to Draco’s trousers next. Draco sat up on his elbows and watched. Harry was beginning to sweat; he was nearly frantic, his fingers shaking and his breathing unsteady.
“I wasn’t. Now I am.” Just as he got the words out Harry managed to get the button and zipper undone and Draco lifted his hips so that they could be pulled down and off his feet, leaving him only in his boxers. From where Harry sat straddling Draco’s calves he bent over and kissed Draco’s inner thigh. Draco hissed and tilted his head back.
Harry then proceeded to remove Draco’s pants slowly, taking the time to kiss every inch of bared skin, and then quickly and unceremoniously tugged off his own trousers and pants, his glasses landing somewhere in the pile. He dug around beneath the mattress for the small bottle of lube they’d been using to fool around when at arbitrary intervals during the day when Ron wasn’t around.
Prepping Draco wasn’t difficult. They’d done this before. But it felt different to Draco because this time he knew something else was coming next. Every finger Harry slipped inside of him felt like it was leading up to something more-like it was a teaser for something better. By the time Harry was easily pushing three fingers into him Draco was astounded by his own need.
“Now, Harry,” he whispered, grabbing fitfully for the messy black nest in front of his face. Harry slowly removed his fingers and took Draco’s legs, placing them over his broad shoulders. Then he bent over Draco and kissed him gently on the lips.
“Tell me you’re sure,” he said, looking back and forth between Draco’s eyes.
Draco stared back, so overcome with disbelief and happiness and love that he simply couldn’t find the words to tell Harry exactly how ready he was. There was nobody else in the world he’d have rather been with, nowhere he’d rather be, as crazy as that was, than with Harry at the Burrow, about to give himself over completely to this boy who was everything to him.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” he told him, steadily meeting Harry’s green gaze. Harry must have been slicking himself up while they’d been staring at each other, because as soon as Draco had said those words he felt the blunt head of Harry’s cock pushing at his entrance. It felt so odd, but it felt so right that it was Harry. He tried to control his breathing, but it was hard. He was nervous, after all. Harry gripped Draco’s calf with one hand and his thigh with the other, pushing in slowly, giving Draco time to adjust, though he looked as though he probably needed the time himself because his eyes were screwed tightly shut.
“You okay?” Draco laughed breathlessly. Harry’s eyes shot open and he beamed at Draco.
“You feel amazing,” he whispered, and he kissed Draco again.
“Glad to hear i-” Draco was cut off when Harry gave a particularly sharp thrust, sending a shock of pain up his spine. His head fell back and he groaned.
“Sorry,” Harry said quickly. “Okay?”
Draco merely nodded, wishing he was capable of speech so he could tell Harry that, while this was extremely painful, it was also very likely the most incredible experience of his life. He felt so full. And he loved it.
It took a few more minutes, but Harry finally pushed all the way, until his balls were resting lightly against Draco’s backside. He sighed heavily and looked down at Draco. Draco swallowed thickly and took a few deep breaths of his own, getting used to the feeling. The pain was quickly fading to a dull throb, though, and he found himself wanting nothing more than for Harry to move.
“Harry.” Harry brought his lips down onto Draco's so they rested together. “Fuck me,” he said against Harry’s lips. He felt Harry groan, and not a moment later he was pulling back out and then thrusting back in, not harshly, but he picked up the pace rather quickly.
He’d heard Harry make noises during foreplay before, of course, but somehow this was different. These were amplified a thousand times, ringing in Draco’s ears as though they were in the middle of a Quidditch stadium. It made sense, too, because the feeling of having Harry inside of him, rocking into him, making such incredible noises because of him was like flying-even better, perhaps. Draco dragged his nails down Harry’s back and thrashed and writhed and screamed and begged and he didn’t care because this was perfect.
Harry was saying Draco’s name in his ear, whispering it like he was worshipping him.
“I love you,” he whimpered as his thrusts became more erratic and he bit down particularly harshly on Draco’s neck. Draco stopped making tracks in Harry’s back in order to dig his nails into one spot, making Harry cry out. He could feel tears streaming down his face and he couldn’t tell if they were from the pain or the pleasure-indeed, he couldn’t remember if he’d been crying or not before Harry had told him he loved him. And then he couldn’t keep the sentiment back any longer himself and he found himself shouting it, as though the words had been attempting to escape this whole time and finally they’d caught Draco off guard.
“I love you,” he sobbed, and he felt Harry’s fingers tighten on his hips. “God, I love you.”
Harry shouted his orgasm not a moment later, thrusting deep into Draco’s body and biting his shoulder, only partially muffling his cry of release. As soon as Draco felt Harry’s come fill his body he, too, reached his climax, and he pulled Harry down into a harsh kiss.
Harry flopped down onto the bed next to Draco and reached for his wand, lazily spelling the mess away. Draco was breathing heavily, staring up at the dark ceiling, listening to his heart rate slowly come down. He felt Harry sidle up next to him and wrap his arms around Draco, pulling him close.
“Did you mean it?” he whispered after a few moments.
“Did I mean what?”
“That you love me.”
Draco took a few moments before nodding. He turned to look at Harry and Harry was smiling up at him so adoringly that Draco couldn’t remember for a second why he’d ever not wanted to admit that he loved this boy.
“I love you so much, Harry.”
A clock downstairs chimed midnight and Harry smiled at him and leaned in for another kiss.
“Merry Christmas, Draco.”
“Merry Christmas, Harry.”
He watched as Harry closed his eyes and settled in to sleep, holding Draco against him like a teddy bear. Draco lay his head on Harry’s chest and listened to his heartbeat, thinking that, just maybe, everything really was going to be okay.
FIN
Link to Epilogue
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Summary: No one knew Draco had a daughter, but due to unfortunate circumstances surrounding the end of the War he'll have to bring her to school for his eighth year. Perhaps a bit of innocence can help to open eyes.
This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Chapter Fifteen
The Weasleys (along with Harry and Hermione) were outside playing Quidditch. Draco had told Harry that he and Carina would join them soon-he needed to have a talk with his daughter.
It was the twenty-third, Charlie had come home, and Draco had now met all the Weasleys, including Percy, who had been only a little less than warm. They’d also met Teddy Lupin, whom Carina had taken a special liking to. Having been surrounded by people so much older than her at Hogwarts for so long, this had been like a special treat. Teddy would be one in April. Carina certainly felt like a big shot around the little boy. She particularly enjoyed the way his hair would change colors every once in a while.
Draco had sat Carina down in a chair in the kitchen, ignoring the pout set firmly on her lips. She had not been happy about being kept from going outside with the others.
“Carina,” Draco said softly, taking his daughter’s hand. She continued to pout. “This is very important, darling. I need you to listen to me.” At this she seemed to become marginally more interested. “Tell me what you think about Harry.”
“I love Harry!” She sat up straighter in her chair, as though she’d been accused otherwise. Draco laughed.
“I’m glad.” He bit his lip and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Sweetheart, you know how most children have a mummy and a daddy that are married and love each other?” Carina nodded slowly. “You and I… We weren’t so lucky. Your mum died two years ago and left us alone with each other. You don’t remember her very much, do you?”
“No…” Carina said softly. Draco squeezed her hand.
“She was beautiful, just like you.” Carina smiled, though it wasn’t her usual, bright smile. Draco thought he could sense tears coming on and he wanted to stop before they came, but he knew this had to be done. He’d been dreading it, of course, but it simply couldn’t be put off any longer. He sighed and went right into it. “Sometimes, ‘Rina, boys can … they can love other boys. And I-”
“Harry told me that,” said Carina, her small voice cutting sharply across Draco’s.
“What?”
“Harry told me boys can like boys.”
Draco swallowed thickly and shut his eyes for a moment. Admittedly, he was a little concerned as to what Harry might have said to Carina, but he supposed that was out of the way right now, at least. He made a mental note to ask later.
“Good. That’s good. Well, I… I like Harry a lot, too, and-”
Once again Carina cut him off.
“Papa?”
The look on Carina’s face was a bit unsettling. Like she knew something that she shouldn’t. That a three-year-old shouldn’t. Shouldn’t be able to.
“Yes?”
She climbed onto his lap and rested her cheek against Draco’s heart and he closed his eyes again, settling a hand on her other cheek and holding her there.
“You love him, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question. It was more of a statement-an understanding. But the way she said it sounded so innocent-as though she didn’t know exactly what she was saying. But it brought tears to Draco’s eyes anyway because he knew what it meant and he’d been trying so hard for so long now to deny it. “Like mummies and daddies do.”
“Yes,” he whispered finally, dropping his own head onto Carina’s as he did so. “I do.”
“I miss mummy,” she said softly, and this time Draco could hear the tears in her voice. It was heart-wrenching. He wished he could tell her he did too, but he didn’t. He hadn’t loved her. He missed her in a way that anyone would miss someone who died, but not like a lover. Not like he knew he’d miss Harry.
“I know,” he said instead.
“Can people have two daddies?” she asked suddenly. Draco froze.
“…What?”
“Since I don’t have a mummy anymore,” she said, and Draco’s insides starting crawling around horribly, “can Harry be my other daddy?”
Draco didn’t have the slightest clue as to what he should say to that. It was such a large question. He’d never even told Harry he loved him. He still wasn’t even sure about how much he did! It was all so knew, so confusing. The implications of admitting something like that were… They were potentially catastrophic!
“I… That’s a big question, sweetheart. Harry and I have only been together for…” And then he stopped, because something occurred to him. He and Harry had been together for three months. So what? Did it matter? Really? Did they have to get married and make vows and be squishy and lovey-dovey for Harry to be Carina’s other parental figure?
No, something inside of him said. Because that’s not how he and Harry worked, anyway. They never had. Everything was a bit confusing and sloppy, but that’s what made it so special to Draco. Despite everything, they were together, and Harry lovedhim and Draco thought he was reaching the point of no return very, very quickly.
So he smiled to himself and nuzzled Carina’s soft blond hair and said, “I think so.”
“Good.” They were both silent for a few moments, Draco considering everything that had just been said while Carina breathed steadily in his lap. “Papa?”
“Mm?”
“Can we go outside now?”
Draco laughed softly and put Carina on the floor. She was sucking her thumb.
“Yes we can. They’re playing Quidditch, maybe you can pick up a few pointers, eh?” He winked at her but she only cocked her head. He rolled his eyes at himself as he led the way to the door. “In time, I suppose.”
* * *
Harry had no idea what Draco had wanted to talk to Carina about, but he hadn’t asked. Draco had looked extremely solemn. They’d been inside for a good ten minutes now and Harry had just hopped off his broom because George had called a time out.
Hermione was sitting on the grass knitting something-presumably some sort of clothing for Kreacher, as she’d been wont to do lately-and Harry sat down beside her.
“Hey,” he said, eyeing the clothing with a smirk. She certainly had improved a lot since fourth year. The Halloween costumes alone had been a testament to that. Hermione smiled at him and put the needles down.
“Hi, Harry.”
“What did you wanna ask me about Draco on the train?” He’d been itching to know, but he and Hermione hadn’t had much time alone since they’d gotten to the Burrow. This felt like the perfect opportunity for interrogation.
“Oh! I’m so glad you reminded me. Well, it’s not so much a question as it is an observation.” Harry raised a brow, silently prodding her on. “Right. Have you noticed that Draco’s been different since you two started dating?”
“Are you joking?” Harry laughed. “I wouldn’t have started dating him if he hadn’t been different.”
“I don’t mean in that way,” she said. Harry’s eyebrows dipped. “He was already a bit different when we came to Hogwarts, what with Carina and all. I mean since you started dating him. Have you noticed anything different?”
Was she getting at something? Was he a bad boyfriend for not noticing? Harry suddenly felt nervous.
“Er-I don’t think so…”
“Really?” she asked with a smile. “You haven’t noticed the way he’s a little looser? You haven’t noticed the more effeminate way he’s been carrying himself?”
“The … what?” Yes, he’d noticed that Draco’s a bit feminine. But Harry found it endearing and sexy. Was Hermione implying this was a bad thing? “He’s a little feminine, Hermione, so what?”
“I’m not criticizing it,” she said softly. “I’m just pointing out that he didn’t used to be like that. And I think it’s because… Well, I’m willing to bet it has something to do with the fact that you make him feel comfortable.”
The thought made Harry’s stomach feel all warm and tingly. He smiled unintentionally.
“You really think so?”
“Well, he certainly wasn’t that feminine before, was he? I’d never even guessed he was gay.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” said Harry, nodding to himself. “Wow. But … how did I do that?”
Hermione laughed and Harry felt himself blush. “Just by loving him,” she said, placing a hand on top of his. “Draco hasn’t had someone accept him the way you do in… Well, I don’t think he ever has, really. I doubt somehow that his parents would have liked the idea of a gay heir.”
Harry smiled down at their hands and tried to think about the way Draco had changed this year. Just in a few short months he’d become another person-in a good way, though. He still had that snarky attitude that could easily get on Harry’s nerves, and he was still a little bitch, but that was what made him Draco.
“’Mione,” he said softly.
“Yeah?”
“I think I love him.”
He looked up and saw her nodding. “I know.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“You don’t think I’m being ridiculous? You don’t think it’s too early? Aren’t you supposed to be the rational one?”
Hermione laughed. “Harry, love isn’t rational.” Harry scoffed.
“Right. Thanks, Dumbledore.”
Hermione fell back on the ground and laughed again, this time louder. Harry looked down at her with a brow raised.
“You know, that’s the second time I’ve been sarcastically called Dumbledore since this year has started.”
Harry lay down next to her so their heads were centimeters apart, though they both stared up at the sky. “Who else called you Dumbledore?”
“Ron.”
“What? When?”
“In Hogsmeade one time. While you and Draco were buying Carina’s birthday presents.”
“Why’d he call you Dumbledore?”
He saw Hermione turn her head peripherally so he did too. He could see the color of her eyes perfectly from this distance.
“I don’t remember,” she said. Harry had the feeling she did, in fact, remember, but he didn’t push. He only smiled.
“Oi, Weasley, I think our significant others have gotten together. Fancy doing the same?”
Harry looked up to see Draco and Carina walking toward them, then turned to look at Ron when he heard said red head making gagging sounds.
“Yes, he’ll do,” George said, nodding at Draco. He looked to Harry. “He’ll do very well.”
Harry rolled his eyes.
“Thanks, George.”
* * *
Draco was astounded by the amount of food that had been made without house-elves. Molly Weasley certainly did not take Christmas Eve lightly. Everyone had come to the Burrow for dinner and helped to set up a huge, weather-impenetrable tent out back, where a large table was put together along with beautiful Christmas decorations.
“Everyone” included literally everyone: there was Teddy Lupin and his grandparents, Bill and Fleur Weasley, Charlie, Percy, some nasty little creature whom Draco thought was called Mundungus, and even Kinglsey Shacklebolt, the bloody Minister of Magic.
After they’d all eaten most guests had gone home, save Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Percy, and Teddy, who was staying without his grandparents.
Everyone who was left retired to the living room in the Burrow, where Mr. Weasley set up a fire in the pit and Mrs. Weasley put on Celestina Warbeck, to almost everyone’s chagrin.
Harry pulled Draco over to a couch and curled up with him while Carina drew pictures on the floor with Teddy. Even Ron and Hermione cuddled up, though they didn’t usually like being touchy or intimate in public.
The family talked and joked and laughed and Draco felt an odd sensation in his stomach-like a balloon was swelling, and he felt ridiculously happy and warm. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley said goodnight around eleven, told everyone not to stay up too late so they’d be able to get up for Christmas tomorrow morning, and left them alone so it was only the children-well, the young adults, Draco thought wryly, and the actual children.
“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Draco said to Carina, who was still furiously scribbling away on a piece of parchment, though Teddy had fallen asleep on his own and was drooling.
“Nonsense!” George shouted. “Bedtimes are just made up by parents to suppress children.”
“What?” Hermione laughed. “Where did you even come up with that?”
“It’s a fact,” he said seriously.
“Teddy disagrees with you,” said Harry, and as if on cue Teddy wiggled a bit in his sleep.
“Probably a Hufflepuff,” said George.
“What’s a Huffpuff?” Carina asked idly, never taking her eyes off the parchment. Harry chuckled.
“That’s a very good question,” said George. “And one I cannot answer.”
“Not a very diverse group here,” Hermione observed, looking around the room.
“Nope,” Bill smirked. “Just us noble Gryffindors and Harry’s snake over there.”
“Leave Harry’s snake alone, I happen to like it.”
Harry’s head whipped around and he looked at Draco with his mouth open and eyes wide as the rest of the room burst into laughter. Draco smiled innocently at his boyfriend.
“What? I do.”
“Oh my God, who knew he was funny?” George, for the second time, nodded approvingly at Draco.
Harry noticed Ginny blushing furiously where she sat next to George, though she didn’t say anything. He wished Draco would be a little more subtle, if only for Ginny’s sake, because Harry did still care about her, but he knew it was hopeless. Draco didn’t tend to think about others unless it was family-or, more recently, Harry himself.
“I’m gonna put Teddy to bed,” Harry announced, removing his arm from Draco’s shoulders and standing up. “You wanna meet me in our room?” Draco nodded, standing up as well.
“Speaking of, I’m staying in Hermione and Ginny’s room tonight,” said Ron with a hand raised. Harry smirked at him. He and Draco hadn’t had the room alone at night since they’d been there.
“Sounds good to me.”
George wolf-whistled.
“In which case, I’m staying in George’s room,” Ginny said, an eyebrow raised at Ron. And then, after some thought, she added, “And I’m taking Carina with me.”
“Yes!” George punched the air. “Best bunk-mate ever!”
Carina giggled.
“If I don’t’ sleep tonight, I blame all of you,” said Percy. Harry laughed and went to gingerly pick Teddy up, resting the small boy on his hip. Teddy’s head fell onto Harry’s shoulder.
“Papa, will you tuck me in?” Carina asked.
“Of course, darling. Come on.”
As Harry started up the stairs with Teddy, who was staying in Bill and Fleur’s room, Draco and Carina headed to George’s room, Ginny following behind.
The room had no beds-instead there were two hammocks, one which Draco assumed had once belonged to Fred. He felt his stomach turn. Behind him, he heard Ginny sigh.
“It’ll be easy to set up another bed,” she said, walking slowly over to Fred’s hammock. She sat down in it and let her feet dangle, staring at the ground. Draco watched as Carina went over to her, having sensed that something was wrong. Carina tugged on her trousers.
“Why are you sad?” she asked quietly. Ginny looked at her for a moment before pulling her up into her lap.
“Did you know George used to have a twin?” she asked.
“Really?”
“Yep. This was his bed,” Ginny said, bouncing a little in the hammock.
“Where did he go?”
“He died,” said Ginny simply. Draco crossed his arms over his chest and looked down. He felt like he was intruding even though it was his own daughter on Ginny’s lap. Ginny looked up at him suddenly and he knew she was silently asking whether it was alright to say more-presumably about how he’d died.
He shook his head.
“How did he die?” Carina asked quietly. It sounded as though she was being told a fairytale, Draco thought, not a story about a war that had taken place under a year ago.
“I expect your dad will tell you when the time is right.”
Carina looked to Draco expectantly.
“Now’s not the time,” he said. He and Ginny conjured another bed together and set it in the middle of the room. Draco tucked Carina in and kissed her goodnight, telling her he’d see her in the morning for Christmas.
He was about to leave the room when Ginny grabbed his arm lightly.
“I just wanted to say that I’m happy for you and Harry,” she said quietly. Draco nodded stiffly.
“Thank you.”
“And, as his family, I have to warn you that if you break his heart I’m obligated to make you suffer.” She said this with a small smile.
Draco smirked at her and nodded.
“Point taken, Weasel.”
She rolled her eyes. “You know, ferrets are part of the weasel family.”
And that simple statement was more touching than anything anyone had said to Draco in a very long time, especially considering whom it was coming from. He tried with everything in him not to tear up, but it proved pointless. He wasn’t sobbing, but his eyes were most definitely wet.
“Night, Malfoy,” Ginny said, and closed the door on him.
Draco walked slowly down to his and Harry’s room, where Harry was sitting on one of the makeshift beds Mrs. Weasley had made for them removing his socks, his shirt already on the floor. This was the only bed they’d used, though she’d intended for them both to have one. Ron had rolled his eyes at them when they’d gotten into the same bed.
“Hey, handsome,” Harry said when he saw him come in. But his smile dropped when he saw Draco’s somber expression and the tears in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” He got up and wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist. Draco shook his head.
“You were lucky to have found the Weasleys,” he said quietly. Harry’s eyes beamed and he kissed Draco softly.
“I know. I’m so happy you’re getting along with them, Draco. But why are you crying?”
“I don’t deserve this,” he whispered, and his eyes shut and a tear finally leaked out. He felt Harry kiss his cheek, stopping the tear in its tracks. He let go of Draco, closed the door, and led Draco by the hand over to their bed. They both sat down on the edge.
“I don’t know what else I can possibly do to make you stop thinking that way,” said Harry sadly.
Draco chuckled, and yet another few tears came out.
“You don’t have to do anything. I’m a Malfoy, remember? I’ll take it anyway.”
Harry smiled and climbed on top of him, burying his face in Draco’s neck.
“I still wish you could see how amazing you are.”
Draco arched his neck as Harry began kissing him gently, just enough to tease.
“Show me,” he whispered, and Harry stilled, lips still attached to his neck. He pulled away after a few seconds and stared into Draco’s eyes.
“How?”
Draco bit his lip and leaned up to kiss Harry softly, just a touch of the lips. “Fuck me,” he said. Harry pushed him back down by his chest. His eyes were wide as saucers.
“Isn’t that a little crude?” he asked breathlessly. Draco shrugged.
“I like to think of it as passionate.”
Harry gave him a pointed look.
“Are you sure?”
“Are you gonna fuck me or not, Potter?” Draco drawled, though he couldn’t hide a smile. Harry smiled back at him, though it was a bit feral and his eyes now looked hungry. He bent again and nipped at Draco’s jaw, drawing forth a gasp.
“I thought you weren’t ready,” he mumbled, but even as he said this his hands were climbing down Draco’s torso until they slipped under the hem of his shirt and began pulling it up. Draco helped him take it off and Harry threw it on the floor, moving immediately to Draco’s trousers next. Draco sat up on his elbows and watched. Harry was beginning to sweat; he was nearly frantic, his fingers shaking and his breathing unsteady.
“I wasn’t. Now I am.” Just as he got the words out Harry managed to get the button and zipper undone and Draco lifted his hips so that they could be pulled down and off his feet, leaving him only in his boxers. From where Harry sat straddling Draco’s calves he bent over and kissed Draco’s inner thigh. Draco hissed and tilted his head back.
Harry then proceeded to remove Draco’s pants slowly, taking the time to kiss every inch of bared skin, and then quickly and unceremoniously tugged off his own trousers and pants, his glasses landing somewhere in the pile. He dug around beneath the mattress for the small bottle of lube they’d been using to fool around when at arbitrary intervals during the day when Ron wasn’t around.
Prepping Draco wasn’t difficult. They’d done this before. But it felt different to Draco because this time he knew something else was coming next. Every finger Harry slipped inside of him felt like it was leading up to something more-like it was a teaser for something better. By the time Harry was easily pushing three fingers into him Draco was astounded by his own need.
“Now, Harry,” he whispered, grabbing fitfully for the messy black nest in front of his face. Harry slowly removed his fingers and took Draco’s legs, placing them over his broad shoulders. Then he bent over Draco and kissed him gently on the lips.
“Tell me you’re sure,” he said, looking back and forth between Draco’s eyes.
Draco stared back, so overcome with disbelief and happiness and love that he simply couldn’t find the words to tell Harry exactly how ready he was. There was nobody else in the world he’d have rather been with, nowhere he’d rather be, as crazy as that was, than with Harry at the Burrow, about to give himself over completely to this boy who was everything to him.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” he told him, steadily meeting Harry’s green gaze. Harry must have been slicking himself up while they’d been staring at each other, because as soon as Draco had said those words he felt the blunt head of Harry’s cock pushing at his entrance. It felt so odd, but it felt so right that it was Harry. He tried to control his breathing, but it was hard. He was nervous, after all. Harry gripped Draco’s calf with one hand and his thigh with the other, pushing in slowly, giving Draco time to adjust, though he looked as though he probably needed the time himself because his eyes were screwed tightly shut.
“You okay?” Draco laughed breathlessly. Harry’s eyes shot open and he beamed at Draco.
“You feel amazing,” he whispered, and he kissed Draco again.
“Glad to hear i-” Draco was cut off when Harry gave a particularly sharp thrust, sending a shock of pain up his spine. His head fell back and he groaned.
“Sorry,” Harry said quickly. “Okay?”
Draco merely nodded, wishing he was capable of speech so he could tell Harry that, while this was extremely painful, it was also very likely the most incredible experience of his life. He felt so full. And he loved it.
It took a few more minutes, but Harry finally pushed all the way, until his balls were resting lightly against Draco’s backside. He sighed heavily and looked down at Draco. Draco swallowed thickly and took a few deep breaths of his own, getting used to the feeling. The pain was quickly fading to a dull throb, though, and he found himself wanting nothing more than for Harry to move.
“Harry.” Harry brought his lips down onto Draco's so they rested together. “Fuck me,” he said against Harry’s lips. He felt Harry groan, and not a moment later he was pulling back out and then thrusting back in, not harshly, but he picked up the pace rather quickly.
He’d heard Harry make noises during foreplay before, of course, but somehow this was different. These were amplified a thousand times, ringing in Draco’s ears as though they were in the middle of a Quidditch stadium. It made sense, too, because the feeling of having Harry inside of him, rocking into him, making such incredible noises because of him was like flying-even better, perhaps. Draco dragged his nails down Harry’s back and thrashed and writhed and screamed and begged and he didn’t care because this was perfect.
Harry was saying Draco’s name in his ear, whispering it like he was worshipping him.
“I love you,” he whimpered as his thrusts became more erratic and he bit down particularly harshly on Draco’s neck. Draco stopped making tracks in Harry’s back in order to dig his nails into one spot, making Harry cry out. He could feel tears streaming down his face and he couldn’t tell if they were from the pain or the pleasure-indeed, he couldn’t remember if he’d been crying or not before Harry had told him he loved him. And then he couldn’t keep the sentiment back any longer himself and he found himself shouting it, as though the words had been attempting to escape this whole time and finally they’d caught Draco off guard.
“I love you,” he sobbed, and he felt Harry’s fingers tighten on his hips. “God, I love you.”
Harry shouted his orgasm not a moment later, thrusting deep into Draco’s body and biting his shoulder, only partially muffling his cry of release. As soon as Draco felt Harry’s come fill his body he, too, reached his climax, and he pulled Harry down into a harsh kiss.
Harry flopped down onto the bed next to Draco and reached for his wand, lazily spelling the mess away. Draco was breathing heavily, staring up at the dark ceiling, listening to his heart rate slowly come down. He felt Harry sidle up next to him and wrap his arms around Draco, pulling him close.
“Did you mean it?” he whispered after a few moments.
“Did I mean what?”
“That you love me.”
Draco took a few moments before nodding. He turned to look at Harry and Harry was smiling up at him so adoringly that Draco couldn’t remember for a second why he’d ever not wanted to admit that he loved this boy.
“I love you so much, Harry.”
A clock downstairs chimed midnight and Harry smiled at him and leaned in for another kiss.
“Merry Christmas, Draco.”
“Merry Christmas, Harry.”
He watched as Harry closed his eyes and settled in to sleep, holding Draco against him like a teddy bear. Draco lay his head on Harry’s chest and listened to his heartbeat, thinking that, just maybe, everything really was going to be okay.
FIN
Link to Epilogue