Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I stick with real things
Usually facts and figures
When information's in its place
I minimize the guessing game
Guess what? (What?)
I don't like guessing games
Or when I feel things
Before I know the feelings
How am I supposed to operate
If I'm just tossed around by fate?

- The Waitress, When He Sees Me

May

After the war ended, Draco found himself floating through time and space. He felt directionless; ashamed of his past actions, scared of the consequences awaiting him in the trial and unsure how to atone but desperate to try, he fell into a void he was unsure how to fill.

His father was put on house arrest until their trials at the end of July. His mother insisted they joined him, even though none of them could stand the memories the Manor brought with it anymore.

Draco didn’t sleep well, and if he did fall into a restless slumber, they were laced with nightmares. He also thought way too much of Potter. Potter, who hadn’t answered his letter of apology and clearly wanted nothing to do with him. Still, Draco’s body couldn’t help clinging to images of Potter to provide some moments of sanity: Potter, saving him from a sea of fire and allowing Draco to wake up instead of drowning in the memories. Potter, taking Draco with him when he fled the Manor instead of leaving him behind to be tortured. Potter, reaching out his hand and promising a better future; that everything would be alright. 

Because when Potter said it, Draco instinctively believed it, as much as he hated himself for it.

Draco tried to sneak out as much as he could, trying to escape his oppressive thoughts and the darkness that crept into him through every creak of the Manor. He explored Muggle London, trying to forget. He went to gay clubs - another part of himself he’d never allowed to fully develop finally stretching out and gasping for air. He’d never dared search out any boys at Hogwarts; Blaise had come to him, and he’d known he’d be discreet. 

Now, in the anonymity of dark Muggle clubs and pubs, he felt secure enough to go on a hunt, to figure out what he liked. It dulled the darkness long enough with pleasure.

It was on such a night that Draco saw Potter again for the first time since the Battle of Hogwarts. He was just there, at a gay bar in Chelsea, nursing a drink and staring into space. 

Draco just looked at him for a few long minutes, routed to the spot. For a moment, he thought he’d fallen into one of his dreams, but no, Potter was truly there, in the flesh. He’d obviously already had a bit to drink, just as Draco had; Draco could see him leaning against the bar for support, slumping slightly.

Draco’s own alcohol level was obviously just high enough because he found himself moving towards Potter before he knew it. Potter’s eyes found him only when Draco was almost right in front of him, and when they did, they widened in surprise.

“Malfoy,” he said.

“Potter,” he nodded, coming to a stop right in front of him, right in Potter’s personal space. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yeah… yeah, no, neither did I,” Potter blinked.

Draco smiled and reached out for Potter’s almost empty drink, taking it out of his hand and putting it down on the bar before reaching for his arm. “Well,” he said. “If you’re here, you can dance with me.”

“I don’t dance,” Potter said in what seemed like a trance.

“Look at this place, Potter,” Draco rolled his eyes, pulling him along with him. To his surprise, Potter came. “No one will care if you look like an idiot while doing it.”

“Nice,” Potter huffed, but his breath hitched when Draco reached for his hip, pulling them flush against each other. 

“We have different priorities here, don’t we,” Draco whispered, his voice husky, before starting to move against Potter in a sensual rhythm.

Potter looked at Draco like he wasn’t sure what had got into him. Honestly, Draco wasn’t quite sure either. Part of it was the alcohol. Part of it was that he still wasn’t completely sure any of this was real. But he wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip away; Potter would have to reject him outright, and if he did, Draco could blame it on being smashed.

To his surprise, though, Potter’s eyes darkened and he soon moved with Draco, grinding his hips into him purposefully. And then, he leaned in to catch Draco’s lips, and Draco knew that Potter was even more drunk than he was.

Draco couldn’t find it in himself to care, though. Potter moving against him felt heavenly and Potter’s mouth against him was a revelation.

A part of Draco knew, then and there, that he had wanted this for a long time.

They ended up in the dingy bathroom of the place, as Draco’s nights tended to. What was different this time, though, was that Draco let Harry fuck him against the wall of the toilet stall. 

Draco did not usually go further than hand- or blowjobs. With Potter, though, he threw all his inhibitions out of the window. 

He also forgot his protection charms.

It was difficult to remember anything, though, with Harry Potter inside of him and pressed up against his back and whispering his name into his ear. “Draco,” not “Malfoy.”

When it was over, Harry sagged against him, clearly ready to go to sleep right in the club's horrible bathroom, so Draco tickled his address out of him and put him into a Muggle taxi. 

When Draco woke the next day, he could hardly believe the night hadn’t been a very lucid dream. It seemed unimaginable that Potter had really wanted him, however intoxicated he had been.

For a couple of days, Draco secretly waited for Potter to contact him, though he knew it was improbable that he would. For Potter, it had likely been a drunk mistake.

For Draco, the whole ordeal had been life-changing, even if he didn’t yet know how much.

July

The more their trials approached, the worse Draco felt. He slept less, but when he was awake, he was almost lethargic, too exhausted to even leave his room, much less the Manor. He was highly emotional, which his mother, with all her soft empathy, put down to the stress. And eventually, his stomach started rebelling and refusing food.

That was when his mother put her foot down and sent him to St Mungo’s for a check-up.

Draco had expected to be waved off with some Dreamless Sleep and some potions to calm his stomach. What he did not expect was a kind-looking Healer from the obstetrics department. 

“Mr Malfoy,” she smiled at him. “Congratulations, you are six weeks pregnant.”

Draco stared at her. “I - what?”  he asked, sure he had misheard.

“I see this is a surprise,” the Healer - Draco glanced at her nameplate and saw that her name was Goldstein. He wanted to laugh hysterically. “Are there any other male pregnancies in your family?”

Draco stared at her, incredulous. As if a Malfoy heir would have ever been allowed into a homosexual partnership that allowed him to end up pregnant. 

Oh, Merlin. His father was going to murder him. If Draco didn’t end up in Azkaban, his father would make sure he never saw the light of day again.

“Mr Malfoy?” Healer Goldstein asked, sounding worried now. “Are you quite alright? You are quite pale.”

Draco cleared his throat. “No male pregnancies in my family,” he shook his head. 

“Well, your blood test showed you as quite fertile,” Healer Goldstein informed him.

Well, that would have been nice to know from the start, Draco thought in a daze.

“I’d like to have a chat about your options, if you are agreeable,” Healer Goldstein continued. “If you wish to proceed with this pregnancy, St Mungo’s offers all kinds of support for male pregnancies, from counselling regarding the risks to regular medical checkups to preparation for the birth. If you wish to have an abortion, we offer that, too, of course.”

She handed Draco a bunch of flyers. Draco stared at the one detailing the abortion consultation with a feeling of abstract horror.

“How far along did you say I am?” Draco asked weakly. 

“Six weeks,” she smiled at him. “Our spells suggest the conception happened on the night of the 26th of May.”

Potter, Draco thought with a tightness in his chest. Not that there could have been any doubt; after all, he’d only had penetrative sex with Harry Potter, and he’d stopped going to Muggle clubs completely after their night together. The timeline, though, eradicated all doubt. 

Draco stared at the flyer again and knew he was going to throw up. It effectively ended his consultation with Healer Goldstein, at least.

He kept the news of his pregnancy to himself. He told his mother it had just been the stress and he had been given potions to mute the symptoms. Which wasn’t exactly a lie: Healer Goldstein had given him a potion for his morning sickness, though it didn’t really help much. Draco tried to keep his condition from his parents as much as possible, pretending he was doing better.

In reality, his mind was spiralling. He was going on trial in a week and he was pregnant with Harry Potter’s baby. How was any of this going to work? What if he had to go to Azkaban? Was he going to have it in Azkaban? Raise it in prison? Would Potter take it in? He could, of course, abort the pregnancy but the thought of doing that without even telling Potter turned his stomach painfully.

He knew, technically, that it was his body and his choice. Blaise and Pansy had had a short thing in seventh year and Pansy had ended up pregnant. She had aborted the pregnancy without a second thought and never informed Blaise. 

“It’s none of his business,” she had shrugged. “If I had given birth, he’d have had a right to know, but I’m not ready to be a mother yet, especially not in the middle of this fucking war. He has no say in that.”

And Draco had agreed with her, of course, he had. But now that it was him, he suddenly wanted Potter to know. But what was he supposed to do - go up to him before the trial and say: Hey, Potter, I’m having your baby, please don’t let them lock me away? Yeah, that would go over splendidly.

Before Draco knew it, the day of his trial had arrived, though. And it turned out that he was very, very lucky. Potter spoke on his behalf, even without being asked to, and it moved the Wizengamot to let him go free. The only terms were that he stayed out of trouble for five years and went back to Hogwarts to complete his NEWTs. 

Which, Draco thought, a bit hysterical, would be fun with a baby.

As soon as he was dismissed, he raced to catch up with Potter. Potter was almost at the floos when he caught him. 

“Potter!” he called.

Wary, Potter turned around, frowning at him. “Malfoy,” he nodded.

“I - thanks,” Draco said. “For speaking for me. It means a lot.”

“I just said the truth,” Potter shrugged. “Please prove me right and don’t waste your chance.”

“I won’t,” Draco promised. Potter nodded and was already turning around again when Draco said: “Wait! I wanted to talk to you!”

“About what?” Potter said, looking deeply sceptical. “If this is another apology, I don’t want to hear it, Malfoy. I got your letter.”

Draco blinked. “No,” he said slowly. “It’s - um - it’s about that night in May. At the bar.”

Potter’s frown deepened. “What?” he asked.

“You know,” Draco said, uncomfortable. “That bar in Chelsea. May 26th? We were both pretty drunk?”

Potter stared at him, his face blank. Then his eyes widened. “You were there? ” he asked, sounding alarmed.

“Ergh, yes,” Draco said slowly. “You don’t remember me?”

“I don’t remember anything from that night,” Potter shook his head. “I was completely wasted. Total blackout.”

Draco stared at him, wide-eyed.

“Listen, if you’re going to go to the Prophet with it,” Potter said, his shoulders tense now.

“What?” Draco breathed, uncomprehending.

“I know it would make a great story,” Potter rolled his eyes. “ ‘The Boy Who Lived Smashed at Gay Bar!’ But really, Malfoy, I thought we were past this. I thought you wanted to be better.”

“I wouldn’t go to the Prophet,” Draco shook his head, his voice tight.

Potter blinked. “Then why bring it up?” he frowned. “Were you worried I was going to say something? Because I won’t.”

Draco knew then and there that he couldn’t tell him. Why would Potter believe him? And anyway, it would be kinder not to. After all, Harry Potter didn’t need a baby from a Death Eater he had hated all his life. 

Draco nodded, stepping back. “Right,” he said. “Thanks.”

Potter was still frowning at him. “Was that all?” he asked.

“Yes,” Draco nodded. “Sorry for taking up your time.” And then, he turned around, forcing himself to keep a straight face and find his parents.

He told his mother about his pregnancy that evening when his father had gone into his study and Draco knew he wouldn’t come out for at least a couple of hours.

His mother, predictably, was shocked.

“But Draco,” she said. “How did you - who’s the father?”

Draco grimaced. “I don’t know,” he lied. “It was a one-night stand at a bar. I didn’t know him.”

Draco didn’t dare look at her. He didn’t want to see the disappointment in her eyes. 

“Well,” she said. “I think it’s best to make an appointment at St Mungo’s.”

Draco’s stomach clenched painfully. “You mean abortion?” he clarified.

“It’s the sensible thing to do, isn’t it?” she said softly, reaching out to gently touch his hair. “You have NEWTs to focus on. It’s in your stipulations. You can’t be distracted.”

Draco nodded, feeling bile rising in his throat. 

“I’ll make you an appointment,” she promised. 

Draco nodded. Then he locked himself in the bathroom and threw up. When he was done, he noticed that he was crying. 

They got an appointment two days after Draco’s father had been sentenced to five years in Azkaban. Draco just wanted to curl up into a ball and cry. He was losing his father and his baby in the same week; he felt like shit because he couldn’t sleep or eat because food made him sick and his back was cramping up, and why was that even a thing, he wasn’t even showing yet!

“It’s going to be fine, Draco,” his mother said in a soft voice as he sat next to her in the waiting room, scratching his nail bed until it was bloody. 

Draco didn’t answer. He didn’t feel like anything was going to be fine. 

Finally, his name was called. His mother got up with him, but the nurse asked her to wait outside.

Draco knew he was trembling as he followed the nurse down the familiar halls of St Mungo’s. To his utter horror, he ended up with Healer Goldstein again. 

“Mr Malfoy,” she smiled, her kind face betraying no judgement, which was somehow even worse. “Please sit down.”

Draco sat on the chair opposite of her, not meeting her eyes. He noticed, though, that her smile fell, giving away to concern. 

“Are you quite alright, Mr Malfoy?” she asked gently. “You look unwell. Do you need a glass of water?”

Draco didn’t trust himself to speak. He just shook his head. His nail caught at another wound on his nailbed, drawing blood. Healer Goldstein’s eyes followed his movements.

“If you’re nervous, we can talk about the procedure,” she offered.

“No,” Draco ground out. “Just do it, please.”

She stared at him. Draco held his breath. There was a long moment of silence. Then, she leaned towards him and asked, very gently: “Mr Malfoy… are you sure you’re here of your own accord? Did someone pressure you or do you think you’re forced to abort your child because of other circumstances?”

Draco gulped. To his horror, his eyes filled with tears. Healer Goldstein hesitated before reaching out to cover his hands, effectively stopping him from scratching his bloody wound even more. She drew his hands onto the table and pointed her wand at them, fixing his wounds with muttered spells. When she’d reached the last finger of his right hand, Draco burst out: “There is no father.” She looked at him, her face neutral. “I’m alone with the child,” he continued, his voice shaking. “My parents don’t approve - my father doesn’t even know because he’d go mental - and I have to go back to Hogwarts in September and finish my NEWTs or I’ll go to Azkaban. How would I do that with a baby?”

Healer Goldstein gave him a small smile. “I don’t have an answer to the first two problems, but I am good friends with Minerva McGonagall. We went to Hogwarts together. If I wrote to her that one of her students is pregnant and needed special support to get through the year, I know she’d move heaven and hell to make it possible for that student to attend school, no matter their past.”

Draco stared at her. “I - are you sure?” he asked, his voice brittle.

“Very sure,” she nodded. “And if you want to, we can call in your mother and talk to her together. I think she is outside?” Draco nodded numbly. She smiled. “You wouldn’t be the first person to raise a child alone, Mr Malfoy,” she said. “Sure, it won’t be easy, I won’t lie to you. But that doesn’t mean it’s not possible. So if you want to have the baby, I’ll encourage you to have it.”

“I want it,” Draco admitted, for the first time out loud. 

“Okay,” Healer Goldstein’s smile widened as she got to her feet. “Then let’s talk to your mother.”

Draco’s mother, when she was called into Healer Goldstein’s office, didn’t seem to quite know what the issue was, at first. “Draco, darling, is there an issue?” she asked, looking him over in genuine worry. “Are you alright?” 

Draco was incredibly grateful when Healer Goldstein took over for him, explaining that Draco had decided not to go through with the abortion and that she had offered to write to the Headmistress to facilitate his life at Hogwarts due to his pregnancy.

“But Draco,” his mother blinked, catching Draco’s eyes. “I thought you didn’t want the baby?”

“But I do,” Draco breathed, trying hard to keep a hold of his emotions, but finding it harder than it should. He was truly glad the war was over; Occlumency would be next to impossible with his hormones all over the place. “I know it will be hard, but I want it.”

Narcissa Malfoy looked at him for a long moment. Then, her face crumbled. “Okay,” she said, nodding. She turned to Healer Goldstein. “You will treat him?”

“I will,” she smiled. “He will be in the best hands, I promise.”

“I want to accompany him to every appointment,” she said. 

“If he is comfortable with that, I don’t see an issue.”

Narcissa nodded, reaching out to take Draco’s hand. 

“What about Father?” Draco couldn’t help himself but ask. 

“He’s in Azkaban,” Narcissa said stiffly. “He doesn’t need to know just yet.”

Draco nodded, blinking back tears.

September

“Mr Malfoy,” Minerva McGonagall smiled as Draco came stumbling through her fireplace. “Thank you for coming ahead of schedule to speak to me.”

“I prefer it that way, actually,” Draco admitted, carefully righting himself. “I’ve been dreading the stares on the Hogwarts Express.”

The Headmistress nodded. Draco's stomach wasn’t that obvious yet, but he was starting to show and he’d consequently switched his usually perfectly tailored clothes for more loosely sitting ones. He thought people would definitely give him funny looks for that, if not for his gained weight.

“Please sit,” she said, gesturing to the chair, and Draco did as instructed. McGonagall took the chair behind the large desk. It was strange, being back in the Headmaster’s office after everything with Dumbledore. He quickly found the portrait of their former Headmaster to McGonagall’s right, sending a brilliant smile to Draco. Draco tried not to recoil, but his stomach felt a bit queasy.

“How are you feeling?” the Headmistress asked, distracting him from Dumbledore. “Gwendolyn wrote that your last check-up was good?”

“The baby and I are healthy,” Draco confirmed. “Apart from the general male problem of heightened pregnancy symptoms, I am doing fine. My morning sickness stopped and I feel more energetic.”

It was true: Draco had finally gone back to feeling comfortable in his body, for the most part. His mother had smirked when he’d mentioned it and said it was the ‘pregnancy glow phase’ and to enjoy it while it lasted. 

“That’s good,” McGonagall nodded approvingly. “It would be nice if you could have a good start into the school year, though of course, you will always be excused if you need to miss classes due to your pregnancy. The staff has been informed and Madam Pomfrey is in close contact with Gwendolyn - or Healer Goldstein for you. She has stocked up on all the relevant potions and knows what symptoms to expect and how to reach your Healer in an emergency.”

“Thank you,” Draco said sincerely. “I really appreciate it.”

“We’re happy to do it,” McGonagall nodded. “We want you to succeed with your studies, after all.” She paused for a moment, catching his eyes. “I’d like to address the rooming situation,” she said slowly.

Draco frowned. “Okay,” he nodded.

“Since you taking your NEWTs was part of your stipulations to facilitate your integration into Wizarding society, we are hesitant to isolate you completely,” she admitted.

Draco tried not to grimace. He wouldn’t lie; he had hoped for a private room due to his condition.

“We can talk about giving you more privacy at a later stage in your pregnancy,” the Headmistress continued. “But for now, we think it wise for you to room with the others in your year.”

“I see,” Draco said.

“We have prepared a separate common room for all returning students from your year,” McGonagall explained. “For the sake of breaking up house cliques, we decided to assign double rooms and mix the houses. I have put you with Mr Potter.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “Headmistress - I don’t think that’s a good idea!” he protested.

“On the contrary, I think it’s an excellent idea,” McGonagall disagreed smoothly. “Harry Potter is much more reasonable than most people give him credit for, and he will be the one most open-minded to give you a second chance. And if you two manage to get along, it will set the tone for the rest of the year.” Draco stared back at her, feeling helpless. “I already informed Mr Potter of your condition, if that’s what has you worried,” she continued. “He agreed to support you in case you needed it. I think that’s a nice gesture. Don’t you?”

Draco bit his lip. Of course, McGonagall had no idea how much of a twisted, cruel joke it was that she had roomed him with the unwitting father of his baby. But Draco knew there was nothing he could say to change the arrangement without sounding like his old, pratty self, so he nodded. 

“Yes,” Draco breathed. “That’s very nice.”

Potter’s eyes found Draco’s across the Great Hall at the Welcoming Feast. They were curious and questioning. 

For a moment, Draco wondered if he had figured it out. If he had put two and two together and come to the right conclusion. But then, Potter broke away to speak to Ginny Weasley, and Draco was left staring at his back, heart racing, selfishly wishing he’d connect the pieces and save him, as he’d done that day in the Room of Requirement. 

When Potter arrived at their room, Draco was already there. It wasn’t that Draco had been faster than him - Draco was fucking slow these days - but when he’d arrived at their new common room Potter had been surrounded by people. 

No one had noticed Draco silently sneaking up to their dorms. 

“Hi,” Potter said now, looking at him from the doorway. “I didn’t see you get in.”

“You were busy,” Draco shrugged, sorting his clothes into his cupboard. These new double rooms were actually nice, he reflected: They had storage space and mirrors and a desk and a fireplace. 

Potter nodded absently, watching him from the door. After a moment, Draco sighed. 

“Potter, please come in,” he said. “And stop staring at me, it makes me nervous.”

“Right,” Potter blinked, stepping fully into the room and letting the door fall behind him. He sat down on his bed, looking at his shoes.

Draco suppressed another sigh. He knew this had been a mistake from McGonagall’s side. He turned to Potter.

“Listen,” he said. “If you can’t do this, we can go to McGonagall and ask for a room change now. I can even throw a fuss and ask for a private room if you want. It’s not like it would be out of character for me.”

“No,” Potter frowned, finally looking at him. “I don’t mind rooming with you.”

“Then why do you look like you swallowed your tongue?” Draco asked, exasperated. “Is there something you need to say?”

Potter bit his lip. Then, he said, with some determination: “Congrats on your pregnancy.”

Draco blinked, his heart racing. “Thanks,” he breathed.

“How far along are you?” Potter asked, glancing at his midsection.

“Fourteen weeks,” Draco said. When Potter frowned, clearly trying to do the math, he added: “Four months.”

“But… that’s May, right?” Potter said, his frown deepening. 

“Yes,” Draco said softly. “It happened in May.”

“Malfoy, who’s the father?” Potter asked. 

Draco took a slow, measured breath and sat down on his own bed, opposite Potter’s. “It was a one-night stand,” Draco said carefully. “I met him at a bar. We were both drunk.”

Potter’s eyes widened and for a moment, Draco thought he’d understood. Then, he said: “Shit, is that why you asked me about that night? Is that when it happened? Did you want to know if I’d seen you with him? If I knew him?”

Draco’s heart sank. He nodded. “Yeah,” he lied. “Yeah, I thought it was worth a shot.”

“Sorry,” Potter groaned. “Now I feel even worse for getting that smashed! I wished I could have helped.”

“It’s okay,” Draco shrugged. “It was a long shot.”

“So you have no idea how to find him?” Potter asked.

Draco shook his head, looking at his hands.

“I’m sorry,” Potter said, his voice full of sympathy. “That sucks.”

“It’s alright,” Draco shrugged. “I can do it on my own. And I have Mother to support me.”

“Well, I’m glad you’ve got her,” Potter nodded a new frown appearing on his face. “Wait, wasn’t that a Muggle bar…?”

“Yeah,” Draco rolled his eyes. “She doesn’t know that.”

Potter snorted, clearly amused. Not that it mattered, Draco thought. The father of his baby was a wizard, and one of the most powerful and famous there had ever been, even if he wasn’t a pureblood. His mother, though, would never know that bit, of course.

“Imagine your father’s face,” Potter muttered.

“My father doesn’t even know I’m pregnant,” Draco rolled his eyes. “He’d go mental. He’d probably find a way to break out of Azkaban just so that he could murder me.”

“I’m surprised you kept it,” Potter said, looking at him. “I thought you bought into this whole blood-purity shit, too?”

“My views have changed,” Draco shrugged. “A war sort of changes your perspective on things, don’t you think?”

Potter nodded, smiling. “I agree.”

Draco couldn’t remember when Potter had ever smiled at him, completely without malice. 

“Well,” Potter said, getting to his feet, at last, breaking the moment. He strolled across the room to open his trunk, taking things out at random and throwing them onto his bed. “If you need any help, ask me. Getting your NEWTs and having a baby at the same time can’t be easy, so if you need me to run to the hospital wing for you to snatch a potion or take notes for you when you’re feeling unwell, just say so.”

“I don’t need you to babysit me, Potter,” Draco frowned. “And since when do you take notes in class?”

To his surprise, Potter grinned at that. “Okay, I might just copy them from Hermione,” Potter allowed. “But you should give me an E for Effort.” 

“Maybe a P,” Draco allowed. He ducked when Potter threw some rolled-up socks at his head. “Anyway, Granger would never let you give me her notes.”

Potter pursed his lips. “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I think we’re all sort of tired of the hating game.”

Draco couldn’t help but hope that was true, because he surely was sick to the bones of it.

His first week at Hogwarts started out well, or as well as it could for one out of three returning Slytherins (apart from Blaise and Daphne, everyone had either fucked off to the continent to finish schooling or given up altogether) and the only pregnant student on top of that. 

News of his pregnancy soon spread around like wildfire, as the Hogwarts gossip mill was always active and never unimaginative. At one point, Draco heard that he was carrying the Dark Lord’s secret love child (and really, could no one at Hogwarts do math?). Another popular stream of thought seemed to be that it was Blaise’s child - which amused Blaise very much, and he was stimulating the gossip by loudly asking Draco each morning how the ‘fruit of his loins’ was doing today.

In general, though, it could have been much worse. People refrained from being too nasty to him, either because of his condition or because Potter had started publicly acknowledging him. 

The thing with Potter… Draco didn’t quite know how to handle that. Because Potter, as bizarre as it was, appeared to really care about Draco and his well-being. 

When Draco complained about his back hurting, he offered to carry his books to class for him. Draco had looked at him like he’d grown a second head and had refused, casting a weightlessness spell on the books, but he had offered.

He also kept reminding Draco of things he forgot. Draco had started to become more scatterbrained - Healer Goldstein had assured him that this was perfectly normal at this stage - and as soon as Potter had picked up on it, he had become something of Draco’s assistant each morning before class, helping him check off everything he’d need for his classes. 

It was surreal and so thoughtful that Draco wanted to cry in his more hormonal moments. 

One night, Potter came back from hanging out with his friends to find Draco trying to rub his own feet with a pained expression. 

“Are you hurting?” he asked, concerned. “Shall I call for Madam Pomfrey?”

“No,” Draco sighed, giving up and stretching out his legs. “They’re just swollen. Perfectly normal, I am told… Still annoying.”

Potter’s face softened to a frown before he sat next to Draco on his bed. “Lie back,” he ordered.

“What?” Draco frowned. 

Potter rolled his eyes and gently pushed Draco towards the pillow until his feet came onto the mattress. He took one of them into his lap and started kneading the sole with his thumb.

Draco groaned in surprise.

“What -” he began.

“Just relax,” Potter said. 

“Why are you so nice to me?” he whispered.

“Why can’t you just accept help?” Potter mocked, smiling.

“Because I don’t understand why you want to help me,” Draco deadpanned. 

Potter sighed, gently rolling each of Draco’s toes between his fingers. It felt unreasonably good. “Hermione says I have a thing for family and parenthood and you trigger that,” Potter shrugged. “I don’t know if that’s true, but I just don’t like the thought of you going through this on your own. Pregnancy is supposed to be something you share with someone.”

Draco stared at him, a lump in his throat. 

“So indulge me and let me help out every now and then,” Potter smiled. “I swear you’re not going to die.”

No, Draco thought, but he might get used to having him around, and that would be even worse. 

“Come on, Draco,” he smirked. “Scared?”

Draco couldn’t help but laugh then. “I knew it,” he said. “You are still twelve.”

“Why change a tactic when it works,” Potter shrugged.

“You’re horrible, Potter.”

“Harry,” Potter said softly. “I think we’re past the surnames.”

Draco gulped. “Okay,” he nodded. “Harry, then.”

Harry smiled at him, and Draco knew he was in deep shit.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

But what scares me the most
What scares me the most
Is what if when he sees me, what if he doesn't like it?
What if he runs the other way and I can't hide from it? (Ah)
What happens then? (Ah)
If when he knows me, he's only disappointed?
What if I give myself away, to only get it given back? (Ah)
I couldn't live with that (how do you live with that?)
So, I'm just fine, inside my shell-shaped mind
This way I get the best view
So that when he sees me, I want him too

- The Waitress, When He Sees me

October

“You know, Draco,” Luna Lovegood told Draco seriously from across the table they had settled on in the library. “Your baby is now the size of a sweet potato.”

Draco blinked at her. “Ahh,” he said, unsure what else to say. Harry grinned from next to him. 

“It also has ears,” Lovegood continued, “which means it can hear you.”

“Really?” Harry asked, looking up with interest. “Should we start speaking to it?”

“Harry,” Draco gaped at him. “It’s inside my stomach. You don’t need to speak to my stomach. ”

“Be quiet,” Harry said, as if Draco had no say in the matter.

“You know, Muggles believe hearing their parents' voices or music can be beneficial for the development of a baby,” Granger piped in. 

Harry looked at Draco triumphantly. “No, Potter,” Draco glared. “No matter how comfortable we got with each other, you’re not having conversations with any of my body parts.”

“You’re no fun,” Harry pouted. 

Draco looked back at his homework, unsure how to feel about the fact that Harry was so willing to volunteer for a task that was usually performed by a father, if at all.

Draco sighed, turning a page when he felt a gentle fluttering in his stomach. Draco blinked, halting, his eyes widening as it happened again. 

“Draco?” Harry asked, nudging him. “You okay?”

“I think the baby is moving,” he whispered.

“What?” Harry asked, looking excited. 

Without thinking, Draco reached for Harry’s hand and pressed it to the swell of his stomach. They waited with bated breath and then, it happened again - a small, shifting movement within Draco. Harry gasped. 

“I felt it,” Harry said, looking at him in awe. Draco couldn’t help but smile. 

When he looked up, he realised the whole table was staring at them: Weasley in open-mouthed shock, his sister with a spark of interest, Granger with something like calculation. Only Lovegood was smiling pleasantly.

Draco quickly let go of Harry’s hand, but Harry didn’t lower it from his stomach. The baby shifted again, making Harry chuckle. 

Sometimes, Draco forgot to restrain himself around Harry, and it was becoming problematic. Harry was so… enthusiastic about his pregnancy. He was so supportive, so comfortable with him, that it was easy to fall into an intimate bubble with him. 

But Harry wasn’t his partner, as much as he sometimes acted like he was. As much as Draco wished he was. 

“Um, yeah,” Draco said, spontaneously getting to his feet, making Harry’s hand fall from his stomach. “I should go up and -”

But that’s when a dizzy spell hit him. Fucking damn it. Stupid pregnancy. He couldn’t even make hasty escapes anymore.

“Not so fast!” Harry admonished, pulling him back down into his seat. “Where are you going, anyway? It’s not like you have anywhere to be!”

Draco grumbled under his breath, closing his eyes and trying to keep the room from spinning. Harry squeezed his shoulder in comfort.

He knew the others were still watching them, but he didn’t dare look up again.

He overheard the conversation between Harry, Weasley and Granger when he was going back from the shower to their room. Harry and Granger were standing in the doorway to the dorm Weasley was sharing with Corner, talking in hushed voices that still carried all the way to Draco.

“We just want you to be careful, Harry,” Granger pleaded. 

“Why?” Harry asked, sounding unimpressed. “Because he’s Malfoy? Because he used to be a Death Eater?”

“Sound like good enough reasons to be,” Weasley muttered, but he held his hands up when Harry glared at him.

“You’re not the baby’s father, Harry,” Granger said gently.

“I know that,” Harry hissed.

“Do you?” Granger asked. “Because you don’t behave like it.”
“Well - there is no father!” Harry protested. “Is it really so wrong to want to support him?”

“It’s not wrong,” Granger sighed. “I just don’t want you to get too attached and then get hurt when you have to let go.”

That’s when Draco made himself walk on, careful not to be overheard. He wanted to laugh, really. Of course, Granger would worry about her friend, but Draco knew she couldn’t be more off base. If anyone was in danger of being left on dry land, it was Draco, not Harry.

“Everything is developing nicely, Mr Malfoy,” Healer Goldstein said approvingly as she met him for his monthly checkup. “Actually, we’ll be able to tell the gender of the child now. Do you want to know?”

Draco blinked at her. He had been so occupied with getting through the pregnancy and school and Harry that he hadn’t considered whether or not he wanted to know. He looked down at his stomach, considering, then shook his head.

“No?” she asked.

“No,” he confirmed. “I don’t care about the gender. I just want it to be healthy.”

And that was true. He knew, in another universe, his father would be here, waiting impatiently to know whether or not an heir for the Malfoy line would be born. Draco didn’t want to be plagued with thoughts of that for the rest of his pregnancy. 

“Of course,” Healer Goldstein smiled. “If you change your mind, let me know.”

When Draco joined Harry and his group of friends at the Gryffindor table for lunch, he was humming under his breath. 

“Lovegood,” he said cheerfully. “What size is my baby now?”

Lovegood considered. “A bell pepper,” she decided. 

Draco grinned. His little bell pepper. He could work with that. 

November

“Draco,” Harry sighed. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“My little sweet corn is keeping me awake,” Draco shrugged. Just earlier this week, Luna had informed him his baby was now the size of an ear of corn. “Anyway, how am I supposed to sleep with that? ” Draco grumbled, gesturing to his sizeable belly. “It gets in the way of every comfortable position.”

“You need to sleep,” Harry insisted. “You need enough energy for two people!”

“One and a half,” Draco shrugged. “The little one barely counts as of yet.” Harry’s face was disapproving. “You worry too much, Potter,” he said, getting to his feet.

It was unfortunate that, at that moment, a dizzy spell so strong hit him that he staggered. Harry came up to steady him. 

“Yeah, right,” he said, his tone clipped. “You’re lying down. Now.”

“I have class,” Draco whined. 

“Hermione will give you her notes. Now get on the bed.”

Draco gave in, sitting down with an air of a martyr. “I won’t be able to fall asleep anyway,” he muttered.

Harry considered him for a long moment before sitting down next to him. “Right,” he said, moving up until he was perched against Draco’s pillow. “Come here?”

“What?” Draco asked, staring at him. 

“I’m going to make you rest,” Harry rolled his eyes. “Now come and lie down with me.”

Draco wasn’t sure how exactly it happened, but somehow, he ended up in Harry’s arms, with his head pillowed on Harry’s shoulder. It was terrible because it was so comfortable and warm. Draco couldn’t remember ever feeling that safe. 

“Close your eyes,” Harry insisted.

And when he did, Draco was gone to the world.

It became a thing then. When Draco couldn’t sleep, Harry would come and hold him and help him fall asleep. It was selfish and Draco should really stop it, but he didn’t know how to because it felt so good to be touched; to be held. Also, the position nuzzled up against Harry was just right for him to find rest, unlike everything else which left him aching. 

Draco could try to rationalise it as long as it happened behind the closed doors of their dormitory, but then, one day, Weasley burst in like a complete Neanderthal and found Draco safely tucked into Harry’s arms. He had stopped and stared at them for a good minute before walking out again without another word. 

Draco knew then and there that it had possibly gone too far, but he didn’t have it in him to refuse Harry. He was a weak person. So whenever Harry crawled into Draco’s bed, he just let him. 

By mid-November, though, Draco felt his anxiety skyrocketing. He was having such a hard time focusing on his school work with all the pregnancy that he sometimes caught himself falling behind - what if he failed his NEWTs? What if he had to go to Azkaban and they took away his baby? And the whole situation with Harry… It was just getting out of hand. In the beginning, it had felt self-sacrificing, not to tell him about his involvement in the pregnancy, but now, Harry was being so great and it was just starting to feel insincere. What if Harry really wanted to be part of his child’s life and Draco was taking that away from him? But also, what if Draco just wanted Harry to be a part of their lives so bad that if he forced it onto him now, he would feel responsible and Draco would ruin his life?

Harry did not deserve that, did he?

Usually, when Draco’s dark spirals hit, he managed to somehow snatch himself out of them eventually. Harry would say something or Lovegood would make a comment and he would focus on something else. But today, it had started in Ancient Runes, with no one but Granger around and had run its course and now, he could feel his fingers trembling and his breath hitch. 

He hid in their dorm, relieved to find it empty, for once. He shut the curtains around his bed, building a cocoon, and tried to breathe. 

He found he couldn’t.

He didn’t know how long it took for Harry to find him.

“Hey,” Harry said softly, sticking his head through the curtain. “What’s wrong?” 

Draco couldn’t speak so he just shook his head. Harry watched him for a long moment before crawling onto the bed with him.

“Draco,” he said softly. “Breathe.”

Draco wanted to laugh, but he had no air. If he knew how to, he would do it, wouldn’t he?

But then, Harry was stroking his back and speaking in a hushed voice and it was so soothing that Draco couldn’t help but focus on it.

“Come on, Draco, in and out, in and out, yes, that’s it…”

He tried, gasping air into his lungs, shallow and ineffective, but slowly, his breaths became longer and less laboured. Eventually, he sagged into Harry, tears running down his face.

“You wanna tell me what that was about?” Harry asked.

Draco shook his head. Harry just held him tighter. With some luck, he’d be able to chalk it off as a mood swing and Harry would let it go. 

Harry was nice like that. Draco didn’t deserve him.

“Potter,” Draco said, trying to make his voice sufficiently icy but suspecting he wasn’t managing. “What did I say about talking to my body parts?”

“Shush,” Harry said, not lifting his head from where it was resting in Draco’s lap. “I’m talking to your cauliflower.”

“Merlin,” Draco groaned, looking at the ceiling.

“You know,” Harry said in a confidential voice. “Your Daddy can be a right prat sometimes. But don’t let that deter you. He’s secretly a teddy bear.”

“Potter,” Draco hissed, alarmed. From the armchair across from them, Weasley was snorting, amused.

“More like a stuffed ferret,” he provided helpfully. 

“Ha fucking ha, Weasley,” Draco deadpanned.

“No swearing in front of the cauliflower,” Harry admonished.

“I doubt it minds,” Draco sniped. 

“He’s getting grumpy, isn’t he,” Harry said cheerfully, stroking the stomach. They both gasped when the gesture was answered by a firm kick.

“Well,” Harry grinned. “I’d say someone agrees with me.”

Draco glared at him halfheartedly but put a hand to his stomach, too. He smiled when there was another kick.

“Well,” he said softly. “Aren’t you opinionated for a cauliflower?”

“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Granger said with a soft smile. 

“You’re gonna be such a piece of work, aren’t you?” Harry said fondly, stroking Draco’s stomach. “Just like your Daddy.” He laughed when there was another kick.

“See,” Draco smiled. “That’s what you get for bullying me.”

Harry’s answering smile was so brilliant that Draco’s chest felt tight.

December

“Potter,” Draco gasped, “will you slow down? I’m not that quick on my feet anymore!”

“Sorry,” Harry said sheepishly, coming to a halt next to Draco so he could catch his breath. “To be fair, you have been very agile for your six months of pregnancy. It makes one forget.”

“That’s only because I am on good potions,” Draco muttered, leaning against a wall. Then, he grimaced when a sharp pain went through his abdomen, making him gasp.

“Draco?” Harry said, reaching out for his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Draco breathed, his heart racing as the fear sank in. “It hurts.”

“What hurts?” Harry asked, but then, another wave of pain grasped him and Draco whimpered. He fumbled for Harry’s arm, clinging to him.

“Do you want me to bring you to the hospital wing?” Harry asked, sounding forcibly calm, which was a bit of a comfort. 

“Yes,” Draco nodded. “Please.”

When Madam Pomfrey received them, Draco had worked himself into a frenzy. 

“It’s too early,” he murmured. “Something is wrong.”

“Let me be the judge of that, Mr Malfoy,” Madam Pomfrey said in her pragmatic tone. “Now please sit down on that bed and let me have a look at you.”

It turned out to be nothing dramatic, thank Merlin. Draco was just having some perfectly normal contractions. 

“Braxton Hicks,” Madam Pomfrey smiled. “Some don’t feel them at all, but for those who do, it can be a scare. Don’t worry, Mr Malfoy, everything is perfectly normal. I’ll make you some tea.”

Draco nodded, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. Harry sat down at his bedside.

“Well, you scared me,” he breathed.

“Thanks for being so calm-headed,” Draco said. “Sorry, I know this was dramatic. Male pregnancy symptoms are somewhat more defined at times.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry said, reaching out to squeeze his knee. “I’m just glad everything’s fine.”

When Madam Pomfrey returned with the tea, she had a cup for both of them ready, as if she had sensed Harry needed it, too. 

As Christmas approached, Draco dreaded going back to the Manor. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see his mother. He just didn’t want to be in that house , especially not while carrying his child. 

It was strange how much his shared dormitory with Harry had become a sanctuary for him. In front of Harry, he never had to hide how exhausted or hormonal he felt. Harry just took it in a stride and was all sweet about it, too. 

Maybe, Draco reflected, he would miss Harry the most. But it was also good training. Harry would not always be there to help him, after all. 

“You know you can write,” Harry told him when they packed their last things for the holidays. “If you feel like it, I mean.”

Harry wasn’t looking at him, but Draco had the distinct feeling he was as hesitant to separate from Draco as Draco was to separate from him. Which made no sense, of course… unless he thought Draco needed him. Harry had always had a soft spot for people in need, after all. 

“Thanks,” Draco nodded. “I will.” He vowed not to.

Narcissa Malfoy waited for Draco at the platform. “Look at you,” she said with a smile. “You have become so large.”

“Thank you, Mother,” he said wrily. 

He looked around for Harry one more time, finding him immediately. Harry’s eyes were already on him, and he smiled and waved, though his eyes looked a bit sad. Draco forced himself not to analyse as he waved back.

“Well,” his mother said with a quirk of her eyebrow as he turned back around. “That’s new.”

Draco sighed, falling into step behind her. “It’s complicated,” he said.

“I bet,” she agreed.

Draco received a letter from Harry on Christmas, along with a haphazardly wrapped present.

‘Dear Draco,’ it read, ‘Happy Christmas to you and your little cabbage! (Yes, I asked Luna for an update.) I hope you and your mother are having a nice, quiet Christmas. Merlin knows it will likely be the last one like that - next time, you will have someone small around to keep you on your toes! 

I know it’s a bit early, but I already have a present for your little cabbage. I know it’s used; it’s one of the few things I have left from my parents… But I couldn’t give it to Teddy when I became his godfather, and I thought I’d like your baby to have it. 

Love, Harry’

Draco stared at the letter for a long, long time before opening the present. It was a baby blanket, soft and used and with golden snitches glittering sawn into the fabric. Draco teared up.

Before he knew it, he was picking up his floo powder and flooing to Number 12, Grimmauld Place. He caught Harry as he was getting ready to go to the Burrow.

“Draco,” he said, staring at Draco in alarm, and Draco admitted, he must have made quite a sight, in the too-large, ugly sweater he had stolen from Harry and that he was sure that had once belonged to one of Harry’s Muggle relatives but that was now one of the few things that comfortably fit him, standing in Harry’s living room clutching a baby blanket and trying not to cry.

“I can’t take this,” he said, shoving the blanket at Harry. “It’s a memory of your parents. You should keep it for your children.”

Harry shrugged. “Why don’t you hold onto it for me?”

“It’s too much,” Draco insisted, with a hint of desperation. “I cannot -”

“A baby blanket is one of the first things your baby will need,” Harry interrupted him. “Let me give that to you. Okay? You will do me a favour.”

Draco stared at him, feeling helpless. Harry smiled and gently pushed the blanket back at Draco. 

“Thank you,” Draco whispered. 

When Draco went back home, he spent an hour crying into his pillow, clutching the blanket to his chest.

Chapter Text

I'm not defensive
I'm simply being cautious
I can't risk reckless dating
Due to my miscalculating why
(...)
He could be less than kind
Or even worse he could be very nice, have lovely eyes
And make me laugh, come out of hiding
What do I do with that?
Oh, god

- The Waitress, When He Sees Me

January

“Draco,” Harry beamed when he spotted Draco on the platform of the Hogwarts Express in the new year, weaving through the crowd to get to him faster. “How are you and your little pineapple?”

“Pineapple?” Draco asked, amused. “Is that the newest statement from Lovegood.”

“Yes,” Harry smirked. “Fresh from her lips.”

“Well,” Draco said. “The little pineapple is doing great. Kicking up a fuss. I, on the other hand, am feeling like shit.”

“He’s being dramatic,” his mother told Harry from next to him with a smile. “He’s perfectly healthy.

“No baby, no opinion!” Draco snapped, glowering at her. It only made her laugh. “I don’t want to know how you dealt with swollen feet and hands and cramps that come and go and having to run to the toilet every five seconds, only you can’t run -”

“I was grace itself,” his mother said with a small smile. “I never even complained.”

Draco huffed. “I’m sure Father can confirm that. Shall I write to him?”

“I don’t think he can receive letters,” she said vaguely, making Draco snort. 

Not that Draco would actually write, mind you. Though that would be a nice way of breaking the news. ‘Say, Father, how dramatic was Mother when she was pregnant with me? She says I’m unreasonably dramatic over it and I can’t let it stand. By the way, you’ll be a grandfather in less than two months. Kudos.’

Narcissa Malfoy just smiled at her son before turning to Harry. “Please watch out for my drama-queen of a son, Mr Potter,” she said. “I wished I could be there to support him in these last weeks of his pregnancy, but I can’t. I heard you’ve been a great help?”

“I’ll gladly be there for him,” Harry smiled, making Draco’s throat burn. Damn these stupid mood swings. 

“Thank you,” Draco’s mother said softly. “It takes a weight off my shoulder, to know he’s in good hands.”

Harry smiled and held out his arm for Draco to take it. “Come on, soon-to-be Daddy,” he said brightly. “Let’s find our seats.”

Draco nodded, unable to speak as he slid his arm through Harry’s.

“Only two more months, is it?” Ginny Weasley asked him the next morning over breakfast. Draco had actually got a halfway decent amount of sleep, with Harry holding him through the night, so he managed not to glower at her in reply.

“Seven weeks,” he agreed.

“Are you ready for it to be over yet?” she asked, smiling knowingly.

“You have no idea,” Draco grumbled, making her laugh.

“But it’s just going to get more complicated after, isn’t it?” Granger frowned. “Taking care of the baby while studying for the NEWTs?” 

“It’s gonna be hell,” Draco shrugged. “But McGonagall promised to enlist some house elves to help me so hopefully, I can manage.”

“When will you move into a private room?” Blaise asked. “Before or after the birth?”

“He’s not moving!” Harry looked up, sounding indignant. “He’s staying with me!”

Draco stared at him. “Harry, I can’t stay with you,” Draco said softly. “The baby will wake you up crying in the night. It will disturb your whole routine. That’s not fair to you.”

“You think I care about that?” Harry scoffed. “It will be fine! Stay!”

“Harry -” Draco began.

“No,” Harry shook his head, his tone final. “You’ll need help once the baby’s born, and I’m volunteering. So stop talking about leaving. We’ll manage.”

Harry didn’t look at Draco or anyone else as he kept eating, headless of the stares he received. 

“Well,” Blaise said, sounding amused. “I guess that’s settled.”

Draco looked at Granger at Weasley for help. Granger was biting her lip hard, clearly trying to stop herself from saying anything. Weasley was stuffing his mouth with food, not looking at anyone.

Right. Draco didn’t know what was happening, to be quite frank. But apparently, he was not allowed to move out. Good to know. 

He glanced at Harry again, who was still studying his breakfast as if it was the most enlightening thing in the world. 

“We should have a baby shower,” Lovegood announced, successfully distracting Draco. He turned to gape at her. 

“A baby shower?” he repeated.

“Yes,” she nodded eagerly. “So we can give you lots of presents and play games.”

“That sounds exciting,” Blaise grinned. “I’m in.” Draco was not surprised.

“So basically, I’m watching you get smashed while I can’t have a drink?” Draco deadpanned. “Is that what’s happening?”

“No,” Granger said immediately, looking appalled. “No alcohol at baby showers!”

“Boring,” Ginny Weasley pouted. 

“Are baby showers in the magical world anything like in the muggle world?” Granger asked, turning to Lovegood, who answered by pulling her into a deep discussion of present and game ideas. 

“Right,” Draco muttered. “I guess that’s happening then.”

“Don’t fight it,” Harry smiled, finally looking back up at him. “There are worse things than being showered in love and affection.”

“Is that what’s happening?” Draco asked, deeply sceptical. “I think they’re just trying to use my condition for their entertainment.”

“So cynical,” Harry shook his head.

“Of course,” Draco shrugged. “Why are you still surprised?”

“Why indeed,” Harry nodded. 

Draco’s baby shower happened two weeks later. Granger and Lovegood had decorated the Eighth Year Common Room with purple baby streamers (“Purple is gender-neutral,” Granger had reasoned. “Also, it doesn’t stand for any of the houses.”) and to his utter shock, the entire year plus the Girl-Weasley and Lovegood were present. 

He also got a mountain of gifts. It seemed like Granger, organised as she was, had made a list and made sure everyone put down what they planned to bring to make sure nothing was given twice. Draco couldn’t quite put his head around the effort that had been put into this.

“People like babies,” Lovegood had told him cheerfully. “And they like parties.”

It seemed like they really did. They enthusiastically participated in the most ridiculous of games (much to Draco’s dismay), like trying to pop balloons from underneath their shirts or a baby-themed bingo. But Draco also hadn’t seen so much laughter in ages, so he restrained himself from commenting. Harry gave him knowing smiles every now and then.

When the time came to open his presents, though, he became a bit choked up. Draco hadn’t really bothered making many purchases for the baby; they still had a lot of his old things at the Manor and Hogwarts and the house elves would provide a lot of the necessities while he was here. 

But now, he had everything he could ever think of needing.

Daphne had prepared a gift basket with nicknacks like diapers, a diaper bag, wet wipes, baby bottles, cloths and bibs. Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott had chosen an array of gender-neutral clothes: rompers, pyjamas, sweaters, pants, socks, shoes, hats and jackets. Terry Boot had bought teething toys that were especially charmed to soothe the baby’s gums. Blaise a baby bathtub that produced colourful bubbles. The Patil twins had given him a charmed activity centre. Anthony Goldstein and Michael Corner had produced so many toys that Draco wouldn’t even know where to store them. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan had somehow procured top-class baby care products such as magical baby powder laced with fairy dust and wound cream made of dittany (Seamus mumbled something about his cousin knowing someone). Earnie McMillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley had prepared a memory book which would fill itself automatically with photos and dates of important milestones. His mother had sent in a music box that had been in the family for generations. Neville Longbottom had bought a high chair with inlaid spells that prevented spilling and for the child to fall out of it. Ginny Weasley had brought a changing table, which Draco strongly suspected had belonged to her mother but Draco did not mind at all. Granger and Weasley had gotten him a baby carrier. Lovegood had made a mobile of tiny dragons who flapped their wings and sparkled. 

Harry, of course, had got two gifts, because he wasn’t satisfied if he didn’t go overboard. He had got a stroller and a crib.

“Hagrid helped me build the crib,” he confided. “It might not be what you imagined, but I wanted to give you something more personal.”

And really, Draco needed no luxurious magical crib that could sing his child to sleep and bounce it when it became restless or whatever was the fashion these days - if Harry had built him a crib, he would treasure it more than any other gift. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve all this,” Draco said quietly, clutching a stuffed Niffler to his chest (courtesy of Goldstein and Corner) to keep himself grounded. “But thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“Well, it’s for your little - what is it now? A melon?” McMillan asked, turning to Lovegood for confirmation.

“A Honeydew melon,” Lovegood nodded solemnly. 

“You know, this is the first baby born in our school year,” Susan said, smiling. “Isn’t that sort of cool?”

“I have to say, I did not think you’d be the first to become a Dad, Malfoy,” Finnigan shrugged. “But I guess fate is interesting like that.”

“I guess it is,” Draco allowed, putting a hand onto his belly when the baby kicked out lightly. 

“This child is gonna be so spoiled, though,” Parvati Patil grinned. “We’re all gonna want to play with it when it’s here.”

“So it’s going to be a Malfoy,” Ginny Weasley snorted. “Big surprise.”

Draco threw the Niffler at her. Weasley caught it with her quick Chaser reflexes. He glowered at her halfheartedly for a moment before wincing when the baby kicked out with full force. 

“Oi,” he complained, rubbing his stomach. “Cease that at once!” All he got for his troubles was another kick. 

Harry smiled and brought his own hand to Draco’s belly, rubbing it gently. “Don’t hurt your Daddy,” he said softly. “He’ll need his strength.”

The baby shifted once more before settling and stopping the ruckus. “How do you do that?” Draco grumbled. “It’s already listening to you more than to me.”

“Well, I bother talking to it regularly,” Harry teased. Draco rolled his eyes. 

“God, my back is killing me,” Draco grumbled as he sat down on the bed after a long day of classes. “I quit. The baby can just come out now.”

Harry smiled and sat behind him on the mattress to knead his back. Draco groaned in appreciation.

“You’re my hero,” he whimpered. “Fuck the Dark Lord, this is your calling.”

Harry chuckled. He was silent for a long moment before he spoke again. 

“Draco,” he said, his voice hesitant. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Draco said. “You can do anything as long as you keep your hands where they are.”

Harry laughed softly. Then, he said: “You know how I’m living in the old Black Estate, right?”

“Grimmauld Place? Yes,” Draco frowned. “Why?”

“Well, it’s an awfully big house for one person,” he said quietly. “And I’ve been wanting to renovate it professionally for a while, but I saw no point, doing it just for myself…”

“Okay,” Draco said, still frowning.

“Why don’t you move in with me?” Harry said, at last. “You know, after we’re done with Hogwarts. You and the baby.”

Draco froze. For a long minute, he could not say anything. He could just stare at the crackling fire in the fireplace, his heart racing. 

“I mean, I know you hate the Manor after everything that happened there,” Harry continued when he didn’t speak. “You don’t want to raise your child there. I know you, Draco. And why would you move somewhere else alone when I have this big house all to myself? I could help you with the baby and it would all be so much easier.”

“Easier?” Draco repeated, his voice trembling. “Harry, it’s a baby. It’s going to turn your life upside down.”

“I know that,” Harry sighed.

“Do you?” Draco asked. “Because it’s going to take over the whole house. It will scream at night and run all over the place as soon as it can walk. Forget dating, forget partying -”

“I don’t care, Draco!” Harry interrupted him, an edge to his voice. “I really don’t care. I want to be there for it all, okay? I want to live with the two of you.”

Draco fell silent. There was a lump in his throat the size of a Pigmy Puff. He had to tell him. Damn, this had gone on long enough. Draco had to tell him. 

“Draco?” Harry said gently, moving to sit next to him to be able to catch his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Draco said, blinking back tears. “Harry, I need to tell you something.”

“Okay,” Harry said, frowning. “What is it?”

“Please don’t be angry,” Draco whispered. “I - oh Merlin, please don’t hate me.”

“Hey, why would I hate you?” Harry said softly, bringing an arm around Draco to pull him closer. “Come on, that’s ridiculous.”

“I lied to you,” Draco admitted.

Harry stilled, staring at him. “How?” he asked carefully.

Draco gulped convulsively. Then, he closed his eyes and said: “Remember that night in May?”

“Well, no, I thought we had established that I don’t,” Harry said. 

“Yeah, but you were there,” Draco pointed out.

“Right,” Harry frowned. “Draco, where is this going?”

“I told you I didn’t know who the father was,” Draco whispered. “But that was a lie. I know.”

“You - wait, did you find him?” Harry asked, looking pale now. “Are you moving in with him, or -”

“No,” Draco groaned. “Harry, you ’re the father!”

Harry blinked, gaping. “What?” he asked, stunned.

“We were both drunk,” Draco breathed. “I asked you to dance and we ended up kissing and then, one thing led to another…” Draco bit his lip, shaking his head. “I wanted to tell you after the trial, but then you didn’t remember, and I thought -”

“You thought you’d hide the fact that I have a child from me?” Harry asked, finally letting go of him. His voice was cold, his green eyes blazing with hurt and fury.

“No,” Draco shook his head. “I thought you wouldn’t believe me! And also, that you probably wouldn’t want to know.”

“Wouldn’t want to know?” Harry called, getting to his feet. “Draco, what about my behaviour made you think I wouldn’t step up to be there for my own child?!”

“I just - I didn’t think you’d want a child with someone like me ,” Draco admitted, his voice trembling so badly he barely got out the words. 

“Oh yes, because I’ve definitely been so judgemental of your past as of late,” Harry snapped.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” Draco said, his tears starting to fall now. “I’m sorry, Harry, I couldn’t have imagined you’d get so attached or that you’d -”

“Even if I hadn’t, you should have told me!” Harry snapped. “This is my child , Draco! My family! I already lost so many people, and you were going to take that from me, too?!”

Draco whimpered. “I didn’t want -”

“I can’t do this right now,” Harry said, taking a step back. “I need to leave. I need to process this.”

“Harry,” Draco begged. “Please -”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “Leave me be.”

And then, he stormed out of their dorm, leaving Draco to succumb to his sobs. 

It took half an hour before Draco dared search Harry out again. He wasn’t in the Common Room, but he found him in Weasley’s dorm with him and Granger. Weasley was sneering at him when he opened the door and found Draco outside, standing in the doorway to effectively block his entry.

“What do you want?” he snarled.

“I want to talk to Harry,” he said his voice brittle.

“What, so you can sell him more lies about how that bastard child of yours is his?” he snorted. “Yeah, fat chance, Malfoy.”

Draco flinched. He’d expected not to be believed from the start, but now that it was happening, it hurt like hell. 

“I’m not lying,” Draco said, trying to keep his voice as even as possible. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner, but he is the father.”

“Of course he is,” Weasley called, his voice growing louder. “That’s a nice story, now that he basically offered to take care of you and the child already, isn’t it? Clean and simple. Harry is rich, famous, reliable and convenient. I’d want him as a father if I were you, too, Malfoy!”

“That’s not -”

“Even if Harry was there that night, how would we ever be sure you weren’t sleeping around with the whole pub that night?!” he shouted. 

“Ron,” Harry’s voice came from inside the room, his tone one of warning, but Weasley’s voice just rose. 

“Was this your plan all along, then? Trying to get close to Harry so he’d become your Baby Daddy?”

“Ron!” Harry called, at last, turning up behind Weasley, his face furious. “Stop shouting at him, goddamnit, he’s almost nine months pregnant!”

Weasley whirled around to face him. “Why are you defending him?!” he demanded. “He deserves it! He’s just as much of a snake as -”

“That’s the father of my child you’re talking about,” Harry said, his voice dangerous. “So shut the fuck up.”

Weasley fell silent. He glanced at Draco, huffing. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that, without Veritaserum,” he muttered.

“He’s pregnant, Ron!” Granger called, sounding exasperated. “You can’t dose him with Veritaserum! It could hurt the baby!”

“Well, after, then,” he shrugged. “Or a paternity test when it’s born.”

“Just sit down, you moron,” Granger groaned. “Let them talk.”

Weasley grumbled but went to sit with Granger. Finally, it was just Draco and Harry in the doorway. 

“Harry,” Draco whispered. “I -”

“Can you please just -” Harry broke off, shaking his head. “I need some time, Draco.”

Draco blinked against the tears. “I’m not lying,” he muttered. “And I’m so sorry. I was trying to do right by you, even if it doesn’t seem that way -”

“You know,” Harry sighed, sounding so, so tired, and Draco’s heart, where it had started to mend over the last couple of months, splintered all over again. “I believe that. That doesn’t make it hurt any less, though. I need to figure out how I can still trust you.”

Draco tried to hold in his sob. He nodded. “Okay,” he whispered. “I - I’ll go and ask McGonagall for a private room -”

“No,” Harry said sharply. “I - just - I’ll stay with Ron for tonight. Stay in the room. We’ll talk when I’ve had some time to think.”

Draco nodded, hesitating, but when Harry started to close the door, he had no choice but to go back to his room. He turned and started to walk, but he was so dizzy that he needed to stop and cling to the wall for support.

He hadn’t even noticed Granger coming up behind him.

“Hey,” she said gently. “You don’t look well. Come on, I’ll help you back to your room.”

And she took Draco’s arm and grounded him on their slow journey across the corridor. Draco tried hard to focus on putting one foot in front of the other, but he was so dizzy and uncoordinated and his tears and the fact that he couldn’t seem to get any air into his lungs didn’t help the matter. 

“Draco, you need to calm down,” Granger said softly. “This can’t be good for the baby.”

And Draco was trying, he really was, but he just couldn’t. The look of hurt and disappointment on Harry’s face kept coming back to him, and he couldn’t draw any air.

“I was trying to do the right thing,” Draco gasped out as Granger helped him onto his bed.

“I believe that,” she said softly, her eyes full of sympathy and sadness. “It’s just - do you know that he grew up in an abusive environment?”

Draco just stared at her. He couldn’t speak. 

“He grew up without parents and feeling unwanted,” she shook her head. “And he’s been looking for a family to claim as his ever since. Sirius came close, but he was taken from him, too. The Weasleys have been doing their best, but I don’t think it's enough to satisfy that longing inside him. Teddy is a piece of that puzzle now, but we can all feel that he’s still looking for more.” Granger sat next to him, her hand finding his back, stroking soothing circles, but it didn’t help. 

“When you turned up at school pregnant and Harry suddenly fawned all over you, I could see what was happening. Why he was drawn to you. That doesn’t mean he didn’t grow to care for you, but I think what initially drew him in was that longing to feel like a part of your growing family, even if he would never admit that. Maybe it wasn’t even conscious, I don’t know.” She sighed, shaking her head. “But you two grew so close and it became so much more than that. We all could see it. So for Harry to find out now that it’s his child now; I think it feels like you’ve been wanting to cheat him out of the one thing he’s always wanted, even if that was not your intention.”

Draco’s lips trembled. “When I tried to talk to him at the trial,” he said. “He was so… cold. I was sure he wouldn’t want to know. That it would destroy his life to be tied down to me like that.”

“But it’s been a long time since that day,” Granger said softly. “Why haven’t you said anything since?”

“I thought he might have felt sorry for me,” Draco shrugged. “He likes to help people, doesn’t he? Also, I was afraid,” his arms went around his stomach, hugging it for support. “I didn’t want to lose him.”

“I see,” Granger sighed. 

“I should just give him the baby after it’s born and disappear,” Draco whimpered, even as he was hugging his stomach protectively. “It would be best for everyone. Even when I’m trying to do the right thing, I burn everything I touch. How am I supposed to raise this child right? I’m going to fuck it up like I fuck everything else up. I should just leave it to Harry and -”

“Draco,” Granger said, her voice hard. “Stop. You need to calm down, now.”

Draco just sobbed, pressing his eyes closed against the tears. Granger squeezed his shoulder. 

“There’s a spell,” she said eventually. “To put you into a sort of trance. It will make you calm down and fall asleep. I suggested it to Harry once when you couldn’t fall asleep but he refused because the person who cast the spell would also have to break it and he didn’t want to put you under anything you couldn’t break out of yourself.” She paused. “I think I should cast it on you now. You can’t drink calming potion and this is really dangerous for your baby.”

Draco nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Do it.”

“Do you want me to explain about the spell first, or -”

“I trust you,” Draco shook his head. “You’re smart enough to know what you’re doing.”

And of course, she did. Soon, Draco found himself drifting off into sleep, his panic and pain flooding away as if it had never been there in the first place.

He dreamt of that night in Chelsea. He was dancing with Harry and they were kissing. Harry was grinding into him and he could feel him and smell him and everything was perfect.

And then, suddenly, Draco was in pain. His whole abdomen seemed to have seized up, cramping in a way that made him want to keel over. 

In a distant corner of his mind, Draco became aware that he was dreaming. The club wasn’t real. But the pain, that was very real.

But he wouldn’t wake up. 

He tried hard to open his eyes as wave after wave of pain crashed over him, but he couldn’t. He stayed in that club, music loud in his ears.

Harry had disappeared.

Finally, he woke with a gasp. There were tears streaming down his face. Granger’s voice filtered in his ears.

“Merlin, Draco, I’m so sorry!” she called, her hand coming to his shoulder. “I came to check on you and you were writhing in your sleep -”

Another wave of pain hit him. Draco groaned and closed his eyes. His hand found Granger’s wrist, closing around it in an iron grip.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Are you in pain?”

Draco could only nod. 

“I’m calling Madam Pomfrey,” she said, and Draco could hear her casting a Patronus and giving it a message. All through it, Draco tried to focus on breathing. Finally, the pain subsided again.

“Is it coming?” Granger asked. 

“I don’t know,” Draco shook his head. “It’s too early.” He looked at Granger. “Can you please get Harry?”

She nodded, squeezing his shoulder before stepping away from the bed. Draco forced himself to let go of her.

“I’ll be right back,” she promised. 

Draco stared up at the ceiling, trying to calm himself, but his mind was racing in panic. What if he was losing the baby? What if the stress had been too much and he had fucked everything up?

His thoughts were interrupted by loud, hasty footsteps from the corridor and then, Harry burst through the door, in a too-large pyjama that clearly belonged to Weasley, dishevelled and pale. 

“Draco,” he gasped, crossing the room until he was at his bedside, immediately reaching for his hand. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” Draco whispered, his voice breaking. “Harry, I’m so sorry -”

“Don’t,” Harry said firmly. “Not right now. I don’t want to hear it.” Then, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Draco’s forehead. 

And then, another wave of pain crashed down onto Draco, and he whimpered as he clung to Harry’s hand. Harry squeezed back and murmured encouragement into his ear that he barely heard, but his voice, his presence alone was calming. 

Then, more footsteps and Madam Pomfrey appeared in the room with Healer Goldstein. 

“Well, Mr Malfoy, I didn’t think we’d see each other again so soon,” she said, in her positive, chipper manner. “Is the little one coming a bit early?”

“I don’t know,” Draco shook his head, a tear escaping his eyes. “Please tell me nothing is wrong, I can’t -”

She put a soothing arm on his. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll do everything I can.”

And then she started casting a few charms, humming in acknowledgement at the results. When Draco seized up in pain again, she asked: “How close are the waves apart?”

“I don’t know - the last one was maybe a minute or two ago?” Harry said helplessly.

“Alright,” she nodded. “Mr Malfoy, your baby definitely wants out, and now.”

“But it’s too early,” he protested.

“Three weeks are fine,” she said encouragingly. “Not ideal but not unusual for male pregnancies. We can handle it.” She turned to everyone else in the room. “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to ask all of you to leave.”

“I’m the father,” Harry said, in a dangerous tone. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Healer Goldstein blinked at him, perplexed. “Well, that’s a new development.” She glanced at Draco for confirmation, who only nodded through the pain. “Alright then. But this is not going to be pretty, Mr Potter. Female birthing processes aren’t easy to watch, but male birthing processes -”

“I don’t care,” Harry cut her off, “I’ll be here for Draco, and I’ll be here when my child is born.”

“Ok,” she nodded. “Stay then. Everyone else, out.”

Draco heard Granger say something in encouragement to both of them and saw Weasley over her shoulder, looking pale and worried, but then, the door closed, and it was only Healer Goldstein, Madam Pomfrey, him and Harry. Harry squeezed his hand tightly and kissed his temple. Draco clung to him as he got caught up in another wave of pain. 

“You’re doing great, darling,” Harry whispered in his ear. “Just a bit more. Hold on.”

“It hurts,” Draco whimpered.

“I know,” he nodded. “I know. I’m so sorry. Hold on.”

“I have some potions for you, Mr Malfoy,” Healer Goldstein said, bursting their little bubble. “One is for the pain, the other is to put you into a healing sleep. The pain potion works immediately, the sleeping potion will take effect more slowly.”

Draco nodded, turning to allow her to administer the potions. 

“He won’t be awake when the baby is born?” Harry asked as the first potion started to take effect, the pain fading rapidly.

“No,” Healer Goldstein shook her head. “It would be too painful for him.”

And then, the second potion started to hit, drowsiness coming over him.

“Harry,” Draco breathed, making Harry look at him in worry. “Harry, I’m - I’m so sorry,”

“Hey, stop,” Harry shook his head, tenderly stroking his hair from his sweaty forehead. “No apologies allowed today. You’re giving birth to our child. Nothing else matters. You have nothing to apologise for.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Draco mumbled, a tear escaping his eyes. “I don’t know how I would get through this without you.”

Harry caught his tear with his thumb. Then, he leaned in and pressed his lips to Draco’s. It was a chaste kiss, soft and sweet, but it made Draco feel so loved he wanted to burst. 

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” Harry said fiercely, pulling away to look at him. “Now go to sleep. I’ll be right here, I promise.”

And Draco closed his eyes and was gone to the world.

When he woke up, he felt like he was weighted down by stones. Everything seemed to hurt. He tried to move, grimacing at the way his muscles pulled from the strain. 

He tried to listen without opening his eyes. He was in his bed, naked, the sheets tightly wrapped around him. The fire was crackling in the distance. The rest of the room was silent. 

Then, Draco heard a soft cooing sound. A baby sound.

He opened his eyes and turned to the sound.

Harry was sitting at his bedside, cradling their child in his arm. For a long moment, Draco just stared, transfixed.

The baby was wrapped up in Harry’s baby blanket and Harry was rocking it gently back and forth, an impossibly soft look on his face. Then, he looked up and their eyes met.

“You’re awake,” he breathed, his eyes widening. “How are you feeling?”

“Bloody exhausted,” Draco croaked, making Harry smile. “Did everything go okay?” he asked, nodding to the baby with some trepidation.

“Everything went perfectly,” Harry smiled. “We have a healthy daughter.”

“A daughter,” Draco breathed. 

“Yes,” Harry beamed. 

“And - there’s nothing wrong?” Draco asked again, needing to confirm. “She came early, I mean -”

“Healer Goldstein checked her over and gave her a couple of potions to counteract some concerns that could have popped up with an early birth, but she is healthy, she assured me,” Harry nodded. “As long as we keep bringing her in for checkups and watch out for any abnormalities, she should develop normally. Whatever ‘normally’ means, anyway.”

“Okay,” Draco said, trying to breathe easy. “Okay.”

“Do you want to hold her?” Harry asked, carefully getting to his feet to get closer to Draco.

“I - I don’t know how,” Draco said, feeling stupid. 

“It’s okay,” Harry smiled, undeterred. “I’ve had some practice with Teddy. I can show you.”

And then, he lowered their daughter into Draco’s arms, showing him how to support her head. Draco’s chest tightened as his eyes roamed over her.

She was so tiny. He wasn’t sure if that was the premature birth or if that was normal, but she seemed unnaturally fragile. She had her eyes closed and was snuggling into the blanket, but fine black curls were peeking out from her cocoon. Draco touched her hand and realised that, even with her rosy baby glow, her skin was noticeably darker than his own pale one.

“She looks like you,” he whispered, smiling involuntarily. 

“I think she has your nose,” Harry grinned. 

“You can’t possibly tell,” Draco chuckled. “Look at how tiny it is!”

“Oh, I’ve looked at your nose enough,” Harry said, leaning in to kiss Draco’s nose softly. “I can tell.”

Draco looked at him helplessly. Harry caught his eyes, then leaned in again to press their lips together. He leaned their foreheads together. 

“Thanks, Draco,” he breathed. “I know it was an accident, but you gave me the most beautiful present anyone could have ever given me. Thank you.”

“I don’t deserve thanks,” Draco protested. 

“Yes, you do,” Harry insisted. “I mean, I’m still angry that you kept my involvement in this pregnancy from me for so long. We will talk about this eventually. But right now, I’m just happy and grateful.” He kissed Draco’s forehead again. “And I want you to quit worrying and be happy, too, because we have a beautiful daughter.”

Draco gulped against the lump in his throat and nodded. He smiled as he gently stroked their daughter’s hair, careful not to disturb her. 

“She is beautiful,” he agreed.

Harry hummed and leaned in to gently kiss the top of her head and Draco was so consumed by love for both of them that he almost couldn’t stand it.

Chapter Text

What if when he sees me
I like him and he knows it?
What if he opens up a door
And I can't close it? (What if you only open up?)
What happens then?
If when he holds me (when)
My heart is set in motion (he)
I'm not prepared for that (holds)
I'm scared of breaking open (me)
(What if you only open up?)
But still I can't help from hoping (in hope for love?)
To find someone to talk to
Who likes the way I am
Someone who when he sees me
Wants to again

- The Waitress, When He Sees Me

January

Draco wasn’t sure how long they just stayed there, huddled together on his bed, fawning over their daughter, but it was peaceful, and Draco didn’t want to move. So when someone knocked tentatively at the door, he was annoyed, but when Granger poked her head through the door and anxiously asked if she was disturbing, Draco couldn’t really be upset. Even when Weasley came skulking in behind her, he bit his tongue.

She had been there when he'd needed her, even after everything.

“Is that her?” she asked with a wide smile as she approached them. “Oh, look at her! She’s beautiful!”

“Isn’t she?” Harry said proudly, his finger stroking up and down her arm. 

“She looks just like you, Harry,” Weasley said softly.

“Doesn’t she just,” Draco agreed, making him wince.

“Malfoy,” he began. “I -”

“Don’t,” Draco shook his head. “Let’s not. Not right now.”

Weasley bit his lip but nodded. Harry kissed Draco’s temple. 

“How are you feeling?” Granger asked Draco. “Madam Pomfrey told us everything went okay, but that didn’t mean that you weren’t going to feel pretty battered for a couple of days.”

“Well, I’d like to sleep for five days,” Draco agreed, smiling down at their daughter. “But I don’t think someone will let me.”

“I could ask for that private room that was reserved for you,” Harry offered. “Take care of her on my own until you feel better -”

“Are you kidding me?” Draco snorted. “You two are going nowhere.” 

Harry smiled, looking relieved.

“Have you thought about a name?” Granger asked.

Harry looked at Draco. “I don’t know,” he said. “I mean, I didn’t think I had a say…”

Draco wasn’t looking at Harry, instead offering their daughter his finger to close her fist around as he muttered: “I was considering Lily.”

He could feel everyone staring at him, but Harry’s gaze was by far the hottest.

“Really?” Harry breathed. 

“Originally, I’d have put it as a middle name, to not be too obvious about it,” Draco shrugged. “But now I don’t need to hide it anymore, do I?”

When he looked up at Harry, his green eyes looked watery. “I’d love that,” he nodded. “Thank you.” He leaned in to press a kiss to Draco’s lips, lingering for a couple of seconds before pulling away. 

“Right then,” Draco nodded, smiling and moving his finger, which their daughter was still clutching. “Lily? What do you think?”

On cue, she kicked out her foot, making them all laugh,

“Is that a yes or a no?” Draco asked, amused.

“Let’s take it as a yes,” Harry decided. “What was going to be her other name?”

“Lyra,” Draco said. “I was going to keep following the tradition of using constellations as namesakes.”

“I like it,” Harry smiled. “Maybe we can make it her middle name? So she’ll have a name from both of us since Lily is more of a nod to me.”

“Okay,” Draco agreed. “Lily Lyra Potter-Malfoy. Merlin, she’s one day going to hate us for all the names.”

Harry chuckled. “It could be worse. Dumbledore had like a hundred.”

“Right. It was common at the time, too, though I think that today, it might be considered child abuse.”

As if to agree with his statement, Lily whined and squirmed in his arms.

“Now, now,” Harry murmured, moving to take her from Draco. “Are you hungry?”

Draco found that they had been left bottles for her on a stasis charm, so all Harry had to do is pick one up and sit down in a comfortable position as he tried to feed her. Draco watched them for a moment before becoming very aware that he was still very much naked underneath the covers. He pulled the sheets tighter around himself, startling a little when Granger carefully sat down on the side of his mattress. 

“I brought you two some food,” she smiled, unpacking a bag Draco hadn’t even realised she was holding. She handed Draco a sandwich and a bottle of pumpkin juice before laying out more sandwiches and fruits on his bedside table. “Thought you could use it. You’ll need your strength.”

“Thank you, Granger,” Draco said softly, staring at the sandwich in his hand. “For everything.”

“Don’t you think it’s time we drop the last names?” she chuckled. 

Draco looked up at her hesitantly. Her smile was warm and with no lingering trace of all the anger, he probably deserved. He didn’t know when exactly he’d been forgiven, really, and he still felt it hard to trust the fact that he indeed had been, but maybe, he figured, it was time for a leap of faith.

“Hermione,” he said, making the girl at his bedside smile in satisfaction. 

“Come on, Lily,” Harry said gently. “I thought you were hungry?”

Lily let out a wail that clearly meant that no, she was not, stop being an idiot, Daddy. 

“Alright, alright,” Harry said, putting down the bottle and getting up the rock her. “Are you fussy because you’re tired?”

Draco grimaced as he bit into his sandwich. He didn’t particularly feel hungry, but he had a feeling he wasn’t going to get to sleep any time soon, either.

Half an hour later, Lily had still not settled down. Draco’s head was pounding as Hermione, who had tried to relieve Harry, was singing to her and was drowned out by Lily’s screams.

“Stop,” Draco groaned. “Just give her to me.”

“You’re supposed to rest,” Harry frowned, but Hermione seemed about ready to try anything to make the baby in her arms shut up, so she gently lifted her into Draco’s arms. 

“Thanks,” Draco said. “Help me get her out of the blanket.”

“She’ll get cold,” Harry frowned, but Hermione ignored him, pulling the blanket away until Lily lay directly against Draco’s chest, skin to skin.

“Alright,” Draco hummed, kissing her head. “I know, this is all new and scary. So many people. Yes, I know. But you’ll get used to it. Yes. Why don’t you rest with me now, hm? We’re both tired, aren’t we, Princess?”

And slowly, her cries calmed to hiccups until she eventually settled against him, just breathing. 

“How did you do that?” Harry asked, bewildered.

“Well,” Draco whispered. “Imagine being in someone’s warm body for nine months and then getting out and everything is loud and cold and strange. I’d be angry, too.”

“You’re familiar,” Hermione realised. “Your body, your voice.”

Draco hummed in agreement and kissed his daughter's curly head. “I think we’ll just need some cuddle time over the next few weeks,” he said.

Harry smiled softly, stroking Draco’s hair back. “You should sleep, now that she settled down,” he suggested. 

Draco nodded. “Just a few more moments, until we’re sure she won’t wake up,” he muttered, his eyes already half-closed. Lily’s even breathing was so soothing. “Then you can put her into her crib.”

“Okay,” Harry agreed, continuing to stroke his hair. 

“We should leave you two to it,” Weasley said, catching Hermione’s eyes. “If you need anything, send a Patronus. We’ll fetch it.”

“Thanks. We appreciate it.”

Draco didn’t open his eyes when the door fell closed or when Harry pressed another kiss to his forehead. 

“I kind of want to freeze this moment,” he whispered. 

“Why?” Draco asked, half-asleep. “Because we’re both quiet, me and Lily?”

Harry chuckled, kissing his nose. “No, you moron,” he said. “Because I just want to sit here and look at you two forever.”

“Creep,” Draco said, with Herculian effort, and Harry gently pulled at a strand of his hair in retaliation. 

“I’m gonna put her down now,” Harry announced. 

Draco nodded and didn’t bother opening his eyes when Harry lifted Lily from his arms. She didn’t wake, either. 

He heard Harry walk around the room for a while until eventually, he slid into bed next to Draco in only his pants. Skin to skin, like he’d been with Lily.

“Is this okay?” Harry asked hesitantly.

Draco hummed and nodded, turning until he was wrapped in Harry’s arms. Maybe under other circumstances, it would have been sexual, but here, like this, it was just intimate. Draco wanted to soak in it. 

“Rest,” Harry breathed, kissing his forehead again, and Draco put his cheek against Harry’s shoulder and fell asleep immediately.

They spent the first few days mostly in their room, just getting to know Lily. Draco took a while to recover his strength completely and Madam Pomfrey popped in on them regularly to check up on him. “It’s normal,” she assured him. “Your body has undergone an enormous task, and you can’t recover like you normally would since you’re already taking care of another human being who’s disturbing your rest.”

That much was true. Lily was a very needy child. “Definitely your daughter,” Harry teased, which Draco met with half-hearted glares but couldn’t bring himself to argue about because he silently agreed. 

But despite all the times she woke them up in the middle of the night or she kept whining until someone cuddled her or paid attention to her, Draco couldn’t remember ever feeling this content. Harry, in all his eagerness and gentleness, was a fantastic father and partner, and though Draco couldn’t remember what it felt like to feel truly awake, he found himself opening up and relaxing around him in a way he never had around anyone.

Then again, there was no need for walls, not anymore. There were no secrets left. 

“Parenthood looks good on you,” Lovegood told him when she first visited them three days after Lily was born. 

“What?” Draco scoffed. “Do I make dark shadows under the eyes look stylish?”

“No,” she shook her head. “It’s your aura. It’s brighter.”

“I think what she’s saying is that you’ve softened, Malfoy,” Ginny Weasley translated, grinning from where she was rocking Lily. 

Draco made a face. “Don’t say that,” he admonished. “People might hear you.”

She just chuckled but grimaced when Lily spit up on her shirt.

“That’s it, Lily,” Draco praised as she gave her back to him so she could spell her uniform clean again. “You show her not to talk about your Papa like that.”

They’d settled on ‘Papa’ for Draco and ‘Daddy’ for Harry, realising it would be too confusing otherwise. Draco kept teasing Harry that ‘Papa’ was the easier word to pronounce and she surely would say it first, enjoying the way it riled Harry up. “You got to carry her for the first nine months,” he hissed. “Stop monopolising her!”

In truth, Draco far from monopolised her, and they both knew it. Harry took over a lot of the work in the beginning, and not only because Draco needed to rest; Draco understood that Harry felt the urge to be active with Lily when he hadn’t known of his connection to her for so long. And Draco, quite honestly, was more than happy to watch them interact. It felt him with so much happiness because there had been a time when he hadn’t thought he’d get to see it.

Hermione and Weasley were also stubbornly helpful, bringing them food and taking Lily off their arms whenever possible. So when Harry asked tentatively if Draco had thought about godparents, Draco knew there was only one option. 

“Hermione helped so much around the birth,” Draco said. “It’s only right. And well, I’m not Weasley’s biggest fan, but I know he’s trying and you are close.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, kissing him softly. “This means a lot to me. I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” Draco shrugged. “But if we have another one, I want Lovegood as a godmother, just for the laughs.”

Harry grinned, kissing him again.

After Harry had broken the news to them, Weasley had tried to apologise to Draco again. 

“I was really out of line,” he said, looking uncomfortable. “I’m actually trying to become less narrow-minded, but I think you pushed all the wrong buttons at the wrong time. Not that that’s an excuse. My protectiveness of Harry shouldn’t have been channelled that way. It could have been really dangerous for you and Lily, and I’m really sorry.”

“Thanks for saying that,” Draco frowned. “But I don’t actually need to hear it. I did worse. Let’s just call it even.”

“Well, you apologised, too,” Weasley shrugged awkwardly. “Even if I never answered your letter. So it’s only fair.”

“Well, apology accepted, then,” Draco said. “I’m happy as long as you’re a good godfather to Lily.”

“I’ll do my best,” Weasley promised. 

In the silence that followed, Draco fought down the need to add things to the conversation, like ‘I haven’t been with anyone but Harry since Lily was conceived, just so you know,’ or ‘Harry was the only person who ever fucked me,’ but he reminded himself that it was none of Weasley's business. They all knew Lily was Harry’s. No one needed to know more than that.

Well, Harry knew, now that they had actually talked. About three days after the birth they had lain in bed and split their hearts open. Draco had let Harry get angry. He’d been vulnerable and told him everything, from beginning to end. Afterwards, they’d been both emotionally exhausted and Harry had pulled him into his arms, just holding him close.

“I love you,” he’d said, after a while. Draco’s heart had stopped. “Like, completely. I mean, I knew what it was like to be in love, or at least I thought I did, but with you, it’s like… I feel it with my whole being, with every part of me. It’s more than just being in love. I love you, totally. Lily, too. So yes, you screwed up. You’re probably going to screw up again someday. So am I. So is Lily. We’re human. But I don’t care. I want to be with you. I choose you.”

And that, really, should be enough for anyone. Harry loved him, unconditionally. Ron Weasley needed no further explanations, and neither did anyone else.

February

On Saturday, exactly a week after Lily was born, they decided it was time for them to join the world outside of their room again. They called for Kreacher, the house elf Harry had inherited with the Black estate, to take care of Lily for a while, and he stepped up to the task with glee. 

And so, Harry and Draco were free to go to breakfast. 

Draco had to admit, he had a hard time, at first. It made no sense; he had been brought up by house elves at least part-time himself and he knew it was about time he got back to class so he could pass his NEWTs. He couldn’t exactly have Hermione come into his room to have him read her notes out to him as he bounced Lily forever. It was time he got reacquainted with the outside world, and that meant entrusting Lily to others.

“Lily is not only my child, she is also a Black by blood,” Harry assured him. “Believe me, Kreacher has been dying for this task. We couldn’t find anyone to take better care of her.”

“I know,” Draco groaned. “I just feel like I’ve left a limp behind.”

Harry laughed and wrapped an arm around his waist as they entered the Great Hall. At first, no one noticed them, which was good, since Draco needed a few moments to get reacquainted with the noise level. It seemed particularly loud after being cooped up for a week.

But then, they made their way to the Gryffindor table and people notice them.

“Draco!” Daphne called from across the room. “There you are! I thought you’d quit and become a housewife!”

Draco sent her a rude gesture, making several people laugh. 

“Good to see you, Malfoy!” Macmillan called as he passed him and Finch-Fletchley. “How’s the baby?” 

“Good,” Draco said. 

“Where is she?” Bones said. “You should have brought her?”

“Yes!” Abbott called. “We all want to meet her!”

“We can bring her to the Common Room tonight,” Harry chuckled, making all of them cheer. “Now, let us eat, please!”

They finally reached the Gryffindor table and Draco’s mouth watered at the sight of bacon. He hadn’t felt like bacon in forever. He greedily filled his plate, only half-listening to the conversation around them as he tugged in. 

“It’s next week,” Hermione said. “Are you going to meet Narcissa?”

And only when he realised that she was looking at him did he swallow his bite and ask: “What?”

“The next Hogsmeade weekend,” she smiled. “It’s next week. Are you going to meet your mother? You said you wanted to introduce her to Lily.”

“Oh, yes,” Draco blinked, nodding. “I guess I should write to her, then.”

Draco had written to her after Lily had been born, inviting her to Hogwarts with McGonagall’s permission, but she had refused. “I don’t feel quite welcome at Hogwarts. I’m afraid,” she had said. “But please tell me when you’ll next be at Hogsmeade so I can meet you, Lily and Harry.”

Draco hadn’t tried to argue with her. He knew that, had there been no other alternative, she would have come to see him, but since Hogsmeade trips were fairly frequent, she had an easy out. He still wished she’d have come. It would have been nice, to see her after the birth.

“Have you told your Dad yet?” Weasley asked, and when everyone looked at him pointedly, he asked: “What? Wasn’t I allowed to ask?”

“It’s fine,” Draco waved it off. “No, I haven’t. I keep pushing it off. I sort of hope I can have Mother do it for me.”

“But, I mean, as far as Baby Daddys go, Harry isn’t bad, isn’t he?” Ginny Weasley shrugged. “He’s famous and influential. I thought your father would enjoy that?”

“Well, he’s also a half-blood,” Draco rolled his eyes. “So there’s that.” 

“Still, an upgrade from a random Muggle,” Harry teased. Draco elbowed him. 

“I just know he’s going to be difficult,” Draco sighed. “I’m the heir and I was supposed to have a more passive role in producing another pureblood heir. Lily is neither pureblood nor the male heir that my father would have wanted. She probably won’t continue the family line.”

“Your family is such a piece of work,” Finnigan said mildly. 

“Tell me about it,” Draco scoffed.

“Well, if he’s complaining about that, tell him we’ll try again when Lily is older,” Harry shrugged, smirking. “Maybe we’ll have a boy then.”

Draco smirked at Harry. “Is that how it is?”

“Yes,” Harry said confidently. “I want at least two. Maybe three.”

“Good to know,” Draco said weakly. “Let’s maybe get the first past age one before we talk about our Quidditch team of children. Healer Goldstein might have called me ‘quite fertile’, but I’m not ready to become Molly Weasley 2.0 just yet.”

“Well, better you than me,” Ginny Weasley grinned cheerfully. 

Harry was chuckling under his breath, enlacing their fingers under the table. Draco squeezed back.

Introducing Lily to the other students in their year was quite an adventure. Not that Lily minded, bless her little heart: She seemed to bloom under all the attention, squealing happily every now and then and grabbing fingers when offered. She didn’t complain when she was reached from arm to arm and Draco forced himself to relax into Harry’s arms and just watch.

“She’s such a little star,” Harry chuckled into Draco’s ear.

“Should have expected nothing else from the daughter of The Boy Who Lived,” Draco shook his head.

“Actually, she reminds me more of you when you were younger,” Harry snorted. “You always held court with the Slytherins. You liked the attention. I hated it.”

“Well,” Draco frowned. “If you put it like that.”

“She’s going to be a mini-you, in the end,” Harry predicted. “I can feel it.”

“She looks like you!” Draco protested. “Hair, skin, eyes!”

“We don’t know about the eyes,” Harry protested. “They will probably still change.” And Draco had to relent that they might. They were currently a blue-green, not quite Harry’s deep green. Draco thought they might turn to it eventually but it was just as possible they might turn blue, like Narcissa’s, or grey, like his. Or maybe even brown, like James Potter’s had been. 

A part of him wanted them to be green, like Harry’s. Another part of him wanted Lily to have inherited at least one of his features. He still didn’t think she’d got his nose.

“I really don’t know how you produced something so adorable, Malfoy,” Thomas shook his head, grinning as Lily grabbed his finger pulled. 

“I’m very adorable, I’ll have you know,” Draco rolled his eyes, snuggling closer to Harry. He could feel Harry swallow his laughter.

“I want a baby,” Parvati Patil sighed, eyeing Longbottom speculatively. Longbottom discreetly shifted away from her. Harry hid his face in his chest to smother his smirk.

“You can’t even keep a goldfish alive,” her sister argued. 

“That’s not the same!” 

“Do you really want to have that argument?”

Harry brushed his fingers through Draco’s hair. Draco looked up to meet his eyes. 

“I think in the very least, we’ve got a lot of babysitters,” he said conspirationally.

Draco chuckled. “I’m not giving Lily to Patil now. She might try to make away with her.”

Harry rolled his eyes but leaned in to kiss him.

“Look, Lily,” Blaise cooed. “Your parents are being disgusting!”

Draco sighed and rolled his eyes.

For all of Narcissa Malfoy’s reluctance when she’d first hurt that her son was pregnant, she positively glowed when she first got to hold her granddaughter. 

“She’s stunning,” she whispered, stroking back her hair. “I’m so glad you didn’t listen to me, darling.”

Harry looked at Draco questioningly but Draco shook his head. ‘Later,’ he mouthed.

“You know,” Narcissa said softly. “When you were first born, your father would hold you for hours. You were a fussy sleeper but Lucius was never deterred. He’d just hold you and talk and talk until you’d calmed down.” She looked up at Draco, her eyes sad. “I wished things hadn’t gone so wrong from that point on. Things were so much simpler when you were still to little to be of much importance in politics.”

Draco couldn’t speak. His chest felt tight. Harry took his hand and squeezed, grounding him. 

“I brought a camera,” his mother said eventually. “I’d like to take a photo of the three of you and bring it to Lucius on my next visit. I think it’s time we tell him.”

Draco just nodded. 

Draco received a letter from his father three weeks later. Draco took two days to open it. 

When he finally did, the content wasn’t what he expected.

‘Dear Draco,

congratulations on the birth of your daughter. 

I am so overwhelmingly happy to hear that you have found your key to happiness, even with all the ways your mother and I have failed you. I cannot apologise to you enough. I can never make up for what we put you through. 

You are a bigger person than I’ll ever be, Draco. And I know you’ll be a wonderful parent. You’ll learn from our mistakes. 

Please pass on my apoligies to Mr Potter, too. I know there is nothing I can say to ever make it right, but I am grateful that he makes you happy and that he’s taking care of you and your child. 

I understand if you and Mr Potter never want me near your daughter once I get out of Azkaban. I don’t deserve forgiveness. But I will make it my mission to seek it. 

I know the Malfoy vaults have been quite depleted through the reparations, but Narcissa and I have talked. We’d like to sell the Manor and for you to have what is left of the funds. You can use the money for you and your new life. From the money the house will bring in, we’d like to set up a new account for Lily and any other children you might have. We’ll live off Narcissa’s Black heritage. It’s more than enough.

I know this won’t make anything right, but I hope it will make your new start at least a little easier. 

With much love,

your father

Lucius Malfoy'

By the time Draco had reached the end of the letter, he was crying. Harry came to sit next to him.

“Was he that harsh?” he asked, his eyes worried and hard, angry.

Draco shook his head. He gave Harry the letter to read for himself. He took a long time, possibly reading it twice. When he gave it back, he looked conflicted.

“I never knew he could be kind,” Harry admitted.

“That’s the man I knew growing up,” Draco said. “Before everything went to shit.”

Harry nodded. “It’s hard to reconcile the image with the Lucius Malfoy I know.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Draco shook his head. “I’m not sure I manage half the time. That’s why it’s so hard.”

Harry nodded, pulling him into his arms. 

“Are you quite sure?” Draco asked his mother in a floocall. “Where will you live?”

“I’m already looking at smaller houses in the area,” Narcissa smiled at him. “The Manor is suffocating, after everything that happened there. I don’t want to do that to myself any longer. And the money will be much better spent on your child, or future children if you want any more.”

“Harry does,” Draco muttered, making his mother smile. “I just - I can’t believe he just accepted it!”

“He cried when I told him,” Narcissa said gently, making Draco gape. “He stared at the picture and cried. He said he was so happy and so relieved that he hadn’t completely destroyed your life. He kept asking questions about Lily, too. He never even mention her blood status.”

“I - I don’t know what to say to that,” Draco blinked. 

“I think the war and his second stay in Azkaban really put things into perspective for him,” his mother smiled. “He’s trying to change.”

“I don’t know how to believe that,” Draco muttered. 

“You don’t need to, just yet,” Narcissa said softly. “Just take your time, darling.”

March

“Draco,” Harry sighed as he held Lily up by the arms as she happily squated up and down, bending and straightening her knees, trying to stand up. “Put that book down, for Merlin’s sake. You’re about to fall asleep sitting up.”

“Just that one chapter,” Draco muttered, turning another page. The letters were blurring in front of his eyes but he blinked, trying to refocus. 

“You can’t possibly absorb any information like that,” Harry grumbled, picking Lily up as she dropped to the ground. 

“I’m already so far behind, Harry,” Draco snapped. “And NEWTs are only two months away now, I can’t keep slacking off -”

“You’re not slacking off,” Harry said, keeping his voice soft for Lily’s sake. “You have a daughter that keeps you awake half the night. You can’t set the same standards for yourself as for other students.”

“But unlike other students, Harry, I’ll end up in Azkaban if I fail the NEWTs, and you’ll have to deal with our daughter alone for the foreseeable future!” Draco hissed.

Lily whimpered, clearly disconcerted by his tone. Draco sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. Harry held her to his chest, soothing her. 

“I think that’s enough studying for you tonight,” he said softly. “Maybe you should take a Calming Draught before bed.”

Draco’s eyes stung but he tried to hold in his tears. He forced himself not to fling the book across the room, for Lily’s sake. Instead, he put it away quietly and went to the bathroom, trying to calm down in privacy. 

He did end up taking the potion before he returned. 

Harry had already put Lily down to sleep, Narcissa’s music box playing softly in the background. He just looked at Draco as the other crossed the room to change into pyjamas. 

“Want to talk about it?” Harry asked.

“What’s there to talk about?” Draco shrugged. “We both know the facts. If I fuck up, I’m gone.”

Draco did not expect Harry’s arms to come around him, holding him to his chest.

“I’m not letting that happen,” he said softly.

“I don’t think you can stop it, Harry,” Draco shook his head. “The terms are very clear. Either I take my NEWTs successfully so I can become a productive member of the Wizarding society, or I go to Azkaban.”

“Well, I’m not sure if you realise, but my name is worth something at the Ministry,” Harry said casually. “I could go talk to Kingsley. Explain the situation. They can’t put you in Azkaban because you had a baby and are struggling to multitask.”

“Harry, you’re the father,” Draco shook his head. “Your word might be worth a lot under normal circumstances, but you’re also biased. They won’t listen to you in this instance. They might even suggest I seduced you just for that result.”

Harry stilled. “I did not think of that,” he admitted.

“Of course you didn’t,” Draco sighed. “You’re too nice. You lack the ability for such a malicious thought process. I don’t.”

Despite Draco’s subtle reminder of his past, Harry’s arms around him tightened.

“I’m not letting them take you from me,” he murmured. “I mean, I’m pretty sure you can pass your NEWTs, because you’re bloody smart, but I don’t want to watch you kill yourself for the next two months, so… Can you maybe drop a subject or something? Like Ancient Runes, maybe?”

“No,” Draco shook his head. “It’s in the terms. I need to take the same exams I would have taken last year.”

Harry cursed under his breath. Draco knew the feeling. 

“I’m not going to let them take you,” Harry said fiercely, tightening his arms around his waist until they were almost suffocating, but Draco didn’t complain. “You’re mine, and they’re not going to take another person away from me. Not over a stupid grade.”

“I agree,” Draco muttered, finding his hands and entwining their fingers. “That’s why I’m trying to study.”

Harry hummed, kissing his neck. “Let’s go to bed,” he said. “We both need sleep.” 

Draco sighed and nodded. 

Lily squealed and proceeded to pull Draco’s fingers into her mouth, chewing on them as the magical swinging chair Hagrid had built for her gently bobbed her. Draco smiled at her before returning his attention to the book in his other hand. Hermione, with her infinite patience, was trying to catch him up on Transfiguration, and Draco’s head was starting to protest. Lily had been clingy all afternoon, refusing to stay with Kreacher or any other house elf, and Harry had taken off after breakfast, probably to see Teddy, though he didn’t specify, so it was just Draco trying to satisfy her plea for attention while also studying. It wasn’t going so well. Weasley had twice offered to take her off his hands, but she had cried off a storm until he had handed her back to Draco.

“Draco?” Hermione said gently. “Are you listening?” 

“Yes,” he said quickly, though honestly, he hadn’t been. She knew it, too, and her look was far too understanding. 

“Maybe we should stop for today?” she suggested. “You are clearly tired.”

“I have to pass these exams, Hermione,” Draco groaned. “If I don’t -”

“I know,” she said. “It’s just -”

The door to their common room opened then and Harry came in, wrapped in his thick winter cloak. He dropped a kiss both to Draco’s and Lily’s heads in greeting. Lily squealed, letting go of Draco’s fingers to reach for Harry’s nose. Harry laughed.

“Hello to you, too!” He said, lifting her out of the chair to hold her close. “I missed you, munchkin!” He frowned as he looked at Draco. “You look tired.”

He glared at Harry but didn’t answer. “Where were you?” he asked instead. “Lily was clingy all day.”

“Sorry,” Harry sighed, sitting down next to him. “I was in London. I needed to check by Grimmauld Place to oversee the renovations.”

Draco blinked. “You’re already renovating?”

“Of course I am!” Harry laughed. “We’re moving in in three months! The house needs to be childproof and comfortable until then.”

“Oh,” Draco nodded. “Right.” He didn’t want to point out that at the rate his studies were going, Harry might have to move in with Lily on his own.

“I also went to the Ministry,” Harry said quietly, stroking Lily’s messy hair. “To see Kingsley.”

Draco looked at Harry sharply. “Harry -”

“I made him aware of what a difficult situation you were in and how unfair it was for the Ministry to expect you to perform perfectly while raising a baby,” he continued. “Kingsley agreed. He said he would have a meeting with some members about the Wizengamot to discuss the terms of your probation. It might be possible to give you some leeway.”

Draco stared at him, incredulous. “He said that?” he asked.

“Yes,” Harry nodded, looking at him. “If it comes from Kingsley, and not me, it’s different, isn’t it?”

“I’m surprised the Minister is willing to put his hand into the fire for someone like me, though,” Draco muttered. “Nobody owes me anything.”

“They owe me, though,” Harry said pointedly. “Also, Kingsley believes in justice. Putting you in jail because you were too busy taking care of your baby to study isn’t justice.”

“Please tell Kingsley if he needs character witnesses for Draco’s behaviour in the last few months, he’ll definitely find them here at Hogwarts,” Hermione piped him. “I’m sure we can find at least two handfuls of people who’d be willing to testify to keep him out of prison.”

Draco stared at her, feeling a bit choked. Then, Lily squirmed in Harry’s arms, kicking out and reaching for Draco.

Draco smiled as he reached for his daughter, kissing her head as he held her close. She sighed and settled against his chest, closing her eyes.

April

Teddy Lupin was sitting in front of Lily’s swinging stool, staring at his cousing with interest. Lily stared back with eyes that were becoming greyer by the day. Teddy tilted his head, and his own dark green hair became black and messy like Lily’s. Draco tried to suppress a laugh.

“Well, they seem to be getting along,” Andromeda said, beaming. 

“Well, as much as children their age can get along,” Draco allowed. “I mean, no one is crying, so that’s promising.”

As if on cue, Teddy turned to look at them. He was waving his chubby little hand in the direction of Lily and called: “Be! Be!”

“Yes!” Harry said encouragingly. “It’s a baby! Good job, Teddy!”

“Soon, he’ll be speaking for real and I won’t be able to shut him up,” Andromeda sighed, turning to Draco with a smile. “He’s already babbling every chance he gets.”
“Well, Lily likes to comment on everything, too,” Draco nodded. “Maybe it’s a family trait?”

In her chair, Lily squealed. They all laughed. Teddy turned back to watch her. 

“I have to say,” Andromeda said, looking at the two of them. “I did not see this happening, but I’m glad it did.” She caught Draco’s eyes and her smile turned a little sad. “We have to cherish the family we have, don’t we?”

“We do,” Draco agreed. “I’m sorry it took so long for us to meet. But maybe we can make this a more frequent arrangement? I’d love for Lily to have a close relationship with you and Teddy.”

“I’d like that, too,” she said. She hesitated before adding: “Please give my regards to Narcissa, too. Tell her I’d love to have her over for tea if she is willing.”

Draco smiled. “I’m sure she’d love that.”

They looked up when Lily squealed again. Teddy had reached his hand out towards her and Lily had grasped his hand, putting his finger in her mouth. 

“Lily,” Harry scolded as Draco muffled a laugh. “Stop putting everything in your mouth!”

“She’s at that age,” Andromeda shook her head. “She’ll learn soon enough that she can’t chew everything. Teddy stopped after he tried to put a whole ginger root in his mouth when I was cooking. It was a good lesson.”

They watched as Teddy tentatively tried to draw his hand back. Lily whined, holding on. Harry sighed, getting up and releasing Teddy, handing Lily her dummy instead. Teddy whiped his hand on Harry’s sweater as he moved.

“You already look s natural with her,” Andromeda smiled, watching him. “Parenthood suits you.”

“Oh, he’s a pro,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. “I’m drowning.”

“That’s not true,” Harry glared at him. “You’re very intuitive. You always know what Lily wants. I always need a few tries.”

“Yeah, but I get overwhelmed,” Draco shrugged. “And I still screw up her diapers.”

“Baby-friendly language, please,” Andromeda scolded. “Teddy is picking up on everything.”

“So you have a few technical difficulties,” Harry shrugged, sitting down next to him again. “You’re busy. That’s why we’re a team. You’ll get used to it with time, and once school is done, you’ll have less stress.”

“How is that going?” Andromeda asked.

“Don’t ask,” Draco groaned. “I really don’t want to think about it right now.”

“He’ll pass,” Harry said confidently. “He’s so smart. He’s just stressing.”

“Well, I’m bowing to you,” Andromeda shook her head. “When Dora was a newborn, I was too tired to even keep the house tidy. I only took care of her and napped when she did. So you’re doing a fantastic job, managing both.”

“Honestly, he’s doing so great,” Harry said earnestly. “I gave up two weeks after Lily was born. I’m just trying to scrape by in the exams. I don’t really care.”

“What about the Aurors?” Andromeda asked. “Weren’t you going to apply?”

“Yeah, no,” Harry shrugged. “I was thinking about it, but I could have done it without my NEWTs. Kingsley offered me a place right away. I refused because I was unsure. Now I sort of just want a break from it all.” He smiled at Andromeda sheepishly. “All I did for my whole life was fight and worry about the fate of the world. Now I just want to be with my family and enjoy my life for a while. I mean, we have the funds. I know it might sound selfish, but -”

“It’s not selfish at all,” Draco said firmly. “You deserve it. If you never wanted to work a day in your life and become a full-time father, I’d fully support it. I can work. So don’t worry about that.” He frowned. “Well, I need to pass those damned NEWTs first.” He smiled sheepishly when Andromeda frowned at him about his language. “Sorry.”

“You will,” Harry smiled. “I’m sure you will.”

Draco received a letter from the Ministry at the end of April. It contained his adjusted probation terms. 

‘Dear Mr Malfoy,’ it read, ‘in the light of the recent birth of your child, the Wizengamot has agreed to adjust the terms of your probation. They have been decided upon as followed:

• You are to accomplish a passing grade of at least A (Acceptable) in at least three of your five subjects

• You are to verifiably apply for work within the wizarding community within six months of your graduation. If your applications haven’t been successful, the Ministry will put you up with an interim position on minimum wage until you can find something permanent.

• You will cooperate with monthly check-ups from the Child Welfare Department at the Ministry of Magic

If you fail to fulfil any of these terms, your prison sentence of fifteen months in Azkaban will become valid.’

As much as Draco was relieved about these new terms - he could do three NEWTs, he would just choose three subjects to focus on, and he wanted to apply for work anyway, so the second condition wasn’t much of a problem - Harry was furious about the third condition. 

“Who do they think they are?!” he snapped, waving the letter around. “Just because you have a history, they think they have any right to interfere with our family?!”

“I think they’re worried I’m raising Lily as my parents raised me,” Draco shrugged. “They want to make sure I’m not.”

“As if I’d ever let that happen!” he called. 

Lily started crying. Draco sighed, picking her up and bouncing her to try and calm her down. 

“Maybe they don’t think we’re going to last,” Draco said softly. “They just want to make sure to cover their bases.”

“Ridiculous,” Harry glowered. “Fine. Let them check in. But if they’re only trying to put any other conditions on our family or take her away from us, I’m going to storm the Ministry!”

May

Draco was sitting on the floor, Lily on her tummy next to him, playing with a Muggle car toy Arthur Weasley had sent as a present. It was charmed to honk and signal when she pressed it and she squealed in delight every time it did. Hermione tried to speak over her, reading her DADA notes for Draco. 

That was when the door opened and Harry came into the common room, his face murderous. He was followed by the Headmistress and a man and a woman in Ministry robes.

“Mr Malfoy,” McGonagall said as she spotted him, smiling absentmindedly as she spotted Lily. “I’m sorry to drop in like this - I’m sure you could use the time to study for your exams -” at that, she glanced at the Ministry workers with some reproach before she continued, “but Miss Pearce and Mr Cox turned up at the castle gates unannounced, demanding to check in on you as in accord to your new probation terms.”

Draco sighed, stroking Lily’s head to ground himself as he got to his feet. “Right,” he said. “Thank you, Headmistress.” He turned to the two Ministry employees behind her, who both looked slightly abashed. “Miss Pearce, Mr Cox, a pleasure to meet you. Please step in. This is our daughter Lily.”

Hearing her name, Lily let out a very distinguished: “Oh.” It made Draco smile. 

“As you can see, she is perfectly healthy and happy,” Harry said through clenched teeth. “And we’re not dressing her up in Death Eater robes or drawing Dark Marks on her arms.”

“Harry,” Hermione hissed, alarmed. 

“What?!” he snapped. “This is ridiculous! I’m one of the parents! Do they really think I’d let him raise our daughter into a pureblood elitist?!”

“Right,” the Headmistress said mildly. “Mr Potter, would you like to come to my office and have a cup of tea with me?”

“No, thanks, Headmistress,” Harry said tightly. 

“I have biscuits, too,” she said pointedly.

“No!” he snapped. “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to leave them to twist Draco’s words and report back lies! Nothing here happens without me watching over it so I can go to Kingsley later and complain about it!” He looked at the Ministry employees pointedly, and indeed, name-dropping the Minister had the desired effect: Their shoulders slumped ever so slightly. 

“I see,” McGonagall sighed. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, then. Miss Pearce, Mr Cox, come find me in my office after you’re done, you can floo back to the Ministry from there.”

With that, she left them to their own devices. Miss Pearce and Mr Cox looked after her wistully as if they hoped she would have stayed.

“Right,” Draco said after an awkward pause. “Please sit down.”

The next half hour was the most bizarre experience in Draco’s life, and he’d lived through a lot of strange things. But watching adult Ministry employees weighing each of their words to Draco with a timid look towards Harry as they interviewed him about Lily and his plans for her was something else entirely. 

They were practically flying out of there as soon as they were done. Harry huffed, picking Lily up and hugging her close. She cooed happily. 

“You know,” Draco smirked. “You can be quite intimidating. It’s entertaining.”

“Shut it,” Harry muttered, kissing Lily’s head.

When it was finally time for the NEWTs, Draco felt out of his mind with nerves. They had agreed to give Lily to Narcissa for the duration of the exam period - Narcissa had already sold the Manor and moved to an old Wizarding residence in Oxfordshire, much smaller but with less gruesome history and less expensive upkeep. Draco felt like he was missing a limp without her there, but he knew it was for the better. At least he could sleep through the night and concentrate on his exams entirely. 

Still, Draco’s worst enemy was his own anxiety. He kept worrying and worrying himself into frenzies until Harry just took his notes away and held him close so he would just breathe.

Draco didn’t know what he would do without Harry, to be quite honest. If he hadn’t ended up in Azkaban, he’d have most probably been a case for the St. Mungo’s Loony Ward. 

But somehow, with Harry’s endless support and Hermione’s notes, he made it through and when the last exam was written, he collapsed into bed and slept for fifteen hours straight. When he woke up, Harry was there with Lily in his arms, smiling at him warmly, and Draco couldn’t help but hold them both and cry just a little.

June

“I cannot believe we’re going to be leaving Hogwarts for good soon,” Harry sighed, looking up at the castle wistfully. 

They were out on the grounds, spread on a blanket near the lake. Lily was rocking in her chair, waving a rattle back and forth, then very delibarately dropping it. Draco sighed and picked it up to hand it back to her. This was the sixth time in ten minutes she had done this. Draco was indulging her because he knew she was exploring their reactions and turning them into a game, but it was getting a bit old.

“Honestly, I’m ready to leave,” Draco admitted. “Even with the studying being over, I need a change of environment. We were mostly stuck in our rooms.”

“I know,” Harry agreed, grimacing. “But Hogwarts was my first real home, and now it was Lily’s, too.”

Draco reached out for Harry’s hand. “We’ll make a better home,” he promised. “One that’s only ours. One with lots of laughter and love.”

Harry smiled, squeezing his hand. “Yes,” he agreed. “We will.”

Lily’s first ride with the Hogwarts Express was an adventure. She really didn’t enjoy the movement of the train. But Hermione soon had her distracted, reading to her from a huge, colourful book, and they all had some peace and quiet.

“I have to admit, I won’t miss that screaming when I get back home,” Weasley said, watching them.

“You’re godfather,” Draco reminded him. “You’re legally obliged to babysit.”

“I know,” he rolled his eyes. “But it will be just a day or two, won’t it? Not the entire time.”

“Mate, you could always go to your room and have some peace,” Harry snorted. “We’ve always had it much worse.”

“Well, I mean, she’s yours,” Weasley shrugged. “I don’t want one for myself right now.” He looked at Hermione with wide eyes. “We don’t, do we?”

“No,” she said firmly. “We don’t.”

Weasley looked so relieved that Draco had to snigger.

At King’s Cross, Molly Weasley was enticed by Lily.

“She is such a beauty,” she cooed as she rocked her back and forth. Lily said “Ba,” and reached for her hair, making her laugh. 

“You officially made life hell for Bill and Fleur,” Weasley said under his breath. “She’ll want grandchildren now.”

Harry tried not to laugh. 

Narcissa, too, was there to greet them at the station, and again she offered to take Lily for a couple of nights. 

“You haven’t had any time to yourself since the birth,” she frowned. “And no, the exams don’t count! You should spend a few nights at your new home by yourself. I insist.”

Draco thought that his mother secretly just wanted some grandma-time, but he wasn’t going to argue. She was also right. Harry and Draco had been doing well since they had worked out their previous issues, but they had mostly existed as co-parents. They hadn’t really had time to figure out how to exist in a relationship without Lily in the picture.

And so, they apparated to Grimmauld Place without their daughter, just the two of them. 

Draco faintly remembered the old Black residence from his childhood. He had been here when he’d been very young before his Aunt Walburga died.

It had looked nothing like this, though.

Now, it looked bright and open and inviting. Harry had clearly drawn inspiration from Hogwarts, Draco thought because the comfy furniture and the colourful pillows looked like they could have been taken right out of the common rooms. But it also looked homey and nice. Draco could see himself at home here. He also recognised some furniture from the Manor; apparently, his mother had given some to Harry before selling the house. It felt oddly comforting to see it.

“Do you like it?” Harry asked nervously.

“I love it,” Draco smiled, entwining their finger. Harry squeezed his hand and pulled him up the stairs.

“Come on,” he said. “I want to show you Lily’s room.”

Their daughter’s room was a masterpiece. Lively paintings of a sky and a forest with animals were covering the floor. As Draco watched, they were moving. The crib and the mobile Luna had given them marked the centre of the room, but the rest of the place was filled with every single gift their classmates had given them. 

Harry embraced Draco from behind, pulling him against his chest.

“Luna painted the walls,” he whispered. “The sky will turn from night to day depending on the time of day.”

“It’s beautiful,” Draco breathed, his chest tight. “Lily will love it.”

“She will,” Harry agreed.

Draco turned in Harry’s arms and kissed Harry deeply. They took their time, just exploring each other’s mouths without anyone demanding anything of them. 

When they pulled up for air, Harry smiled brightly at him, and Draco’s heart soared.

“Hey,” Draco said, nudging Harry’s nose with his. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Harry said, holding him close.

They used their few days of privacy well. Namely, they had a lot of sex - something they hadn’t done since Lily was conceived. But now, they had the time and space to explore each other physically in a way befitting their deep feelings for each other.

They didn’t only spend their time in bed, though, as much as Draco wanted to. They went out and had dinner, on Harry’s insistance - in the Muggle world, to not be recognised, but they did. 

They spent hours in their new garden, drinking wine and just cuddling and talking. 

And when Narcissa finally returned Lily, Draco was ecstatic to see her, but he also felt like he had truly needed this. Like they had mended the space between them completely. 

He knew, of course, they’d need more moments like this. But they had a lot of willing babysitters. They would find the opportunity again.

July

“She’s starting to teeth,” Draco sighed as he came down the stairs, Lily in her arms, sulkily chewing on a teething toy. “We’re going to have our fun for the next couple of weeks -”

He held in, seeing Harry holding two envelopes with a tight look on his face. His heart sank.

“NEWTs?” he breathed. Harry just nodded. Draco held Lily more tightly. She made a soft sound. “Can you read mine?” he asked. “I don’t think I can.”

Harry nodded, putting his own down on the kitchen counter and starting to open Draco’s. Draco could see that his fingers were trembling slightly. As much as Harry was pretending to be calm about this, Draco knew he wasn’t.

Harry was silent as his eyes flew over the parchment. Draco’s anxiety skyrocketed with each moment of silence.

“What is it?” he asked, an edge to his voice.

Harry’s mouth curved into a smile, and Draco forgot how to breathe.

“Four out of five NEWTs,” he said. “You only flunked Ancient Runes.”

Draco closed his eyes. His heart was racing. He'd done it. He wasn’t going to Azkaban. He was going to stay with Harry and Lily. 

“Hey,” Harry said, coming up to wrap his arms around his waist. “I’m so proud of you, Draco. Really.”

Draco thought if he spoke, he was going to cry. Thankfully, the floo in the living room flared up then and Hermione called: “Did you get your results yet?! Did Draco pass?!”

Draco chuckled weakly. Harry kissed his head as Hermione and Weasley burst into the kitchen. 

Draco only had a moment to look at his results when Hermione had tearfully hugged him, Weasley had slapped him on the shoulder and taken Lily off his hands and Harry had kissed him thoroughly. One ‘O’ in Potions, two ‘E’s in DADA and Charms and one ‘A’ in Transfiguration. He could work with that, he decided. 

“What are you going to do with your results?” Hermione asked, smiling at him.

“I was thinking about applying for an apprenticeship or something in a magical repair shop,” Draco shrugged. “I like fixing things, and I’m good at it.”

“I think it would suit you,” she agreed. 

“What about you, mate?” Weasley asked, bouncing Lily. “How many NEWTs did you get?” 

“Shit, I forgot to open mine,” Harry muttered, making everyone laugh. He quickly tore the envelope open and glanced at his results. “Three,” he declared. “An ‘O’ in DADA, two ‘A’ in Charms and Transfiguration.” He shrugged, dropping the paper on the table. “Well, I’m going to be a full-time Dad for now, so I don’t really care.”

Hermione rolled her eyes but Weasley just laughed. Draco smiled as he took Lily from Weasley’s arms, asking her if she was hungry. 

It was only slowly starting to sink in that he was safe now. He had a family and he got to keep it. 

“You know,” Weasley said conversationally. “If Harry wants to be a full-time Dad, you might need to provide a few more kids, Malfoy.”

Draco glared at him. “Not before Lily’s first birthday,” he snapped. “That’s my hard line.”

“I’ll wear him down,” Harry grinned.

“No, you won’t,” Draco protested, making the others laugh. Lily called “Na!”, as if she agreed, though Draco wasn’t sure with who. 

Secretly, Draco knew they would end up having at least one more. And he was looking forward to it. Because his future with Harry was a price he wasn’t sure he deserved, but now that he’d won it he was sure as hell going to enjoy it to its fullest.