55Chapter 14: ASTTWT 3: One-Way Ticket to St Mungo's
And so the Tables Were Turned …, part three: One-Way Ticket to St Mungo's
When Draco woke up that morning, he had no idea that he later that day would witness his beloved Harry being hit with the death curse, and for a few naïve hours he thought that this was a quite good day. Sure, they still had not found James, and the boy certainly had not returned of his own accord, but Draco felt optimistic about this day. Something good was going to happen.
Although, Piper soon crushed that feeling by giving him some really bad news.
"Where's Harry?" Draco asked her as he looked through that afternoon's owl post. Hmm, a letter from Neville Longbottom … interesting …
He expected her to reply 'He's at school, remember?' or something of the sort, but instead he got a hasty, "He's gone to his old dorm at Hogwarts to collect James before Lord Pywercaseley finds him and makes him his own private slave much earlier than was originally intended."
Draco blinked at her for several seconds. Then, he said, "Huh?"
"He's gone to his old dorm at—"
"I know what you said! But what do you mean, 'to collect James before Lord Pywercaseley finds him?'"
"Somehow Pywercaseley found out that James was at Hogwarts and decided to strike once he's unprotected by you guys," Piper said, and stuffed her mouth with tomato salad.
All the strength drained out of Draco. His hands were shaking. "Py-Pywercaseley's after my son? And Harry went over there all by himself? Is he mad?!" He hurried to the fireplace.
Piper looked after him. "Hey, where're you going?"
"What do you think? I'm going after him, of course!"
Draco wondered why Harry always had that annoying and infuriating need to protect him all the time—was he not a man?! He could look after himself, and Harry knew that! Only two years ago he had killed sixty-seven Death Eaters in one swipe, for crying out loud! And Harry thought he was not focused enough to go after one man!
Oh, I'll kill the bastard when I find him! he thought furiously, and slammed a fist of Floo powder down into the fire. I'll bloody make him see that he's a fucking moron for making such decisions without me! Who does he think he is!?
Draco stormed up to Gryffindor Tower, shaking with anger and humiliation, and fortunately the portrait hole was already open—otherwise he might have been stuck there for an eternity trying to figure out the password. When he had run up the stairs to his and Harry's old room, he noticed that Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Sprout were standing just inside the doorway, looking at something with terror in their eyes.
Draco frowned and turned his head in the direction of their stares – and gasped.
Harry was by their old bed, protectively holding little James in his arms, and in front of him was Lord Pywercaseley, whom had raised his wand and was just uttering the death curse, the worst of the Unforgivable Curses. Draco felt as if time had stopped and everything was moving in slow motion, as if the air had turned into invisible syrup, and he screamed. Could not control himself. "Nooooo!"
It could not be true—it must not be true! He could not lose his Harry, not now, not like this, absolutely not like this … no … no … no!
He watched Harry fall backwards, but for a moment he appeared to be floating in mid-air, a surprised and terrified look in his lovely green eyes, before he slammed into the wall behind him and fell to the floor, all the time with a firm grip on James to prevent him from getting hurt in the fall. When it was all over, Pywercaseley barked out a demonic, deranged laugh. With confident steps, he walked up to the limp Potter with the intention of grabbing the boy—but then James hiccupped again and disappeared.
Pywercaseley's smile faded from his thin lips. "No! The boy!"
Draco felt slightly relieved over the fact that his son had got away from the Dark Lord, but then he remembered Harry.
He ran up to Harry, not giving a damn that he was also running directly into the Dark Lord's line of sight. He knelt beside his lover. "Harry? Oh, lord, Harry … no … you can't die on me, not like this, not now … I need you, goddammit! I need you …"
His voice broke, and he began to cry. Could not see Harry through all the tears, so he stubbornly blotted his eyes repeatedly until he had a clear vision again, because it was extremely important that he could see Harry now. If everything else broke down and was destroyed, he wanted to at least be able to see Harry. Just see him.
Someone was taking a gentle hold of his shoulders and forcing him to get up on his feet again, and he was too weak to break lose. "There now, Draco, there is nothing you can do for him. Just step over here with us, just step outside here …" He knew it was Snape's voice, but he still could not figure out what he was saying to him. Leave Harry? No, never. He would never leave Harry. They had made a promise to each other never to leave one another, and he intended to keep it even if it meant being killed by the same curse that had ultimately killed his Harry.
Lord Pywercaseley had obviously been taken aback by James's disappearance and been temporarily paralysed by indecision and uncertainty, but now he was regaining his wits and Draco immediately understood why Snape was intent on getting him away from there.
In the farthest corner of the room, Harry moaned and got up on his hands and knees, carefully shaking his head as if to clear it. At first Draco did not register exactly what was happening, but when he did, he tried to run back to his lover. Snape's grip was firm, and he could not break loose of it. But he could shout. "Harry! Harry, you're alive! Bloody Hell, you're alive! I love you!"
Harry got up on his feet with some effort. His scar was bleeding again. With fury in his eyes, he met the Dark Lord's gaze without the slightest trace of fear. "I've really tried to see you as the Percy Weasley I once knew, and I've really tried to tell myself that you're just doing this because you're confused or whatever, but now I reeeaaally bloody hate you! First you try to kill me, and then you try to steal my son in front of my boyfriend! Old friendship counts for nothing anymore—I will fight you like I fought Voldemort, and I will bloody Hell kill you as soon as I get the chance, mark my words!" he hissed at the dark-clad figure.
Pywercaseley took a few shaking steps backwards. "You … you didn't die … you were supposed to die … why didn't you die?" he stuttered nervously.
"Because I'm protected by the greatest power there is—love," Harry said with gritted teeth. "Nothing can kill love, not even your lame Avada Kedavra curse. Now get the bloody Hell away from me before I choke you with my bare hands!"
Fortunately, the Dark Lord listened to his order and left through the hole he had made earlier.
Hogwarts was once again a safe place.
But for how long?
When they came home, they found James sitting in his own bed with a big smile on his little cute baby face, and neither of them could bring himself to reproach him for vanishing like that and exposing them all to great danger. He was just a toddler, and he was not aware of his own actions yet.
"Fafa," he said, and put his right index finger in his mouth.
Harry stroked his hair. "Yeah, we're here," he said lovingly. Draco and he stayed in there for fifteen minutes or so, until James fell asleep. Then they went into their own bedroom and shut the door behind them. Harry sat down on the edge of the bed and covered his face in his hands. It had been a long day.
"How are you feeling?" Draco asked worriedly.
"I'm fine. Just fine."
"You're … you're not dead, are you?"
Harry looked up at him. "Wha'? No, I'm not dead. Do I look dead to you?"
Draco squirmed. "No, but it's just that … you've been hit with the death curse thrice now, and … yet you lived. Every time. You always live, Harry. Wait, let me help you with that." He conjured up a few serviettes, a bowl of hot water, and a Band-Aid. He carefully scrubbed the surface of Harry's scar with soft, tender strokes. "Wow! You have another flash of lightning now."
"What?" Harry got up and moved to the mirror to have a look. Draco was right. Another small flash of lightning had gone out from the original one. He could not help but laugh. "If this continues, I'll have a spider web on my forehead within a year," he said with amusement.
"Don't joke about that," Draco pleaded, "it's not funny. I almost lost you today. Again, Harry. Why didn't you just tell me where you were going? We could have fought him off together. You always patronise me, and I don't like it."
He turned to his lover. "I'm sorry, Dracums. I just didn't want you to come to any harm."
"But you willingly go out risking your life and almost making me a widower?"
"A widower? You can't be widowed unless you're married, Draco."
"Same shit. Almost feels as if I'm married to you, 'cos you're sure as condescending and overly protective as a legal spouse," Draco muttered sourly.
Harry laughed and went over to him. "Don't be silly." He hushed Draco with a kiss. "You don't really want to be married, do you?" Draco leaned in for the kiss and clasped Harry's shoulders. He swiftly breathed a low 'no.' Harry smiled teasingly. "I always knew you weren't the type to get married."
"Shut up and kiss me."
Harry willingly obeyed and literally stuck his tongue down Draco's throat. The blonde pressed his lips so hard against Harry's it hurt, but he did not care. They both seemed to be overcome by desperate desire, still as spontaneous as it had been at the beginning of their relationship. In spite of their having been a couple for almost five years, they still made love on a regular basis; never less than twice a day (with a few exceptions during Draco's pregnancy when he 'didn't feel like it').
As usual, Draco was the one most desperate to get it on, and he pulled Harry down on top of the bed while showering him with kisses, careful to place himself beneath him, though. In spite of Draco disliking to be called the girl in the relationship, he did not hide the fact that he liked it better with Harry on top, and since Harry liked it better on top he never objected. He knew Draco too well to object to anything. Therefore he let himself be swept away on an ocean of emotions as Draco swiftly unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, instantly putting his hand inside them and making Harry gasp from the touch.
He bent his head low and began to trace Draco's neckline with kisses and fleeting licks, but the blonde made him stop. "No," he breathed, "come inside me now, quick, now. I need you now, Harry."
Harry nodded somewhat absent-mindedly and shifted his weight slightly. Gently, he pulled the blonde's trousers and boxers down and then started to remove his own. "No, no, no," Draco protested, "don't mind your trousers, baby, don't mind them, they won't hurt me, hurry!" So Harry hurried to enter his lover, joining them by the hips, and they moved in perfect synchrony. Harry's thrusts rocked Draco's body, eliciting small, guttural animal noises from him, and they excited Harry further, making him moving faster and faster until he felt the familiar tingling rising from his loins.
But he did not want it to end, not so soon, he wanted their wonderful union to last forever, so he held out as much as he could, aware of Draco's fluttering eyelashes and the tremors passing through them both. He would not be able to hold it off much longer now … he was shaking with impending orgasm.
Draco began to cry out his pleasure, and that was the end of Harry. He released himself into the blonde's warm body, all power draining from him and leaving nothing but a limp mass of exhausted flesh in its wake. Panting, he collapsed onto Draco, who still seemed to be far off in pleasure land. Harry had to stroke him for a while to make him come down from there.
He kissed Harry's black, roughed-up hair. "How could I score someone as beautiful and perfect as you? I don't deserve you."
"In that case, I don't deserve you, either," Harry pointed out. He liked lying on Draco's stomach like that, his ear against the blonde's rising and falling chest, because he could hear Draco's heartbeats pounding in there, and after a while he could not tell them from his own. He liked the illusion of them being one entity with one heart, one brain, one soul. He lovingly caressed his lover's side.
It was a cold night, even inside the Manor, so they reluctantly slept in their pyjamas. The following morning, Harry woke up in Draco's arms, and with a growing smile on his face, he looked up at the sleeping blonde. His long fringe was almost covering his closed eyes, and he looked incredibly sexy. That long, blond hair always made him look so stylish, so fresh. Harry remembered the haircut Draco had had when they first fell in love; short, straight, smooth. But now it almost curled at the edges. Shoulder length suited him so much better, even though that old haircut had been nice too …
Draco's nose twitched, and then his eyes opened. Harry looked up into that sleepy silver-grey, and murmured, "Good morning, baby."
Draco returned his smile. "Mornin'." He yawned and scratched his chin. Harry always marvelled over the smoothness of his skin, because the blonde never needed to shave; he always had baby smooth skin and had never developed a growth of beard. Harry, on the other hand, had fresh bristles. "You awake long?"
"Couldn't tell," Harry said, mesmerised by the blonde's grey eyes. "I could stare at you for several hours and it would still feel like five seconds."
Draco smiled and pulled Harry tighter into his embrace. "You're always so sweet …"
Harry turned to lie on his back beside Draco. "You know, I've been thinking …"
Draco lifted himself off the pillow and supported himself on his left elbow. "Yeah? About what?"
Harry met his lover's eyes anew. "I thought that maybe we could go away for a week or two, just you and me, maybe to some tropical place," he said dreamily. "Eat some good exotic food, get some sun, bathe in the ocean … just relax and have a good time. So much has happened lately, and we've been so stressed out … I think we could use some relaxation."
The blonde seemed surprised by this. "Go away? On holiday? Not that I don't want to, but what about your Auror studies, Harry? You can't just take days off like that."
"Oh, I was gonna quit that anyways."
"You were?"
"Yeah. It doesn't feel right. It's not what I want."
Draco traced Harry's stomach with one finger. "Then you shouldn't do it."
Harry grabbed Draco by the shoulders and pulled him up onto his stomach so they were face to face. The blonde got a mischievous smile on his face. "You in the mood to play, Harry?"
Harry laughed and pulled Draco's face closer to his. They shared a lovely, tender, tentative kiss. Harry would have wanted it to last longer, but Draco abruptly pulled away from him. Knitting his brows, he looked up at his lover. Draco had a weird, screwed-up expression on his face, and he looked almost as if he was trying to hold something back. "Whassamatter?" he asked suspiciously.
"Nothing," Draco said quickly, but his eyes were terrified, and his skin had turned paler than pale. A greyish pale.
Harry lifted his head slightly off the pillow. "You sure? You don't look as if it's nothing, you—" He was not rewarded enough time to finish his sentence, because in the next moment, a gurgling, wet sound escaped Draco—and then he threw up all over Harry.
Harry instantly pushed Draco off him and shot out of the bed. "What the Hell are you doing, you bastard!?" he hollered, desperately trying to brush the vomit off his face and pyjama shirt. "That is totally disgusting, Draco! Goddammit!" He rushed off to the bathroom.
Draco ran after him. "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry!" His last word was distorted by the bubbling laughter that sprang up from the pit of his stomach. He laughed so hard he had to bend over double not to collapse into a pile of jittery limbs. "I'm sorry!" he hissed between bursts of laughter as Harry ran into the bathroom. "I'm sorry!"
Harry turned in the doorway, furious with the blonde. "It's not funny!" Then he demonstratively slammed the door shut behind him and turned on the water in the bathtub. He scrubbed the worst of the sick off with hot water and soap from the washbasin and shrugged out of his soiled clothes. Angrily muttering to himself, he stepped into the bathtub and added as much soap and bubbles that would fit in there.
After only a minute or two, there was a knock on the door. "Harry? Are you still mad at me?"
"You bet your pink little arse I am!" he yelled back at him.
"It's not pink, and I'm sorry. How many times do you want me to tell you? A hundred? A thousand? Because I'll do it, you know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. See, I'm already up to seven, do you wish me to continue? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to vomit in your face, it just came over me—I couldn't stop it. Will you forgive me?"
Harry muttered for a while before answering. "Maybe if you leave me alone so I can clean up!"
There was an oppressive silence. "I'm sorry." Draco's footsteps faded away.
That last apology had not only sounded sincere, but also hurt. Harry felt bad for yelling at Draco like that; he could not help that he had been sick. He decided to present an apology of his own when he got out of the tub.
He met up with Draco down at breakfast in the first floor dining hall. Piper was already sitting at the table, too, so Harry felt a bit uneasy.
Would he have to apologise in front of her now?
Draco said nothing when he took a seat opposite him, but kept chewing on his toast.
"Look," Harry began, squirming in his seat, and instantly noticed that Draco stiffened, "I didn't mean for it to come out like that. I'm not denying that I got angry, but I shouldn't have yelled at you. You couldn't help it. And, well, I guess you couldn't help laughing, either, because it was actually rather funny, come to think of it … I'm sorry."
Draco met his gaze. "Apology accepted," he said with a faint smile.
Harry nodded and began to smear some apricot marmalade on a piece of toast.
Piper was watching them warily. "What were you up to earlier? One could hear you screaming from a mile away."
They were silent for a few seconds. Then Draco sighed. "I felt a little queasy this morning, and … I kind of puked in Harry's face …"
Harry blushed at the memory.
Piper blinked twice. Then she chuckled. "I see that you've developed the symptoms rather early this time, haven't you? What could it be, a week now?"
Draco frowned. "What symptoms?" he queried warily.
His sister shrugged as if it was no biggie. "Oh, I just put some Priberty Potion in your tea …"
Harry choked on his toast and coughed violently.
"You WHAT!?" Draco's face had turned an angry grey-red.
"You know, actually I have to tell you guys something … Remember when you had that fever and the Feverflutop wouldn't work? See, that was kind of my fault … turned out the Priberty Potion cancels out all antibiotics."
"You gave me potion when I was ill?!"
"Yeah, in the tea I brought you. And I've been pouring a little potion in all your drinks lately, even in the Coke bottles you hide in your room."
"You have more?!" Harry exclaimed with a disgusted look at Draco.
But Draco did not reply. He was shaking from head to toe with silent anger, and he just kept staring straight ahead into thin air. Then he slowly rose from his chair and started to walk out of the room. Harry and Piper looked after him.
"I'm going to St. Mungo's before any of this has gone too far," he said with gritted teeth. "I'm terminating this before I get too emotionally attached."
Piper gasped in terror. "But you can't do that! This is an innocent child we're talking about!"
"It hasn't had time to develop into a child yet."
"Dracums, are you sure about this?" Harry asked cautiously. "I mean, don't you even want to think it—"
"I've already though it through—and this is not what I want. All I wanted was to be alone with you, but I already have to share you with another human being. I don't want to share you with yet another child. I'm taking the Knight Bus, and don't try to stop me."
He went out of the front door and slammed it shut behind him.
Harry and Piper stared after him in shock.
Just a moment later, the door was opened anew and Draco stared in at them with an offended look in his eyes. "Harry, why aren't you coming?" he whined.
Harry was taken aback. "But I thought you said you didn't want to be stopped, so I thought—"
"That was reverse psychology, you dimwit! Now get your arse out here! You don't expect me to go alone, do you? This is your spawn as much as mine!" He slammed the door shut again.
Harry looked at Piper, whom simply shrugged.
He hurried after Draco and found him impatiently shifting his feet just outside the front door. He looked cold, so Harry conjured up a jacket for him. The blonde said nothing, merely walked a few hundred feet down the long driveway, stood by the shoulder of the road, and put his wand out. A fraction of a second later, the Knight Bus appeared out of thin air, stopping right beside them on shrieking brakes.
The doors flew open with a Bang! and a conductor jumped out. Harry recognised him immediately; it was the same conductor that had greeted him the night he ran away from the Dursleys, but seeing as he had grown older, he no longer had pimples all over his face. Clearing his throat, the conductor began to chant his old litany: "Hello, my name is Stan Shunpike and I will be your conductor for this evening. If you—"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, shove it or I'll hit you black and blue!" Draco hissed, and stepped on board with Harry in close tow. "St. Mungo's Hospital, please, and make it bloody quick!"
Harry apologised to Stan and took a seat next to the sulking blonde.
As usual, they were in for a bumpy ride on the roads of England and Wales, and when they finally stopped outside the display window with the naked dummies, Draco was green in the face. He desperately inhaled the smoggy—but, to him, comparatively fresh—air when they got off the bus. "Remind me never to take the bloody bus while I'm pregnant again," he said weakly.
But as soon as they got inside the hospital, he returned to his usual self—maybe even more so. He stalked straight up to the information desk and forced his way by the people in queue. "You there!" he said to the Healer behind the information desk with genuine hostility and cold authority. "Where's the maternity ward?"
People behind him were angrily shouting at him to get in queue, but he ignored them all. The Healer in front of him looked stricken. "Surely, sir, you would have no business there …," she began, but Draco interrupted her with a fierce snarl.
"How dare you question me? Do you know who I am!?"
She immediately began to fidget. "I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy, it will not happen again. It's on the third floor of the left wing."
"Thank you very much for nothing," Draco muttered condescendingly, and turned on his heels.
Harry had to run to keep up with his lover. And when they found the maternity ward, the circus started. Draco grabbed the first midwife he found and started giving out orders. "You! I want an abortion, and I want it now!" Everyone in the full waiting room—all of them women—turned to stare at Draco.
The midwife he had grabbed giggled nervously. "Abortion? Young man, this is no place to be joking around—"
"I am not bloody joking!" Draco bellowed furiously. "My sister gave me some sort of portion that made me pregnant and I want it terminated! Are you stupid enough to question me like that wench downstairs did when I just asked her for directions? I am Draco Malfoy, and I demand that you give me an abortion now!"
Harry was shocked to see the blonde so aggressive. Shivers travelled down his spine. It was as if he was reliving the month during which Draco had lost his memory and turned into his old vicious self as the result of a curse gone wrong. This was not the Draco Malfoy that he knew and loved; this was Lucius Malfoy's heir. And he was taking advantage of his name to get what he wanted. That was wrong, utterly wrong.
"Dracums, calm down," Harry pleaded with him, "nothing will be solved by you shouting like that. People are just going to think you're mad."
"Oh, yeah? Don't you think they already do, Harry? I'm pregnant, for crying out loud! Isn't that the biggest humiliation a man can live through?"
"I wouldn't know, 'cos I've never been pregnant," Harry teased lovingly.
The Healer-midwife turned her attention to Harry, probably because he was friendlier. "And who are you, sir? Men aren't allowed in here, so …"
Harry hesitated only a moment before replying: "I'm the father. A father. One of them—us."
Once again, the entire ward grew silent. Then somebody recognised him. "Look! It's Harry Potter!"
"Harry Potter has a boyfriend?" someone else said, and the gossip was on.
This will probably be in the Prophet tomorrow, Harry thought gloomily.
Draco impatiently shifted his feet. "Well? Are you going to give me that abortion or not?" he asked, but much calmer and nicer this time. It did him good to have Harry at his side.
The midwife gaped like a fish at them both for a few moments, but then she swallowed hard and nodded. She made an exception just that once and let Harry come with them to support Draco, most likely because she wanted to keep him as calm as possible. A hospital was no place to make a racket, and if anyone could make a racket it was Draco!
Harry felt uncomfortable when he sat down in a chair in the corner of the room that the Healer escorted them to. He watched as she took out disposable hospital clothes from a tall cabinet beside him and gave them to Draco, asking him to change into them. Draco's face swelled with fury anew. "Are you planning to watch?!" he hollered.
"Sorry," both Harry and the Healer said, turning their backs to him.
"Not you, Harry," Draco said, and he actually laughed. "You see me naked all the time, baby."
The Healer made a squeaky noise at that comment.
The blonde swiftly changed into the disposable hospital clothes and sat on the examination bed in silence while the midwife ran a few tests on him. Before anyone could perform an abortion on him they needed to know that he actually was pregnant.
Draco did not object to that line of thinking. He probably understood her scepticism towards a supposedly pregnant boy. When she left the room to get the sample checked, he smiled at Harry and said, "She should see James. She'd probably have a heart attack if she knew I've already given birth to a healthy baby boy."
They laughed.
A mere minute later, the Healer returned with the results, and judging by her pale grey expression the test had come out positive.
Draco made a wry face.
"Seems like you've been telling the truth, Mr. Malfoy. These tests indicate that you indeed are pregnant." She looked up from her papers. "This is incredible. How could this be possible?"
The blonde sighed. "I told you—my sister gave me a potion. Priberty Potion, I think she calls it. Said she was contracted to create such a potion for you lot, but for women of course. Unfortunately, she made a few changes that would enable men to get pregnant as well, and she was so kind as to try it on me two years ago. And now she's bloody done it again!"
The Healer jerked audibly. "Again? You mean she's done this before?"
"Yes! I just told you, two years ago she did."
"And did you take care of it yourself two years ago?"
Harry was warmed to see a smile form on Draco's lips, even though it was a sad one. "I was supposed to take a counter potion, but I couldn't. I just couldn't do it. I had been pregnant for three weeks without knowing it then, and it was obviously too long … No, I kept the baby. We kept the baby. Harry and I have the most wonderful little boy, and I don't regret a thing. But this time is different. We're being chased down by the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters because of who we are, and it's already dangerous for our family. Harry was almost killed last night. I don't want to bring another baby into this world … not when it's constantly going to be in danger."
The Healer seemed to have missed the last half of the recount. "You have a son? A healthy son? Born out of you, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked sceptically.
Draco looked at her as if she was crazy. "Of course we have! Are you implying that we're in some way not fit to father children?!"
"Oh, no, no! That's not what I meant at all! I beg your pardon, Mr. Malfoy."
"I sure hope you do," Draco hissed. "Now could we please get on with this? I need to get back home to my son, and Harry's supposed to be at school."
"No, I'm not," Harry protested.
"Yes, you are, Harry. You haven't told them you want to quit yet, so technically you're still a student."
"Guess you're right, Dracums," Harry said with a deep sigh.
The Healer brought forth a steaming potion and asked Draco to sit back against the pillow on the bed. Then she forced the jug into his stiff hands. "Drink this and it'll be over in a minute."
He blinked up at her. "Oh, yeah? How? What will happen?"
"You might get a little sick, Mr. Malfoy."
"I'm already sick, how will I tell this sick from that sick?"
Now the Healer blinked in confusion. "Well … it will feel like a strange sick, and you will feel as if something is running out of your stomach, but nothing will of course, it's just a feeling."
"Nothing?" Draco echoed. He looked down at the jug in his hands.
Harry noticed that the blonde's hands were shaking, and he saw the indecision in his grey eyes. He already knew what would happen, even when his lover lifted his head and locked gazes with him.
Draco sighed. "I can't do it with you watching," he said, and lowered his hands into his lap.
Harry frowned. "What d'you mean?"
"I can't do it when you're looking at me like that, as if I'm some sort of … murderer."
Harry was taken aback. "Wha … I'm not thinking that!"
Draco sighed again. "Okay, it's all me then. I'm the one who feels like a murderer. Bloody blimey flip, I can't do it. I can't do it. I guess James is going to have a little brother or sister, eh?"
Harry went over to him and put his arms around him in a reassuring embrace. "It's all right, Dracums, it doesn't matter. You know I'd love to have another baby with you. I love you."
Draco clung to him like a small child. "Thank you, Harry. I love you, too."
So instead of terminating the pregnancy, they rescheduled—to come back for an ultrasound. It felt weird to do it like everyone else this time, instead of keeping it within their small family like they had done with James. When they were about to leave, the Healer that had assisted them called after them: "So, I'll see you in two months, then?"
Draco blushed. He waved at her without turning around. "Yeah, sure, see you in two months, e he." Then he covered his face with his left hand.
Harry knew why she had called after them like that; because she wanted everyone else to hear, and most likely someone in particular who either happened to be there by coincidence or someone who had been called for whilst they had been in the examination room. A reporter from the Prophet. The story would be all over the magic community by tomorrow. Every single witch and wizard would know that Harry Potter was expecting a child with a boy, and not just any boy, but Draco Malfoy. They would never have a private life again, because everyone would want to know everything there was to know about The Boy Who Lived Thrice and The Boy Who Gave Birth.
Piper was very pleased to hear that Draco had decided not to go through with the abortion, but she was also offended that they had chosen St. Mungo's Healers to be their midwifes instead of her. She got over herself rather quickly, though.
Draco literally skipped into their bedroom one morning about a month into the pregnancy, his face aglow with happiness and excitement, and Harry had to laugh at him. The blonde pulled up his jumper and stood posing before Harry. "Look!" he said brightly. "It's starting to show!" He indicated his flat belly.
"I can't see it," Harry said.
Draco sighed with mock irritation and went over to him. He put Harry's right hand on his belly. "Can you feel the difference, then? You always tell me how you know my body's every pore—now prove it to me."
And Harry gently, lovingly stroked the blonde's tummy. "Yeah, I feel it," he said, smiling. "I feel it. Our son."
Draco frowned in confusion. "How can you be so sure it's a son?" he asked.
"Because I've seen him."
The room was quiet for a long while.
"Excuse me? You've seen him? When? Where?"
"That night when Tom locked me in the Manor," Harry told him. "He came to me, to tell me what was happening out there. I knew he was our son the minute I saw him, because he had your facial features, your hair, your grace … and my eyes. He still comes here sometimes, but never when you're around. Don't know why. Maybe he's not allowed to show himself to you yet."
The confusion on Draco's face was evident. "What are you talking about? Someone looking like me, but with your eyes, regularly comes to see you? Is that it?"
"He's our son, Draco. And we have the proof right here." He patted the blonde's stomach. "Come to think of it, you have seen him, haven't you?"
"I have? When?"
"He was the one who saved me when Tom tried to kill me the first time. You defended Tom from him."
"That was … our son?"
"Must have been. There is no other explanation. But he won't answer my questions."
"But you can't be sure about that, can you? Maybe he's just another Death Eater out to kill you. Maybe he wishes to kill us both. That Tom was the first to come from the future might just be a coincidence."
Harry firmly shook his head. "No. I know what I felt when I saw him, and that can't be imaginary. He's our son, and he's very much alive in you right now. I want to name him Joseph."
"Joseph? Why Joseph?"
"That was my grandfather's name. Joseph Potter. It is also one of my middle names. Harry James Joseph Potter."
"Really? You never told me. All right, then … maybe I should give him a name, too? How about Alastair?"
Harry laughed. "Alastair? What kind of a name is that?"
"It's my middle name!" Draco roared. "And don't you laugh at me!"
But he did. "Draco Alastair Malfoy? That is so ridiculous …"
"Shut up! It's Draco Alastair Mortus Malfoy."
"MORTUS!" Harry was dying from laughter.
"Oh, you little …!"
There was a shriek from downstairs. They exchanged a look, and then they ran down the stairs. Piper was standing in the parlour with the Daily Prophet in her hands, shaking like a leaf.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked anxiously.
She met their gazes with dark eyes. "The Death Eaters have attacked Hogwarts," she whispered.
"What?" Harry could not believe his ears.
Piper grabbed both their hands. "We need to go there now and help Dumblydonkey!" she said.
And the next moment they had all Apparated from the Malfoy Manor to their old school. They appeared in the grounds, well hidden by the shrubbery at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Anxiously, they peered up at the castle.
From behind them, someone was suddenly cursing out a litany of strange sounds that were obviously meant to form words, but to Harry and Draco they meant nothing. Piper, however, stiffened and got an eerie look in her eyes. Slowly, she turned around.
So did they.
A short man with the darkest black hair was standing some ten feet into the Forest, furiously stamping his feet into the dirt. Harry and Draco's mouths fell open at the sight.
Piper rose from her hideout and took a step towards the stranger.
Draco grabbed at her. "Piper, stay down!" he hissed.
But Piper kept on walking, and to their utter surprise she replied the strange man. "Dono-hito desu ka?"
Dono-hito desu ka? = Who are you?