HP/DM: Dia De Los Muertos
TITLE: Dia De Los Muertos
Summary: Halloween, or All Hallows' Eve, was at the end of the month, and Draco was never too sure where Harry was going to be, emotionally, by the time it arrived.
Word Count: ~4400 words.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and her minions own everything related to Harry Potter and his magical world. I make no monies from this paltry piece of Potterotica.
Author’s Note: My most humble thanks to my friend and beta, MystressXOXO who makes me sound better than I really am, who makes me laugh, and can be my friend, all at the same time.
I am beginning the slow process of moving my stories to LJ. Most of them I will put somewhere in the "past". However, this story I wrote last year, but since it's my favorite of my own stories and it's significant to this time of year, I thought I'd put it in the 'present'. Mea culpa.
The cold mid-October rains were upon them, and the London autumn weather was starting to turn chilly with a slight morning fog that sometimes lasted into the late afternoon. Draco stood outside on their small fourth floor terrace that overlooked the street filled with cars and pedestrians below. He had a dark gray cashmere jumper on with black Muggle jeans and some worn but comfortable boots, yet he still shivered in the dull afternoon light. If October didn’t turn so gloomy, damp and cold, maybe he would not have to worry so much when it rolled around.
Halloween, or All Hallows' Eve, was at the end of the month, and Draco was never too sure where Harry was going to be, emotionally, by the time it arrived. If the signs stayed the same through the next two weeks, then he was certain that there would be hell to pay.
During the summer, things had been different, he reminisced. The weather was warm and even a bit hot. Draco thought back to the end of July when he had taken Harry out to his favorite restaurant for his birthday. A part of him still smiled at the thought that he was more nervous then about the beginning of their latest endeavor than he had been when he had asked Harry to marry him.
“Thanks for taking me to this place, Draco. I know it’s not your favorite restaurant, but I’m glad you were willing to eat here even if it is only once a year.” Harry smirked as he was looking over the menu at the Japanese restaurant.
“Nothing is too good for my baby, and besides, I had been thinking about what to get you for your birthday. Everything I looked at seemed so trite and meaningless, but I finally decided on something,” Draco said. He was a bit nervous because even though his present wasn’t an actual material item, well, not really; it was something from Draco’s heart; it was a lifetime commitment for both of them.
“Oh, really, what did you decide? Or is this something that I should wait until we get home to unwrap?” Harry said with a slight twinkle in his eyes that spoke of so much more.
“No, I think this is something that can be given to you in public.” Draco paused and then continued with a slight nervous shake in his voice. His hands seemed to start shaking, so he placed his palms down firmly on the cloth-covered table. He took a deep breath and continued. “In fact, I would rather you opened this in public. I don’t think I am brave enough to have this conversation in private. I would rather you not get too upset with what I’ve decided.” And with that, he lifted his hand and placed it into his interior coat pocked and pulled out a small rectangular box that was decorated with light blue wrapping paper and a white ribbon. He slid the box across the table to Harry.
Harry looked at him questioningly and asked, “Is it alright if I open it now before the meal?”
Draco smiled, his eyes not reaching Harry’s and feared the way his voice would come out, so he merely nodded.
Harry gently took off the ribbon and opened the box. He then carefully lifted the tissue paper out of place and gave Draco a look of utter confusion.
“I don’t get it, Draco. It’s just a tiny, shiny metal spoon. Am I suppose to eat my sushi with it?”
“Actually, Love, it’s not just any metal, it’s silver. The only metal a young Malfoy-Potter should eat with.”
Draco remembered discussions between he and Harry about having children, but they had always talked about it in terms of a “maybe, possibly, one day, in the future, if everything goes right” kind of way. So, he wasn’t sure what Harry would think about Draco having talked to Luna Lovegood about being their surrogate mother. When she had readily agreed, Draco got caught up in the romantic notion of it all and had taken it upon himself to have her impregnated before Harry’s birthday.
This he had done without Harry’s knowledge or consent.
The conception, for lack of a better word, had been relatively easy. With the latest in Muggle and wizard advances, the embryo would have Luna’s DNA removed and Harry's and Draco’s combined DNA would be in its place. When Harry had been asleep, Draco, with the necessary spell from the mediwitch, had magically extracted Harry’s DNA. He thought this would be a great present, but now that it was happening, he had his doubts about Harry’s reaction.
“What do you mean by a ‘young Malfoy-Potter’, Draco?” Harry was staring pensively at the spoon now as he woke Draco out of his thoughts.
“Well, I’ve been thinking. Now that we are both thirty-one years old, in a wonderful marriage, and are no longer old enough to be called children, maybe it was time to start having them instead.” Draco’s voice was wavering because he knew that Harry’s next reaction would determine how much he told his husband here in public and how much he explained to Harry privately.
Draco stared at Harry anxiously for his reaction, waiting for the handsome brunet to look up at him. He didn’t have to wait long. When he looked into Harry’s eyes, he knew the night might not go so roughly after all.
The look on Harry’s face was priceless. His eyes were watery, and the smile on his face was warm and wonderful. Harry seemed so excited about this that he practically jumped up from his seat at the table to give Draco a huge hug of thanks.
“Are we really going to do this? I mean, are you sure you’re ready, Draco? The last time we talked about this, you seemed kind of hesitant and uncertain. I know it’s never a good time to start having a family, and neither of us have been around little ones all that often, but are you sure you’re alright with this?”
“I am so certain of this decision that I’ve already started the wheels in motion,” Draco responded. His voice came out in a rush, and he realized his shoulders relaxed from a tension he didn’t know he was holding onto.
Just then, the waiter showed up, and the two young men ordered.
Over dinner, even with much trepidation, Draco explained all that he had done and all that was going to happen. Sometime early next spring, they would be hearing the pitter-patter of little feet. Harry not only took the news better than Draco hoped, but he was ecstatic about their baby. Their baby. The couple beamed with thoughts of what the future held.
That night seemed as if the future could not get here soon enough. That night held with it the promise of so many futures: Harry’s, Draco’s and their baby’s. That night was magical, and they wanted the elation to last forever.
Unfortunately, the wonder of that night ebbed away with the changing of the seasons. The nights began to arrive sooner, and the morning chill seemed to last longer. The beginning of autumn brought a somberness that rose as the remnant summer heat began to fade.
It had been over two months since Harry’s birthday and the warm night from not so long ago seemed like a dream. Here it found Draco standing outside on their balcony, watching a mother walking her young daughter across the street as the toddler wanted to let go and run ahead. The rain had stopped, but the mist still remained. It was getting dark; Draco shivered in the cold October evening.
In the summer, Harry was so excited with the idea of starting their very own family. True, they were both first and only children in their respective families, but Draco knew that it was the lack of immediate relatives, especially parents, that tended to draw Harry toward wanting children of his own. But with the coming of October, Harry had started to become withdrawn and moody.
Draco knew that October - and subsequently, All Hallows' Eve - would play havoc on Harry in one of two directions. On the one hand, Harry loved Halloween. It reminded him of Hogwarts: school days, friends, feasts, Quidditch, and some of the happiest days of Harry’s youth. On the other hand, Halloween was also the day his parents died. When Harry started to think about that, he could not help but get caught up with the ‘what ifs’ that life had to offer him. The melancholy that would overtake his thoughts then were something Draco feared might consume his husband.
Draco was hoping, at the end of September, that if he could get Harry to focus on the baby’s arrival by starting on decoration of their spare bedroom, then maybe Harry would feel relaxed and upbeat through October. He hoped Harry would carry through the month in anticipation of their bundle of joy. Unfortunately, though, preparing the baby’s room seemed to have the opposite effect on Harry than Draco had hoped. Harry began to fall into his sadness again. Draco was sure to find him in the baby’s room just sitting, his face showing nothing but despair.
So, Draco walked back into their home and, as expected, found Harry in the baby’s room, sitting on the rocking chair they had bought. It was their first real purchase for the baby. In his lap were two books opened, one on top of the other. The bottom book, Draco recognized, was one of their many books about the care and feeding of infants and the book on top was the photo album that Hagrid had given Harry all those years ago after his first year at Hogwarts. As Harry sat there, his hands gently stroked what must have been one of the many photographs that showed his parents. He was lost in his own thoughts, his face awash with a terrible sadness.
Draco was standing in the doorway to the room. He was silently watching Harry while leaning on the doorframe. He was willing to wait until Harry noticed him before he spoke. He could only imagine what Harry was thinking, but he thought it would be best to let the man have his moment, lost in thought.
After a few minutes, or maybe it was closer to an hour, Harry mildly shook his head and raised it to notice that his husband had been leaning in the doorway watching him. He didn’t trust his voice enough to speak and so he simply nodded up to see what was going on with Draco.
“Hey, I was just walking by the baby’s room, and I noticed that you had one of those “Everything You Wanted To Know About Babies, But Were Afraid to Ask” books. Did you find anything interesting in there?” Draco said. He didn’t want to give any impressions that he had been an observer on a private, unguarded moment of Harry’s nor did he want to let him know that he had been waiting.
Harry looked at him confused for a minute, before he lifted the photo album to see the baby book that was nestled between the picture book and his thighs. “I was looking at the section about when to introduce solid foods to babies and when to wean them off of formula when I got to thinking about my mother. So, I Accio’d the photo album to look at her.”
Draco made his mouth form a silent “Oh” as he walked into the room and squatted in front of his husband, placing one hand on Harry’s knee. He looked up into forest green eyes and gently asked, “So, what were you thinking about, Harry?”
Harry turned the photo album and showed Draco a picture of her right after she had given birth to Harry. Her hair was matted to her face, and part of her looked exhausted. Her eyes though, were shining in radiance as she held her newborn son, for the first time, in her arms.
“I was wondering about her,” Harry began. “Do you think she had completely finished breast feeding me when she died?” he asked. His voice was small and almost afraid to hear the answer or know the truth, regardless of what Draco knew.
Before he answered, Draco paused for a moment. He didn’t want to answer hurriedly or even seem off-handed in his response. He knew this was a field of emotional mines he was walking through, and he wanted each step to be as delicate as a rose petal and just as fragile. So, he reached his hands out, gently closed the books and placed them on the floor next to the rocking chair. Then, he very softly touched and brought together each of Harry’s hands and embraced them, warm and securely within his grasp. Then, he waited again. When he knew that he had Harry’s complete attention, he spoke very quietly.
“I think, Harry, that no matter what your mother was doing then to care for you, that without any doubt, she did it with the utmost in parental love. I think that is more important than whether she fed from her breast or a bowl full of mush.
“We don’t know about the past, but we can determine the future. In a couple of years from now, we’ll have a child of our own who’ll be close to a year and a half. Then we’ll be so busy with diapers, feedings, and chasing him or her that we’ll be thankful for a little bit of quiet time. Maybe then we’ll be able to answer this question.”
Then Draco stood up, taking Harry’s hands with him to pull the man up to a standing position in front of him.
“But in the meantime, let’s see if we can find something to do to keep us occupied.” And with that, Draco led Harry out of the baby’s room, closing the door behind them and guided Harry toward their bedroom room.
Draco was going to try to pull off a stunt that even he had some doubts he would be able to accomplish. He had used sex before to tell Harry he was sorry, to make him feel guilty, or to relieve stress, but he knew it was going to be quite a feat to get him to forget his past. But that didn’t mean Draco wouldn’t try anyway.
Draco walked backward, guiding Harry. He could see Harry’s face was torn between complete melancholy and disappointment. He knew that Harry wanted to talk about this more, to discuss his parents and all the what-ifs and what-could-have-beens as he had done before. But Draco didn’t want him to go down that path and so when they entered their bedroom, and he guided Harry to sit on their bed. Harry looked up and opened his mouth to speak, but Draco lowered his mouth to his husband’s in a scorching kiss. He licked the inside of Harry’s mouth, tasting his lips, stroking his tongue and doing everything he could to make the kiss as passionate as possible. He kept reaching into Harry’s mouth, deepening the kiss, waiting and hoping. He worked as hard as he could while waiting for Harry to respond to his kisses.
Then he felt it. Harry’s tongue began to lick back into his mouth, and Draco sighed because he knew that Harry was beginning to want this as well. When he began to feel Harry’s hands come around him and stroke his back and grab his hair, Draco pulled back from the kiss and against Harry’s lips murmured, “I want you to take me, Harry. Make love to me and let me feel all the pent up emotions that are going through you. Let me feel you inside me and make me think of nothing else.”
And then, for the first time, in almost a week, Harry began to smile. It wasn’t a full-blown, breathtaking smile, but more of an impish grin; but it was enough. “All right, Draco, if you insist,” he said.
Their lovemaking had started out gentle and warm. It was soft caresses and wet kisses with slight sighs and breaths. But, for Harry, it wasn’t enough, and by then, gentle stroking gave way to a deeper hunger. Sighs became moans and cries of desire with the passion building in each one of them.
Harry didn’t make love to Draco; he ravished the man. He poured into his husband all of his pent up emotion and let the façade of the last few days melt away as he used Draco’s body to search for the meaning of life. His gentle kisses across skin became nips and then bites. Licks and tongue taste teasing merged into sucking flesh and trying to gnaw and consume the other man. Even though rough sex wasn’t something that Draco typically desired, he remained as passive as his husband needed him to be. He wanted Harry to pour his heart out and knew that Harry’s inability to verbally express his way through his anxieties could some how be transmitted into more physical actions.
Draco moved to Harry’s will and let himself be taken and even abused, if necessary, because he knew this is what Harry needed. If he could get Harry to release some of his pain, then maybe Harry could relax enough to let it flow out of him later with words. Maybe they could get through this dark October and look to the coming spring again with enthusiastic anticipation.
Harry hastily prepared Draco, but he was still coherent enough to make sure Draco wouldn’t be hurt; he prepared Draco’s opening, first with his mouth and tongue, then with his fingers, before he lubricated his erection and entered the man. Draco felt so tight, so warm, embracing him, and he knew this was home.
When Draco gave him a nod, indicating that he was ready, Harry began to thrust almost without mercy. His pelvis movements were short and sharp, trying to maximize the sensations his cock was feeling, and with them came grunts out of his throat, which sounded more animalistic than human.
Harry wanted to come, and he needed it like he needed the air to breathe or Draco to love. He needed to release with this some of the depression that had begun to settle upon him. He needed to escape part of it before it began to consume him, so he forced himself to savagely fuck Draco. Yet some part of him was coherent enough to want Draco to climax with him. So, he scooped up a little more of the lube with his fingers and began stroking Draco, coaxing his husband’s climax out of him as well. Then when Draco came, his spasms around Harry’s cock gave the brunet the final push he needed, and Harry was finally able to climax, shouting out Draco’s name over and over.
When their breathing began to return to normal, Harry tenderly pulled out of Draco and did something that he had never done before. He began to go up and down Draco’s now sensitive body, gently kissing all the places where he had left bruises, bite marks, scratches, and such. He murmured healing spells above the damaged tissue, wandlessly healing as he moved around the lithe body. He delicately made sure not to overly caress Draco because he knew the blond was sensitive after sex. In as physical a way, he showed his anxiety, apologizing for his unusually aggressive behavior. He turned Draco onto his stomach, then his back, kissing away all the places that would ache in a few hours, apologizing with the gentle feel of his lips upon injured skin until he had completely atoned for his sins.
His last kiss was placed a couple of inches above Draco’s bellybutton, and then he laid his head on Draco’s abdomen, sighing in deep thought.
Draco knew better than to start immediately talking or even moving from this place, so he waited for Harry to begin talking. He did reach out and begin stroking through the thick, black hair almost as if he were petting Harry, trying to coax him to speak, and after ten minutes, Harry did.
“I’m sorry that I have been so moody lately, Draco. I know you are excited about the baby and about forming a family with children, but I can’t help but think about the worst that could happen.
“I mean, what if one of us dies or we both do? How are we going to be sure that our child will be with a family that loves them?
“I mean I was left on the doorstep of people who would keep me alive, but I had no love. As a child, I couldn’t remember my mother’s embrace, and there were times when I saw other kids laughing and enjoying their family, and I couldn’t help but wonder where my love was. Even now, I’m over thirty, and I still crave some part of the childhood innocence I never had.
“So, there is a part of me that is excited at the prospects of having a baby, yet it still terrifies me to know that we might be placing another life in such a precarious position. It isn’t right to do that without some guarantee that one of us will be alive and be there for our child no matter what.
“I know it’s not a reasonable request or even a reasonable idea, but I can’t help it.”
Draco had been stroking Harry’s hair over and over, his eyes were focused on his touch, fearful of what reaction he would read in Harry’s eyes. He could feel the wetness from Harry’s tears quietly spilling onto his skin. His own heart ached at the hole he couldn’t fill in his husband.
It was a hole that seemed to endlessly fathom the depths of Harry’s soul, sometimes consuming Harry in its depths, and if Draco wasn’t careful, sometimes it almost consumed the both of them.
The unknown future - it was as scary in its possible horrors as it was beautiful in its possible celebrations. He didn’t want to try to tackle Harry’s concern. He knew there were no guarantees and so he waited a little while longer, gathering up both his words and his courage before he spoke.
“You know, Harry, in Latin American countries, the day after Halloween, All Saints' Day, is called “Dia de los Muertos”. It is a day where families go to the cemeteries and burial places of their loved ones to celebrate their departed’s lives. They see that time as a joyous time where they celebrate the continuation of life. They know in the end we will all face death, but today, we are alive, and we should be grateful for this moment that we have to live.
“And maybe, that’s not a bad idea, to celebrate the lives of the dead. Maybe it can be a time of joy instead of only sorrow, and perhaps we can do that as well. Maybe this year, instead of thinking about the past as a time of regrets and what ifs, we can think about today, the coming of our child, and maybe even the future and the promise of tomorrow.
“Because that’s all we have, Harry, this moment in time and the promise the future can bring,” Draco said.
All Saints' Day
The bitter November winds were beginning to blow. And even through the cashmere jumper and woolen coat, Draco could still feel its sting as it caused a shiver through his bones. The sun was starting its descent into the western horizon as the temperatures, likewise, began to drop.
They had been working through most of the day, cleaning the graves of James and Lily Potter, weeding the plots. He and Harry had managed to clean out all the years of neglect on the plots and were tending to the decent vegetation that was still there. They had done everything the Muggle way as this was a cemetery where wizards lay next to Muggles. Draco was always amazed that only the graveyard could equalize people regardless of magical abilities, economical, sexual, social, or other ‘living’ status. Here everyone was the same.
They were taking a break now, eating some of the food that they had brought with them. The silence between them was comfortable and welcomed. Luna had come by earlier, as did Ron and Hermione, and they had discussed Luna’s latest maternal Healer’s visit. Everything was looking good, and the doctor anticipated a late March birth.
Thinking the same thing as Draco, Harry broke the silence.
“Well, Draco, it looks like we have a lot of work ahead of us, finishing up that nursery before the baby comes, but I think it’ll go smoother once we know the baby’s gender.
“Say, do you think we can do this again next year? Now that the family’s plot and gravestones have been cleaned up, it looks really nice, and I think my parents would be happy with it. It sure needed it.
“We could even make this a family tradition and bring the baby with us and introduce him or her to my parents. What do you think?”
Draco noticed that for the first time Harry was able to mention his family’s past without remorse and was able to talk about the baby again with eager anticipation. He knew some small part of Harry was getting past his own childhood grief.
The crisp, cold, November wind was blowing hope back into their lives, and with it a future worth looking forward to.
Summary: Halloween, or All Hallows' Eve, was at the end of the month, and Draco was never too sure where Harry was going to be, emotionally, by the time it arrived.
Word Count: ~4400 words.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and her minions own everything related to Harry Potter and his magical world. I make no monies from this paltry piece of Potterotica.
Author’s Note: My most humble thanks to my friend and beta, MystressXOXO who makes me sound better than I really am, who makes me laugh, and can be my friend, all at the same time.
I am beginning the slow process of moving my stories to LJ. Most of them I will put somewhere in the "past". However, this story I wrote last year, but since it's my favorite of my own stories and it's significant to this time of year, I thought I'd put it in the 'present'. Mea culpa.
The cold mid-October rains were upon them, and the London autumn weather was starting to turn chilly with a slight morning fog that sometimes lasted into the late afternoon. Draco stood outside on their small fourth floor terrace that overlooked the street filled with cars and pedestrians below. He had a dark gray cashmere jumper on with black Muggle jeans and some worn but comfortable boots, yet he still shivered in the dull afternoon light. If October didn’t turn so gloomy, damp and cold, maybe he would not have to worry so much when it rolled around.
Halloween, or All Hallows' Eve, was at the end of the month, and Draco was never too sure where Harry was going to be, emotionally, by the time it arrived. If the signs stayed the same through the next two weeks, then he was certain that there would be hell to pay.
During the summer, things had been different, he reminisced. The weather was warm and even a bit hot. Draco thought back to the end of July when he had taken Harry out to his favorite restaurant for his birthday. A part of him still smiled at the thought that he was more nervous then about the beginning of their latest endeavor than he had been when he had asked Harry to marry him.
“Thanks for taking me to this place, Draco. I know it’s not your favorite restaurant, but I’m glad you were willing to eat here even if it is only once a year.” Harry smirked as he was looking over the menu at the Japanese restaurant.
“Nothing is too good for my baby, and besides, I had been thinking about what to get you for your birthday. Everything I looked at seemed so trite and meaningless, but I finally decided on something,” Draco said. He was a bit nervous because even though his present wasn’t an actual material item, well, not really; it was something from Draco’s heart; it was a lifetime commitment for both of them.
“Oh, really, what did you decide? Or is this something that I should wait until we get home to unwrap?” Harry said with a slight twinkle in his eyes that spoke of so much more.
“No, I think this is something that can be given to you in public.” Draco paused and then continued with a slight nervous shake in his voice. His hands seemed to start shaking, so he placed his palms down firmly on the cloth-covered table. He took a deep breath and continued. “In fact, I would rather you opened this in public. I don’t think I am brave enough to have this conversation in private. I would rather you not get too upset with what I’ve decided.” And with that, he lifted his hand and placed it into his interior coat pocked and pulled out a small rectangular box that was decorated with light blue wrapping paper and a white ribbon. He slid the box across the table to Harry.
Harry looked at him questioningly and asked, “Is it alright if I open it now before the meal?”
Draco smiled, his eyes not reaching Harry’s and feared the way his voice would come out, so he merely nodded.
Harry gently took off the ribbon and opened the box. He then carefully lifted the tissue paper out of place and gave Draco a look of utter confusion.
“I don’t get it, Draco. It’s just a tiny, shiny metal spoon. Am I suppose to eat my sushi with it?”
“Actually, Love, it’s not just any metal, it’s silver. The only metal a young Malfoy-Potter should eat with.”
Draco remembered discussions between he and Harry about having children, but they had always talked about it in terms of a “maybe, possibly, one day, in the future, if everything goes right” kind of way. So, he wasn’t sure what Harry would think about Draco having talked to Luna Lovegood about being their surrogate mother. When she had readily agreed, Draco got caught up in the romantic notion of it all and had taken it upon himself to have her impregnated before Harry’s birthday.
This he had done without Harry’s knowledge or consent.
The conception, for lack of a better word, had been relatively easy. With the latest in Muggle and wizard advances, the embryo would have Luna’s DNA removed and Harry's and Draco’s combined DNA would be in its place. When Harry had been asleep, Draco, with the necessary spell from the mediwitch, had magically extracted Harry’s DNA. He thought this would be a great present, but now that it was happening, he had his doubts about Harry’s reaction.
“What do you mean by a ‘young Malfoy-Potter’, Draco?” Harry was staring pensively at the spoon now as he woke Draco out of his thoughts.
“Well, I’ve been thinking. Now that we are both thirty-one years old, in a wonderful marriage, and are no longer old enough to be called children, maybe it was time to start having them instead.” Draco’s voice was wavering because he knew that Harry’s next reaction would determine how much he told his husband here in public and how much he explained to Harry privately.
Draco stared at Harry anxiously for his reaction, waiting for the handsome brunet to look up at him. He didn’t have to wait long. When he looked into Harry’s eyes, he knew the night might not go so roughly after all.
The look on Harry’s face was priceless. His eyes were watery, and the smile on his face was warm and wonderful. Harry seemed so excited about this that he practically jumped up from his seat at the table to give Draco a huge hug of thanks.
“Are we really going to do this? I mean, are you sure you’re ready, Draco? The last time we talked about this, you seemed kind of hesitant and uncertain. I know it’s never a good time to start having a family, and neither of us have been around little ones all that often, but are you sure you’re alright with this?”
“I am so certain of this decision that I’ve already started the wheels in motion,” Draco responded. His voice came out in a rush, and he realized his shoulders relaxed from a tension he didn’t know he was holding onto.
Just then, the waiter showed up, and the two young men ordered.
Over dinner, even with much trepidation, Draco explained all that he had done and all that was going to happen. Sometime early next spring, they would be hearing the pitter-patter of little feet. Harry not only took the news better than Draco hoped, but he was ecstatic about their baby. Their baby. The couple beamed with thoughts of what the future held.
That night seemed as if the future could not get here soon enough. That night held with it the promise of so many futures: Harry’s, Draco’s and their baby’s. That night was magical, and they wanted the elation to last forever.
Unfortunately, the wonder of that night ebbed away with the changing of the seasons. The nights began to arrive sooner, and the morning chill seemed to last longer. The beginning of autumn brought a somberness that rose as the remnant summer heat began to fade.
It had been over two months since Harry’s birthday and the warm night from not so long ago seemed like a dream. Here it found Draco standing outside on their balcony, watching a mother walking her young daughter across the street as the toddler wanted to let go and run ahead. The rain had stopped, but the mist still remained. It was getting dark; Draco shivered in the cold October evening.
In the summer, Harry was so excited with the idea of starting their very own family. True, they were both first and only children in their respective families, but Draco knew that it was the lack of immediate relatives, especially parents, that tended to draw Harry toward wanting children of his own. But with the coming of October, Harry had started to become withdrawn and moody.
Draco knew that October - and subsequently, All Hallows' Eve - would play havoc on Harry in one of two directions. On the one hand, Harry loved Halloween. It reminded him of Hogwarts: school days, friends, feasts, Quidditch, and some of the happiest days of Harry’s youth. On the other hand, Halloween was also the day his parents died. When Harry started to think about that, he could not help but get caught up with the ‘what ifs’ that life had to offer him. The melancholy that would overtake his thoughts then were something Draco feared might consume his husband.
Draco was hoping, at the end of September, that if he could get Harry to focus on the baby’s arrival by starting on decoration of their spare bedroom, then maybe Harry would feel relaxed and upbeat through October. He hoped Harry would carry through the month in anticipation of their bundle of joy. Unfortunately, though, preparing the baby’s room seemed to have the opposite effect on Harry than Draco had hoped. Harry began to fall into his sadness again. Draco was sure to find him in the baby’s room just sitting, his face showing nothing but despair.
So, Draco walked back into their home and, as expected, found Harry in the baby’s room, sitting on the rocking chair they had bought. It was their first real purchase for the baby. In his lap were two books opened, one on top of the other. The bottom book, Draco recognized, was one of their many books about the care and feeding of infants and the book on top was the photo album that Hagrid had given Harry all those years ago after his first year at Hogwarts. As Harry sat there, his hands gently stroked what must have been one of the many photographs that showed his parents. He was lost in his own thoughts, his face awash with a terrible sadness.
Draco was standing in the doorway to the room. He was silently watching Harry while leaning on the doorframe. He was willing to wait until Harry noticed him before he spoke. He could only imagine what Harry was thinking, but he thought it would be best to let the man have his moment, lost in thought.
After a few minutes, or maybe it was closer to an hour, Harry mildly shook his head and raised it to notice that his husband had been leaning in the doorway watching him. He didn’t trust his voice enough to speak and so he simply nodded up to see what was going on with Draco.
“Hey, I was just walking by the baby’s room, and I noticed that you had one of those “Everything You Wanted To Know About Babies, But Were Afraid to Ask” books. Did you find anything interesting in there?” Draco said. He didn’t want to give any impressions that he had been an observer on a private, unguarded moment of Harry’s nor did he want to let him know that he had been waiting.
Harry looked at him confused for a minute, before he lifted the photo album to see the baby book that was nestled between the picture book and his thighs. “I was looking at the section about when to introduce solid foods to babies and when to wean them off of formula when I got to thinking about my mother. So, I Accio’d the photo album to look at her.”
Draco made his mouth form a silent “Oh” as he walked into the room and squatted in front of his husband, placing one hand on Harry’s knee. He looked up into forest green eyes and gently asked, “So, what were you thinking about, Harry?”
Harry turned the photo album and showed Draco a picture of her right after she had given birth to Harry. Her hair was matted to her face, and part of her looked exhausted. Her eyes though, were shining in radiance as she held her newborn son, for the first time, in her arms.
“I was wondering about her,” Harry began. “Do you think she had completely finished breast feeding me when she died?” he asked. His voice was small and almost afraid to hear the answer or know the truth, regardless of what Draco knew.
Before he answered, Draco paused for a moment. He didn’t want to answer hurriedly or even seem off-handed in his response. He knew this was a field of emotional mines he was walking through, and he wanted each step to be as delicate as a rose petal and just as fragile. So, he reached his hands out, gently closed the books and placed them on the floor next to the rocking chair. Then, he very softly touched and brought together each of Harry’s hands and embraced them, warm and securely within his grasp. Then, he waited again. When he knew that he had Harry’s complete attention, he spoke very quietly.
“I think, Harry, that no matter what your mother was doing then to care for you, that without any doubt, she did it with the utmost in parental love. I think that is more important than whether she fed from her breast or a bowl full of mush.
“We don’t know about the past, but we can determine the future. In a couple of years from now, we’ll have a child of our own who’ll be close to a year and a half. Then we’ll be so busy with diapers, feedings, and chasing him or her that we’ll be thankful for a little bit of quiet time. Maybe then we’ll be able to answer this question.”
Then Draco stood up, taking Harry’s hands with him to pull the man up to a standing position in front of him.
“But in the meantime, let’s see if we can find something to do to keep us occupied.” And with that, Draco led Harry out of the baby’s room, closing the door behind them and guided Harry toward their bedroom room.
Draco was going to try to pull off a stunt that even he had some doubts he would be able to accomplish. He had used sex before to tell Harry he was sorry, to make him feel guilty, or to relieve stress, but he knew it was going to be quite a feat to get him to forget his past. But that didn’t mean Draco wouldn’t try anyway.
Draco walked backward, guiding Harry. He could see Harry’s face was torn between complete melancholy and disappointment. He knew that Harry wanted to talk about this more, to discuss his parents and all the what-ifs and what-could-have-beens as he had done before. But Draco didn’t want him to go down that path and so when they entered their bedroom, and he guided Harry to sit on their bed. Harry looked up and opened his mouth to speak, but Draco lowered his mouth to his husband’s in a scorching kiss. He licked the inside of Harry’s mouth, tasting his lips, stroking his tongue and doing everything he could to make the kiss as passionate as possible. He kept reaching into Harry’s mouth, deepening the kiss, waiting and hoping. He worked as hard as he could while waiting for Harry to respond to his kisses.
Then he felt it. Harry’s tongue began to lick back into his mouth, and Draco sighed because he knew that Harry was beginning to want this as well. When he began to feel Harry’s hands come around him and stroke his back and grab his hair, Draco pulled back from the kiss and against Harry’s lips murmured, “I want you to take me, Harry. Make love to me and let me feel all the pent up emotions that are going through you. Let me feel you inside me and make me think of nothing else.”
And then, for the first time, in almost a week, Harry began to smile. It wasn’t a full-blown, breathtaking smile, but more of an impish grin; but it was enough. “All right, Draco, if you insist,” he said.
Their lovemaking had started out gentle and warm. It was soft caresses and wet kisses with slight sighs and breaths. But, for Harry, it wasn’t enough, and by then, gentle stroking gave way to a deeper hunger. Sighs became moans and cries of desire with the passion building in each one of them.
Harry didn’t make love to Draco; he ravished the man. He poured into his husband all of his pent up emotion and let the façade of the last few days melt away as he used Draco’s body to search for the meaning of life. His gentle kisses across skin became nips and then bites. Licks and tongue taste teasing merged into sucking flesh and trying to gnaw and consume the other man. Even though rough sex wasn’t something that Draco typically desired, he remained as passive as his husband needed him to be. He wanted Harry to pour his heart out and knew that Harry’s inability to verbally express his way through his anxieties could some how be transmitted into more physical actions.
Draco moved to Harry’s will and let himself be taken and even abused, if necessary, because he knew this is what Harry needed. If he could get Harry to release some of his pain, then maybe Harry could relax enough to let it flow out of him later with words. Maybe they could get through this dark October and look to the coming spring again with enthusiastic anticipation.
Harry hastily prepared Draco, but he was still coherent enough to make sure Draco wouldn’t be hurt; he prepared Draco’s opening, first with his mouth and tongue, then with his fingers, before he lubricated his erection and entered the man. Draco felt so tight, so warm, embracing him, and he knew this was home.
When Draco gave him a nod, indicating that he was ready, Harry began to thrust almost without mercy. His pelvis movements were short and sharp, trying to maximize the sensations his cock was feeling, and with them came grunts out of his throat, which sounded more animalistic than human.
Harry wanted to come, and he needed it like he needed the air to breathe or Draco to love. He needed to release with this some of the depression that had begun to settle upon him. He needed to escape part of it before it began to consume him, so he forced himself to savagely fuck Draco. Yet some part of him was coherent enough to want Draco to climax with him. So, he scooped up a little more of the lube with his fingers and began stroking Draco, coaxing his husband’s climax out of him as well. Then when Draco came, his spasms around Harry’s cock gave the brunet the final push he needed, and Harry was finally able to climax, shouting out Draco’s name over and over.
When their breathing began to return to normal, Harry tenderly pulled out of Draco and did something that he had never done before. He began to go up and down Draco’s now sensitive body, gently kissing all the places where he had left bruises, bite marks, scratches, and such. He murmured healing spells above the damaged tissue, wandlessly healing as he moved around the lithe body. He delicately made sure not to overly caress Draco because he knew the blond was sensitive after sex. In as physical a way, he showed his anxiety, apologizing for his unusually aggressive behavior. He turned Draco onto his stomach, then his back, kissing away all the places that would ache in a few hours, apologizing with the gentle feel of his lips upon injured skin until he had completely atoned for his sins.
His last kiss was placed a couple of inches above Draco’s bellybutton, and then he laid his head on Draco’s abdomen, sighing in deep thought.
Draco knew better than to start immediately talking or even moving from this place, so he waited for Harry to begin talking. He did reach out and begin stroking through the thick, black hair almost as if he were petting Harry, trying to coax him to speak, and after ten minutes, Harry did.
“I’m sorry that I have been so moody lately, Draco. I know you are excited about the baby and about forming a family with children, but I can’t help but think about the worst that could happen.
“I mean, what if one of us dies or we both do? How are we going to be sure that our child will be with a family that loves them?
“I mean I was left on the doorstep of people who would keep me alive, but I had no love. As a child, I couldn’t remember my mother’s embrace, and there were times when I saw other kids laughing and enjoying their family, and I couldn’t help but wonder where my love was. Even now, I’m over thirty, and I still crave some part of the childhood innocence I never had.
“So, there is a part of me that is excited at the prospects of having a baby, yet it still terrifies me to know that we might be placing another life in such a precarious position. It isn’t right to do that without some guarantee that one of us will be alive and be there for our child no matter what.
“I know it’s not a reasonable request or even a reasonable idea, but I can’t help it.”
Draco had been stroking Harry’s hair over and over, his eyes were focused on his touch, fearful of what reaction he would read in Harry’s eyes. He could feel the wetness from Harry’s tears quietly spilling onto his skin. His own heart ached at the hole he couldn’t fill in his husband.
It was a hole that seemed to endlessly fathom the depths of Harry’s soul, sometimes consuming Harry in its depths, and if Draco wasn’t careful, sometimes it almost consumed the both of them.
The unknown future - it was as scary in its possible horrors as it was beautiful in its possible celebrations. He didn’t want to try to tackle Harry’s concern. He knew there were no guarantees and so he waited a little while longer, gathering up both his words and his courage before he spoke.
“You know, Harry, in Latin American countries, the day after Halloween, All Saints' Day, is called “Dia de los Muertos”. It is a day where families go to the cemeteries and burial places of their loved ones to celebrate their departed’s lives. They see that time as a joyous time where they celebrate the continuation of life. They know in the end we will all face death, but today, we are alive, and we should be grateful for this moment that we have to live.
“And maybe, that’s not a bad idea, to celebrate the lives of the dead. Maybe it can be a time of joy instead of only sorrow, and perhaps we can do that as well. Maybe this year, instead of thinking about the past as a time of regrets and what ifs, we can think about today, the coming of our child, and maybe even the future and the promise of tomorrow.
“Because that’s all we have, Harry, this moment in time and the promise the future can bring,” Draco said.
All Saints' Day
The bitter November winds were beginning to blow. And even through the cashmere jumper and woolen coat, Draco could still feel its sting as it caused a shiver through his bones. The sun was starting its descent into the western horizon as the temperatures, likewise, began to drop.
They had been working through most of the day, cleaning the graves of James and Lily Potter, weeding the plots. He and Harry had managed to clean out all the years of neglect on the plots and were tending to the decent vegetation that was still there. They had done everything the Muggle way as this was a cemetery where wizards lay next to Muggles. Draco was always amazed that only the graveyard could equalize people regardless of magical abilities, economical, sexual, social, or other ‘living’ status. Here everyone was the same.
They were taking a break now, eating some of the food that they had brought with them. The silence between them was comfortable and welcomed. Luna had come by earlier, as did Ron and Hermione, and they had discussed Luna’s latest maternal Healer’s visit. Everything was looking good, and the doctor anticipated a late March birth.
Thinking the same thing as Draco, Harry broke the silence.
“Well, Draco, it looks like we have a lot of work ahead of us, finishing up that nursery before the baby comes, but I think it’ll go smoother once we know the baby’s gender.
“Say, do you think we can do this again next year? Now that the family’s plot and gravestones have been cleaned up, it looks really nice, and I think my parents would be happy with it. It sure needed it.
“We could even make this a family tradition and bring the baby with us and introduce him or her to my parents. What do you think?”
Draco noticed that for the first time Harry was able to mention his family’s past without remorse and was able to talk about the baby again with eager anticipation. He knew some small part of Harry was getting past his own childhood grief.
The crisp, cold, November wind was blowing hope back into their lives, and with it a future worth looking forward to.