FEST FIC: I'd Rather Change Nappies (3/3)

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This was not practice-flying; this was the real thing. Draco is in the air and twenty feet off the ground before he even realises he’d taken off. It’s sheer instinct – a muscle memory from as far back as his early childhood. He leans forward on his broom and circles the stadium, taking a moment to salute the Minister in her box.

It was like being drunk on the best champagne money can buy. It was like fucking on expensive sheets. It was like swallowing fire. It was like nothing else in this world.

They fly like they’ve never flown against each other before – hard and fast and dangerously. When they were close enough, they exchanged body blows, trying to knock each other into a tailspin.

“Fuck, Malfoy! I wouldn’t know you’ve been sick for half a year if you hadn’t told me. You’re playing for keeps.” Racim grins a bloody grin. Draco had already punched him in the mouth. “Too bad it’s not enough.”

“Suck my dick,” Draco replies. It’s not elegant, but it succinctly conveys its sentiment.

“Don’t tempt me; I don’t want to find myself at the wrong end of Harry Potter’s wand.”

Draco stops on a pence piece and soars in a backward circle. Harry. Scorpius. His beautiful little family that he seemed so intent on destroying. He bites the inside of his cheek until he tastes blood.

A Bludger barely misses his head, and Draco goes in search of the Beater responsible. He flies full speed right at him, feinting at the very last second. The Beater clutches the handle of his broom and wobbles to the point where he almost loses control. The crowd screams its approval. They love it when Draco gives in to his uglier instincts.

“Still drinking yourself into an early grave?” he asks as Racim catches up with him on a straightaway.

“Every chance I get.”

“Which is what? Every morning with breakfast?”

Someday, when their professional Quidditch days were over, Draco suspected that he and Racim would be friends. It was a thing among Seekers. They may be fierce rivals, but they were also part of an elite fraternity. No player in any other position knew what it was like to soar into the clouds in search of a shooting star.

“All the better for me,” says Draco, falling into a Wronski Feint.

The day is perfect – sunny, blue skies, cool without being cold. He feels the wind in his face and the dew of the clouds clinging to his hair. Someday he would teach Scorpius to fly and they’d go out together. Soaring over the fields and looking down at the smog of the cities, laughing and free and in love with life – the life that Draco had given him, the life that he’d carved from his own bones and moulded with his own flesh.

He only has an instant to see the enraged face of the Beater he’d challenged before the Bludger hits him in the stomach.


* * * *


He’d returned to consciousness slowly as though he was drifting to the surface of a bottomless sea. All around him were noise and lights and charms and spells. Someone was dabbing his face and throat with a cool wet cloth and someone else was bandaging his abdomen.

Somewhere a baby was screaming.

Draco had opened his eyes and saw the tiniest little person he’d ever seen. He was cradled in a pair of bare arms. He had fine white-blond hair and an angry purple face.

He was the most beautiful thing Draco had ever seen.

“Is he mine?” he’d asked, and someone had said “yes.” He’d held out his arms and suddenly they were full of squirming life. The baby immediately began mouthing at his bare chest, and Draco instinctively knew what he was looking for even though no one had talked to him about wizards being able to breast-feed. His baby was hungry and he had the means of feeding him. It was that simple really.

It’d been awkward at first. Some forward-thinking person had shaved the hair from around his nipples, but they were still too flat and muscled for the baby to get a firm seal. He tried several times, following the patient instructions of the midwife, but it eventually became clear that that he’d have to pinch his nipple and place it inside the toothless little mouth. The baby had been fussy but as soon as he latched on, he was immediately calm. Draco had looked down and watched him suck, his eyes closed with bliss and milk dribbling down his chin.

At last, he’d looked up and realised that there was a roomful of people: the midwife, three Healers, his mother, his aunt . . .

. . . and Harry, who’d leaned down and kissed him deeply, tongue and all. He’d never forget the feeling of those two mouths on him – Scorpius’s and Harry’s. For a brief but brilliantly clear moment, life made complete sense.

“It’s going to be a long time before you can walk,” one of the Healers had said, but Draco hadn’t cared. As long as he could feed his baby, he didn’t really give a shit about anything else. Including his mother, who was bustling around straightening his pillows and brushing his hair back from his face.

“You look positively dreadful, darling,” she’d said, but Draco had seen the tears in her eyes. It was then he’d realised just how afraid they’d all been and how much of a miracle it was for him to be alive and holding his son.

“Don’t worry about changing sides,” the midwife said. “Use one side for one meal and the other for the next. He’ll unlatch on his own when he’s full.”

He was too awed and overwhelmed to feel embarrassed. That would come later, but for that first couple of days, he forgot that he had any particular gender. All he’d known was that he was the sole source of nourishment for this tiny person in his arms. And that was enough.

* * * *


He’s staring into Harry’s eyes. They’re unrealistically green and surrounded by dark – almost girlishly thick – eyelashes. His pupils are dilated with fear, and their combination with his round glasses makes him look owlish. He reaches up to touch Harry’s face and is surprised when the hand is covered with blood and mud and bits of grass.

Is that his hand? He looks for a ring. If it’s his left hand, he’ll see a gold wedding band, and if it’s his right hand, he’ll see the Malfoy crest.

The bloody hand is wearing his father’s, father’s, father’s signet ring.

It’s his then. Why can’t he feel it? Why can’t he feel Harry’s kiss when Harry presses his lips to his palm?

Suddenly, he’s aware of a lot of commotion. Feet and shins are all around him, and occasionally faces appear next to Harry’s. It’s a funny dream because there’s Adrien Racim and Coach Devlin and Bernadette Hamilton and Ava, the team’s mediwitch. Their expressions are nearly as terrified as Harry’s is.

He can feel nothing, but it’s not a natural kind of feeling nothing. It’s heavy and dense and clearly a spell. He tries to speak, but the only thing to leave his mouth is blood.

“For God’s sake, Draco, don’t move! They’re doing everything they can. Sssshhhhh, love. It’s okay.”

But there’s nothing in Harry’s face that confirms his words.

“He’s losing blood too quickly!”

“I know, but we have to make the incision!”

“Thank Merlin, you were here Harry! The fall would’ve killed him in an instant if you hadn’t softened it.”

“It may not be enough ultimately . . . I can hardly feel a heartbeat.”

“I’ll siphon away some of the blood with my wand; it’ll give us a couple minutes . . .”

“He doesn’t have a couple minutes!”

“But it’s the only thing we can do . . . he’ll never make it to St. Mungo’s . . .”

“It’s Healer McKay! Get out of the way!”

“Can you make the incision, Healer? I wasn’t trained to do surgery.”

“Get me my wand! It’s in the left pocket of my robe!”

“Christ. The liver’s ruptured. Someone send their Patronus!”

“I already have.” Harry’s voice is calm and grim.

“Well, someone needs to send another one to the head midwife.”

“A maternity healer? What on earth are you talking about?”

“We can’t do anything until we know if the baby can be saved.”

Baby???

“Baby?” Harry’s face goes blank and very pale.

“Yes, Mr. Potter. I’d just assumed you wouldn’t be surprised. I’m not sure if I’m delivering bad news at a bad time, but it’s true. She looks to be almost 16 weeks along.”

“She?”

Poor Harry.

“He just had our son six weeks ago!”

“Unfortunately, we don’t have time for a lesson on multiple pregnancies in wizards . . .”

“WHY ARE WE WAITING?”

“Because he’s pregnant! We need to know if the baby is going to survive . . .”

“But the longer you wait, the worse his chances of survival!”

“I don’t feel at all comfortable ending a pregnancy without knowing all the facts – or what your husband feels about it . . . .”

“Fuck how he feels about it! Do the surgery now!”

“If we do the surgery, it may kill the foetus.”

Harry begins to cry. Poor Harry. Draco wants to touch him, but he can’t.

“I don’t care,” he sobs. “I don’t fucking care. I want him to live. I don’t care what it takes!”

Pregnant.

Well, Harry isn’t the only one who’s shocked.

“Thank God you’re here, Tildi! We have more than our usual Quidditch injury here.”

“Get everyone out of my way! Except you, McKay. I’ll need you.”

There’s a loud whistle. Coach Devlin is literally pushing back the circle of players and fans.

“Where is she? . . . Ah, yes, there she is.”

“Apparently, he didn’t even know he was pregnant.”

“Well, why should he? I just helped deliver his son less than two months ago.”

“Let go of me now, or so help me, I will . . . !”

“He can stay. Let Harry stay. He may be the one who needs to make the decision.”

“I’ve already made the decision! Save him! No price is too high!”

“Jesus, Harry . . .”

“Devlin! Don’t fucking touch me! This is your fault!”

Harry grabs his hand. “If you can hear me, Draco, forgive me. Please.”

“Put him all the way under. We don’t want him to be able to watch this . . .”

Draco struggles and tries to speak again. He doesn’t know what he wants, but he knows he doesn’t want the baby to die. He squeezes Harry’s hand weakly and looks into his eyes.

Harry looks back.

“His spleen is too damaged; we’ll have to remove it first . . .”

Harry, he says. Don’t let her die.

He knows Harry understands him because he swallows and turns away.

“How could I ever love her as much as I love you?” he asks brokenly.

Draco’s consciousness is fading, but his eyes don’t relent. Save the baby.

Harry’s eyes brim with tears, and he dashes them away with the hand that isn’t clutching Draco’s.

“Fuck you, Draco,” he spits angrily. “I love you.”

Draco’s not sure what he means, but there’s no time to think about it. The world goes grey and then black.


* * * *



The first time he’d felt Scorpius kick, he was certain it was gas and tried to belch. They’d been at the Leaky with Harry’s friends. It was Weasley’s birthday.

“Nice one, Malfoy,” Weasley had said and held up his pint glass in a salute. “And there I was thinking you were too much of a ponce to let one rip.”

“Ron,” said Granger. “He flies marathons. For fun.”

Their conversation had continued, but he hadn’t paid even the slightest bit of attention to it. Instead, he’d fumbled in his gargantuan robes until he could press his palm against his bare belly.

He’d felt the burp-like feeling again, but this time he’d also felt a jab from inside. He’d grabbed Harry’s hand and pressed it against him and watched his questioning expression turn into one of amazement.

“Do you want to leave?” Harry had mouthed at him.

Draco had turned over his hand and traced the word “yes” in his palm.

Harry had immediately glanced at his watch.

“I forgot to mention it,” he’d told his friends, “but we have tickets to a play tonight. Sorry, but we have to dash.”

“How nice,” Granger had said. “Which play?”

“Er.”

Thankfully, Draco had read the arts section of the paper that morning.

“The Talisman of Oromanes.”

“I’ve heard it’s received a number of good reviews.”

“Well, we’ll tell you all about it later,” Harry had said, tugging Draco out of his chair. “Bye! Happy birthday, mate. See you later. Uhm. Yeah. Bye . . .”

“Shut up, Harry. Go and have a good time.”

“Was that a kick?” Harry asked as soon as they’d stepped out of their hearth.

“Either that or some really bad indigestion.”

He’d felt himself grinning from ear to ear.

“Can I feel him again?”

“It’s not like he’s a karate master, Potter.”

“Yet.”

They’d stripped and got into bed even though it was still light outside.

“Sometimes I feel jealous,” Harry said, lying between Draco’s bent thighs and lightly resting his chin on his belly.

“Why? You want to barf all the time and look like Professor Slughorn?”

“You don’t look like Professor Slughorn,” Harry had replied. “I know because I’ve got a raging hard-on right now, and I would never ever under any circumstances get hard for Slughorn.” He shuddered melodramatically. “But seriously, I do get jealous sometimes.”

Draco had reached down and run his fingers through Harry’s thick dark hair. He didn’t respond because he’d realised that if he was Harry, he’d be jealous too. Yes, he was an Erumpent who had to drink non-alcoholic cocktails, but he had a baby growing inside of him. Sometimes, if he lay very still and quiet in the hours just before dawn, he knew he could feel a tiny heartbeat fluttering like a moth.

In all his life, he’d never felt so helplessly in love. It was terrifying.

“Well, you could’ve been the one who got pregnant,” he’d said.

Harry had shuddered again, but this time not playfully.

“You know how I feel about my bum.”

Draco had laughed. “This has stopped being about bums a long, long time ago.”

“Speaking of bums . . .”

They’d made love with Draco on his knees. Harry was slow and tender, but nonetheless it was obvious that he was perturbing the baby because he began kicking again.

Suddenly Harry froze.

“I felt him,” he’d whispered.

Draco had looked over his shoulder at him.

“Are you trying to tell me you just poked our son with your dick?”

Harry nodded his head. He’d looked awed and even humbled.

“You have a baby inside you.”

Draco would’ve laughed, but Harry clearly hadn’t meant what he’d said to be humorous. Instead, he’d pulled back and thrust in deeply a couple more times and then came with a rough visceral sort of groan. His orgasm seemed to go on forever.

He’d made Draco come with his mouth. Afterward they’d lain together quietly watching the sun set through their window. Draco was on his side, and Harry was curled around his back with his arm around Draco’s middle.

“I think it’ll be okay,” Harry had whispered against Draco’s neck.

Draco had been dozing, and it’d taken a few seconds before he’d really heard what Harry had said.

“What’ll be okay?” he’d asked.

“Us,” Harry replied. “Even though I’ll never again be the person you love most in your life.”

Draco had wanted to respond with something light-hearted and nonchalant, but there’d been something about Harry’s voice that stopped him. He was about to say that it wasn’t true; that Harry would always be the one true love of his life, but then he’d remembered that tentative heartbeat next to his.

He’d shifted so he could cover Harry’s hand with his.

“You will always be the father of the one person I love most in my life. And that’s saying something.”

Harry kissed his neck and made him shiver deeper into his embrace and they’d lain quietly until it was dark.

It was only much later when Harry got up to use the toilet that he’d felt the wetness on his neck and in his hair and realised Harry had been crying.


* * * *


The baby that Harry is holding this time is so tiny that she fits in one of his hands. She’s wearing a tiny knit cap, and there are strong spells surrounding her. Draco can see them; they look like the iridescent colours on a soap bubble.

He reaches for her, but he can’t raise his arms.

Harry must see the panic in his face.

“It’s alright, Draco. It’s okay. You’re not paralysed. You’ve been in a spell-induced coma for nearly three months. You have almost no muscle tone because you’ve been prevented from moving. Your strength will come back.”

“How old?” It takes a phenomenal amount of energy just to speak.

“She’s 30 weeks. The Healers delivered her three weeks ago.”

“Can you put her on me?”

Harry gently places the baby on his chest. He can’t lift his head to get a proper look at her, but he can feel warmth and tiny movements.

He feels his heart bloom open in the same way it had for Scorpius, and he smiles up at Harry.

Harry turns away, but returns in a couple minutes with a big baby in his arms. Scorpius seems to be trying to eat his hand and there’s drool covering his chin. He grins toothlessly and reaches out when he sees Draco. His hair is thin but it covers his whole head.

“I think he’s started teething,” Harry says. “He’s been putting things in his mouth lately. Even more than usual.”

Draco stares at the baby in Harry’s arms. He seems enormous compared to his sister.

“You’d better not be giving him Muggle formula.”

Harry shakes his head. “We’ve had him on a potion that is almost identical to breast milk. Don’t worry. I haven’t permanently scarred him with my incompetence.”

Draco frowns. Harry’s voice is rueful. He looks away when Draco tries to meet his gaze.

“Can she feed?”

“Not yet. She doesn’t have enough strength. But she will before too long.”

“Harry . . .”

Harry closes his eyes and swallows.

“It’s okay,” he says.

Clearly, it’s not. He fights the haze in his mind, trying to remember . . .

“When can I go home?”

“Soon.”

His mother sweeps into the room.

“Darling,” she says softly. “I heard you were awake. How are you feeling?”

Draco just looks at her.

“Of course,” she says. “You feel awful.”

He gives her a questioning look.

“Mother’s instinct,” she says. “You can’t feel an emotion that I can’t read.”

He closes his eyes when he feels the tiny baby squirm on his chest.

“Draco, darling, open your eyes.”

He does. Harry’s no longer in the room.

“You’ve haven’t lost him completely yet.”

“What did I do? I can’t remember.”

“I don’t know. That’s something you’ll need to find out.”

“I’ve been cruel.”

His mother shrugs. “Like I said, that’s something you’ll need to figure out.” She pauses and traces an elegant finger from the tiny baby’s forehead to her toes. “You give birth to beautiful babies,” she says. “And Harry’s half the reason why. Why are you treating him like an intruder when he should be your partner?”

Draco closes his eyes. He doesn’t have a good answer to her question.

* * * *

When he returns to his flat, leaning on his aunt’s shoulder as he steps from the Floo, he can sense Harry’s not there.

He must be out shopping for groceries.

His mother emerges from the Floo a moment later with Scorpius in her arms and goes to the kitchen.

“Darling, would you like a cup of tea?”

Draco nods. He’s strong enough now to stand and move his arms, but it was still difficult to walk. She brings the cup and saucer to him.

“I’m going upstairs to change,” his aunt says.

Draco swallows. His throat is suddenly tight.

“Where’s Harry?” he asks.

His mother looks down at her hands, and his aunt presses her lips together in a thin line.

“Why are you sleeping in the guest room?” he asks his aunt.

“Draco, love, you’re tired. Let me help you upstairs.”

He stands and takes the arm she offers him. He moves as though he’s in a trance. What has he done? Where was Harry?

His question is answered the moment he steps into their bedroom. Harry’s dresser is gone and in its place is Scorpius’s cot.

“Christ! What have I done?”

“Darling . . .”

“Don’t ‘darling’ me! Where is Harry?”

The bed is made. There are no signs of a head resting on the pillow on Harry’s side. His nightstand is empty. No stupid Quidditch magazines and half-empty teacups.

His mother hands him Scorpius, and Draco buries his face against him. He weighs so much.

“Where is he?” he asks without looking up.

“Just a block away; he’s renting a little flat. Don’t worry. He’ll be here to pick up Scorpius tomorrow morning.”

He can’t breathe. He can’t even think. “I kicked him out, didn’t I?”

“It would look that way,” said his aunt. “He won’t talk to us about it.”

God! What had he done?

“Go take a bath,” his mother says gently. “I’ll give Scorpius his dinner.”

She helps him out of the bedroom and down the hall to the bathroom. She points her wand at the tap and water began filling the bath. The shelf is empty save for a toothbrush and toothpaste and a bar of soap.

Harry had clearly decided to be cruel right back. He’d taken everything. Even the mundane stupid things.

His mother leaves the room, and slowly he undresses. His skin isn’t just pale, it’s slightly grey coloured, and flaps of flesh drape from his arms, making the tattoos they’d given him in Azkaban look stretched. Worse of all, he still had the weight he’d gained with Scorpius. He’d thought maybe it’d been due entirely to his other pregnancy, but it clearly didn’t. He looked worse than horrible.

No wonder Harry had left without a fight.

He stepped into the tub and slipped down under the water, his eyes level with the surface. What had he done? What could he have been thinking?


* * * *


He hadn’t even had the excuse of being drunk. He’d only had two pints when he followed Harry into the gents and pushed him up against the wall and kissed him. It’d got to a point where he hadn’t even cared about Harry’s response. All he’d known was he’d had to feel Harry’s mouth against his own or die. He’d sacrificed their tentative friendship for a taste of cheese and onion crisps and cheap lager on Harry’s lips.

He hadn’t been able to take it any longer. His whole body craved a mere moment of contact. He’d pressed his groin against Harry’s groin and his chest against Harry’s chest. There’d been no way Harry could’ve thought it was a drunken joke. Draco had been shaking with need.

Harry had locked the door with a whisper and devoured Draco’s mouth as though he, too, had been starving for a kiss. His hands were suddenly in Draco’s hair, holding him close.

“Your flat,” he’d said, his voice scratchy and raw, and in mere seconds, they’d been on the rug in front of Draco’s hearth, frotting against each other as though they’d been actually fucking. Draco had lain on his back and opened his thighs for Harry’s hips. He’d never wanted anyone to fuck him before. It’d had been as strange and unlikely a thing as having Harry Potter in his arms and between his legs. He wanted to be fucked. Hard. Unmercifully. He’d wanted to be split open.

They hadn’t been able to get out of their jeans that night before they both had come. Draco found he couldn’t bear to be separated even for the brief time it would have taken for them to undress. His orgasm had built slowly and hung on the crest for an agonising minute. “Fuck me,” he’d urged Harry. He’d needed Harry inside him. Not wanted, needed. But his words had made Harry come, and Harry coming had made him come.

Harry had spent the night. There’d been no question about throwing him out as he’d done with the others. Harry’s dark hair against the white pillow; his eyes closed in sleep; his hand curled under his chin. How had Draco lived without this?


* * * *


He’s sitting on the sofa with Scorpius on his lap when Harry arrives. Their eyes meet briefly before Harry looks away.

“Why did I do it?”

Harry looks back, surprised.

“Why did you do what?”

He hasn’t even removed his coat. There is rain in his hair. Draco chokes on the familiarity of it all, and he doesn’t trust himself to speak for a moment.

“Why’d I tell you to go?”

Harry retrieved Scorpius from his lap, and Draco let him though it was one of the hardest things he’d ever done.

“You didn’t want me anymore. And I kissed someone. Another man. You don’t remember?”

Draco shakes his head. How could he have ever made Harry believe he didn’t want him?

Harry rests Scorpius on his hip with an ease that spoke of experience. He looks tired.

“Why the fuck did you listen to me, you arsehole? I was half insane with hormones. Had it been that easy to leave?”

Harry finds Scorpius’s hat and puts it on, although it takes several attempts to keep it there; Scorpius kept pulling it off and flinging it. Finally Harry had to use a sticking charm.

“I’m not going to let you blame this on me,” he says without looking at Draco. “Are you going to go to St. Mungo’s today to see our daughter . . . ?

“You haven’t named her yet?” Draco says indignantly. “God, Potter. She’s three weeks old!”

“I wasn’t going to choose a name without you,” he replies and turns to leave.

“Potter!”

Harry stops but doesn’t turn around. “You broke my heart,” he says.

“Well, you were clearly stupid enough to let me break it!” Draco yells at his back.

Harry laughs mirthlessly.

“It never stops being my fault, does it?”

“You were the one who wanted children, not me!”

God, what is he doing? Why can’t he shut his mouth?

“Well, I’m sorry,” Harry says. “I’m leaving now, Draco. I’ll be at home if you need me.”

His use of the word “home” to describe his stupid flat breaks Draco’s heart.

“Is the place even fit for children?” he snaps.

Harry doesn’t respond. He simply opens the door and leaves.

* * * *

The tiny girl can barely open her eyes, but it doesn’t matter. He can see them clearly – they’re that green. The little bit of hair she has is dark and very soft. He strokes it with the tips of his fingers while she stares at him. He’s sure he’s imagining it, but her eyes feel accusatory: I deserve a family, they say. Stop fucking everything up.

Since waking, he’d learned from the midwife that sometimes wizards can have concurrent single pregnancies. If the parents have unprotected sex during one pregnancy, they can conceive again. It wasn’t that uncommon, actually. It all depended on the concentration of the original potion in the bloodstream.

“Thanks for the heads-up on that,” he’d said ruefully.

As he sits with his daughter surrounded by harsh spells designed to preserve lives that had begun too soon, he wracked his brain to recall when she might’ve been conceived, and at last settled on the night he and Harry had made love for the last time before Scorpius was born. The odd sensation he’d felt when Harry came hadn’t been a result of hurting Scorpius; it had been the result of another conception . . .

Goddamn Harry and his Super Sperm

“You’re sure there’s no more,” he’d said pleadingly, and the midwife had laughed.

He’d failed to see the humour. It seemed an entirely reasonable question under the circumstances.

“Go ahead,” says a nurse who’d moved so quietly that he appeared to materialise out of thin air. “Pick her up. She’s not strong enough to go home yet, but she’s strong enough to be held. In fact, she needs to be held. She misses the warmth of your body.”

With the nurse’s help, Draco scoops her up with trembling hands. She’s so tiny and fragile! Compared to her, Scorpius seemed like a strapping beast.

If he’d been crazy and protective of Scorpius, how was he going to be with her . . . ?

“Finally done with the ‘food poisoning’?”

Draco looks up and sees his coach with a nurse’s mask on his face. His ginger moustache bristles out at the edges as though a small animal is trying to escape.

He winces. “Uhm, yeah. I think so . . . I mean I hope so.”

Coach Devlin leans over his shoulder to look at the baby in Draco’s arms.

“Why in nine blazing hells didn’t you tell me, Malfoy? Are you really that unconvinced of your masculinity?”

Draco frowns and focuses all of his attention on straightening his daughter’s little cap.

“I was bloody pregnant,” he snaps. “It’s difficult to feel manly while you’re pregnant. Take my word for it.”

“If the little bit I’ve read on wizard pregnancies is right, you’ve accomplished the near-impossible. Twice now. And survived an injury that few would have the strength to survive . . .”

Draco rolls his eyes. Devlin pulls over a chair and sits down beside him.

“I remember the day I met you . . .”

“Bloody hell,” Draco groans. “Are we going to have the equivalent of a pre-match pep talk? Because if so, then spare . . .”

“Shut up, Malfoy. That’s your coach’s order.”

Draco closes his mouth but he’s still glaring, just like his daughter had been glaring at him.

“When I realised that one of the recruits I’d chosen for the team was a Marked Death Eater, I nearly tore the clubhouse apart with my bare fists. My brother had died in the War, and I was not willing to forgive and forget. When I confronted you with my knowledge, you took a deep breath and looked me in the eyes. Everything in your expression said ‘go on, curse me!’ And it was that bare uncompromising gaze that made me pause. You were so young, and I could tell by your tattoos that you’d done a significant sentence in Azkaban, but you weren’t apologetic . . .”

“. . . I . . . that’s not entirely true . . .”

“Shut up, Malfoy, I’m not done talking. As I was standing there thinking about what to do, I heard my brother’s voice saying, ‘give him a chance.’ I didn’t want to, but I did anyway, and it’s the best choice I’ve ever made – as a coach and as a person. You worked harder than any player I’ve ever had, and you never covered up that fucking Mark. You just took the beatings it earned you and moved on. The team went from the edge of mutiny to adoring you. You’re tough, Malfoy. There aren’t a lot of men who will take a punch or a hex and not fight back. And then when I heard you’d defected . . . . I heard it from someone else and was shocked that you hadn’t told me yourself. From the very beginning, you could’ve said ‘. . . but, coach, I defected and fought for the Order,’ and my feelings about you would’ve been very different. But you never said anything. You just took the shite and pushed past it. You insisted on being judged as you are, not as you were, good and bad . . .”

The baby squishes up her tiny face and starts to cry. It’s the saddest, most wrenching sound Draco’s ever heard. It’s clear she’s putting all her strength into it, but it just comes out as a feeble little sound. Without even pausing to think, Draco unbuttons his shirt and cuddles her against his bare chest. She’s so small, he can cover her whole body with one hand. He murmurs against her ear and kisses the top of her head. When he looks up, he’s surprised to see his coach still there and blushes hotly.

“Uhm, sorry,” he says. “What were you saying?”

Coach Devlin smiles and stands up. He places a hand on Draco’s shoulder and squeezes. “Stop being ashamed,” he says after a minute. “Of everything.”

He walks to the door but stops before he leaves. “Oh, and I want your arse in shape for the World Cup,” he says. “No more of this ‘but I just gave birth’ shite.’”

Draco grins. Devlin hadn’t seen anything yet.





“Lily.”

Harry jumps when Draco steps out of his hearth.

“Bloody hell, Draco! You fucking scared me!”

“Lily,” Draco replies. “I want to name her ‘Lily.’”

Harry stares at him. He looks like he’s waiting for another shoe to drop.

“Why?”

Draco can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“Because it’s a pretty name. And it was your mother’s, you stupid arse.”

Harry scratches the back of his neck in an irritated gesture.

“I thought we were going to talk about this . . .”

“Well, we’re talking about it. I want to call her Lily. What do you want to call her?”

Harry glares at him. “Lily,” he says combatively.

Draco gives him a look that suggested Harry might be insane.

“Then we agree.”

“Your mum’s not going to be happy. Don’t you want to name her ‘Frejya’ or something? She’s been scouring her books on Norse Mythology . . .”

“I don’t bloody care what my mother’s been doing. She’s our daughter, and I want to name her Lily. Why are we arguing if we both agree? Oh, and by the way, where’s Scorpius?”

“Don’t worry; I haven’t killed him or sold him to gypsies. He’s napping.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest you killed him . . . .”

Harry turns and walks away.

“Potter! For fuck sake! Don’t be such a bloody moron!”

Harry stops but he doesn’t turn around. “Scorpius’s things are all packed, and I changed his nappy before he went to sleep. I’m going to the hospital now. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Harry is disappearing down the hall of his stupid flat. He’s dressed in old ripped jeans and a t-shirt of uncertain and unflattering colour. His hair doesn’t look like it’s been brushed properly in weeks, and he looks like he’s lost weight.

“I’ll have Scorpius ready in a min . . .”

“Where’s the stupid bedroom in this stupid flat?” Draco spits.

Harry turns with a scowl.

“Why? Do you want to cast a revealing spell on the bed to see who’s been in it?”

Draco is sure he looks as blood-thirsty as Harry does. He pulls off his cloak and throws it on the floor.

“Yes,” he says. “But only after I’ve been in it.”

He takes his wand from the pocket of his robe and places it on the coffee table, making it clear with his gaze that Harry should do the same. And then he starts unbuttoning his shirt.

Harry’s expression is impossible to read, and it takes all that Draco has not to look away and stop undressing. His heart pounds uncomfortably and his breathing is too shallow. He’d frankly rather die than do what he’s about to do.

Harry swallows both visibly and audibly.

“The bedroom’s down this way,” he says.

He turns and Draco follows him into the unremarkable room with its unmade bed and dirty laundry on the floor. Draco’s about to make a quip about how Harry’s lover must be just as slovenly as he is, but he bites his tongue. He remembers the reproach he’d imagined in Lily’s eyes.

“Lie back,” Draco demands, and Harry complies suspiciously. “And make yourself comfortable for the most disgusting striptease you’ve ever had.”

Draco can’t look at Harry’s face. If he does, then he’ll lose the tiny bit of courage he’s conjured for this moment. The slightest sign of revulsion would crush him, and he’d say something truly awful, and then Harry really would be gone, and his children would never forgive him. He’d never forgive himself.

“Get ready to have the oh-so lovely experience of having someone try to turn you on while your dick is limper than an overcooked piece of spaghetti. I’m sure you’ll remember how much I enjoyed it.”

Harry doesn’t say anything, and Draco doesn’t look at him, but all the while he’s undoing clasps and unbuttoning buttons and stripping off each layer of protection. He doesn’t need to see his reflection in the mirror above the chest of drawers; he already knows what he looks like. Loose flab where once had all been muscle. And a belly as plump and soft as marshmallow.

His ears strain for any sound from Harry. He expects the sharp intake of breath he hears, and grits his teeth. He expects the sound of the bed creaking when Harry moves.

But he doesn’t expect the sound of a belt buckle being opened and jeans being unzipped, or the unmistakable sound of wanking.

“You’d better not be taking the piss, Potter,” he says and is horrified by the tremor in his voice.

“Shut up,” Harry replies breathily. “C’mere.”

Draco still has his eyes squeezed shut as he crawls onto the bed. A walrus climbing onto a rock would probably be a flattering comparison.

Before he has the chance to settle into a comfortable position, Harry grabs his hand and places it on his cock. It’s been awhile, and Draco is amazed by the heat. He gives it a couple firm strokes, and Harry groans.

“God,” he says. “I want to fuck you.”

His words go straight to Draco’s groin, and he feels his own cock swell and stiffen. He resumes stroking Harry and is rewarded with warm slick dribble of precome. Harry groans again.

“Careful. I’m not going to last long, and I want to come inside you. Lie down.”

Draco does as he’s told, and feels his body jiggle and sway slightly as he adjusts himself among the tangled sheets. He swallows a mouthful of humiliation, and feels his cock soften. Harry seems not to notice as he starts kissing every last disgusting inch of his body – not just little pecks of kisses, but open-mouthed hungry kisses that leave cooling spit behind.

“God, you’re beautiful.”

Draco covers his still-closed eyes with his hands and shakes his head. “Don’t bloody patronise me.”

Harry snarls and suddenly straddles Draco’s hips. He hears a steady wet slapping sound, and knows Harry is wanking.

“Open your eyes,” he says almost unkindly.

It takes awhile, but Draco removes his arm and slowly opens his eyes. The first thing he sees is Harry’s hand pumping his cock. The tip is purple, and Harry grunts with the exertion. He’s not looking at Draco’s eyes; he’s looking at Draco’s body.

When he comes, Harry holds his cock steady as he paints Draco’s belly with semen. He makes no attempt to make it neat and pretty, but lets himself go, thrusting into his hand. Before his come can cool, he coats his fingers, reaches around his back and begins stroking Draco’s cock with long slick strokes. The sensation of being touched with such clearly unfeigned hunger turns him on, and he loses his self-consciousness long enough to thrust ineptly into Harry’s hand.

“Don’t you dare come,” Harry says, his voice raw. “I want you halfway down my throat first.”

He dismounts Draco’s hips and slides down between his legs, and before Draco has a chance to feel ashamed again, Harry takes his cock in his mouth and swiftly begins moving his head up and down. His pace is brutal, and Draco feels his belly coil with an orgasm that Harry then rips from his body mercilessly.

As Draco’s breathing and heart rate slowly return to normal, Harry rises onto his knees and massages the rest of his come into Draco’s skin. Draco can feel the fat move with his hands, and he squeezes his eyes shut again.

“I’m hideous,” he says. “How can you bear to look at me?”

“I’m not even going to dignify that question with a serious answer,” Harry replies, leaning forward to effectively shut his mouth with a kiss. “What I couldn’t bear was not being able to look at you,” he said into the space of a breath.

Harry laps at his tongue, and kisses Draco so deeply, he’s forced to shove Harry away to catch a breath.

“Wrap your legs around me,” Harry manages to say, and Draco does. It’s not as easy and comfortable as it used to be, but Harry lets himself relax, settling on top of him with his full weight.

“Mmmmm,” he hums with feigned sleepiness. “You’re so soft.”

“Fuck you, Potter. Don’t get used to it.”

They lie still for awhile, letting their bodies speak for them. Harry’s body is languid and heavy, and he breathes against Draco’s neck making him shiver. His hands wander ceaselessly, caressing every bit of skin he can reach. Draco feels himself grow hard again.

“I almost lost you,” Harry murmurs between kisses. “We almost lost you. I was so scared.”

“Finally,” Draco replies. “I managed to scare Harry Potter.”

Harry shakes his head causing his hair to tickle Draco’s nose. “I’m not joking, Draco. I don’t know what I would have done.”

Draco pulls him closer and runs his hands down the length of his back.

“When will you break the lease on this stupid flat?”

Harry is silent for too long. Draco had expected a quick answer somewhere along the lines of “tomorrow.”

“Potter, this is ridiculous. Plus this flat is ghastly. Windows facing north? It’s like cave.”

“Is this your round-about way of saying you want me back?”

Rather than have the admission wrung out of him, Draco hurumphs and distracts Harry but rolling his hips beneath him.

“Mmmm,” Harry murmurs and presses down so they move together like a wave. “You’re like my own personalised water bed. I think I’m going to keep stuffing you with treats.

“Shut up!” Draco growls and spreads his legs. He can feel Harry searching with his cock for entrance.

“I’m going to come before I’m even inside you,” Harry says. “God, you feel so good.” He reaches down to slip both arms beneath Draco’s knees, and pulls his thighs towards his chest, while almost simultaneously, he finally finds Draco’s opening and sinks in with a groan of sheer pleasure. He thrusts, and Draco feels it in a way he hadn’t when he was thin. An even fuller way. He starts to come and grabs Harry’s hips to still him.

“I’m not ready yet,” he gasps. “Go slower.”

Harry thrusts again, but this time he stays fully sheathed and sinks down, using his weight and the pliability of Draco’s body to reach places he’s never been able to reach before.

“I like you like this.”

Draco shakes his head. “I don’t, so it won’t last. Enjoy it while you can.”

Harry takes a deep breath and pulls out to the head of his cock. “I plan to enjoy it all night and tomorrow night and . . .” His voice breaks when he thrusts back in, going even deeper than before. In and out, he sets the rhythm, and Draco’s body responds.

He’s almost forgotten how it feels to be fucked to orgasm. It’s been a long time. But he remembers the slow but steady increase in pressure, and the way Harry’s every move stokes it. He can feel each long deep thrust and hear Harry’s helpless whimpers. All of it combines and fills his belly and hips as though his body was a bowl on the very edge of overflowing.

Harry’s eyes are the only thing that lets him know Harry is about to come. They’re wide and stunned-looking as though every time he comes inside Draco is the first time. He always seems caught by surprise by his own orgasm, as though it was a sweet, unexpected punch to the stomach.

Draco watches him, enthralled. This was the same expression that had been the start of their children’s lives – this erotic shock that shook Harry’s whole body and left him gasping for breath. He grabs Draco and pulls him as close as he can as he thrusts one, two, three more times to empty himself. The sheer animal closeness and the gutted sound Harry makes wrings free Draco’s own climax, and they rock together, far from the shore, straining and then relaxing and then finally releasing and separating.

They lay together, their sweat cooling and their fingers loosely linked.

He had something he needed to say. That he should’ve said a long time ago, but then Scorpius starts to cry. On instinct, both of them tense and get ready to leap from the bed to go to him, but at the last instant, Draco restrains himself.

“Go to him,” he says.

Harry waits only long enough to give Draco a questioning look before he gets up and yanks on a pair of pants. He’s just beyond the threshold when Draco calls after him. He watches Harry’s body tense and then relax just as quickly when Draco says “I love you, Potter, and by the way? The person who gets up first changes the nappies.”

Harry grins and then disappears in the direction of his son’s cries.

Draco smirks. Harry looked far too happy for a person who’s going to be spending the next three years of his life wiping baby bums.


fin.

Comments

[okydoky.livejournal.com]

lk;ndwvlkf I love this. Seriously, adored! I'm so glad you gave them their happy ending, although I can imagine things will always be a little rocky for them! I loved the Quidditch, and Harry being so lost and Draco hating his body and YES. THIS. ♥

[cassie-black12.livejournal.com]

I really loved this story. Especially how you managed to make both their viewpoints sympathetic - even when Draco was being a complete arse to Harry I still felt for him. And the happy ending was ♥

[lisacreature.livejournal.com]

This was really good! (I skipped the switching scene) I really wanted to hit Harry and Draco and shout "GET BACK TOGETHER!" lol =)

[reikokatsura.livejournal.com]

This was an absolute delight to read! Even though I wanted to slap sense into Draco I also couldn't help but sympathize with him. So kudos to you for making that possible.

Guh. So awesome. I loved adored both Narcissa and Andromeda, as well, and thoroughly enjoyed the scenes with them in it. This was such a great read.

BTW, the switching scene was awesome.

Thanks for this!

[denise0949.livejournal.com]

This was wonderful! I've never felt so many emotions jumping off a page in my life. You touched base on alot of things that happen before, during, and after pregnancy. It's not always easy to lose that baby fat, it's not always sweet to make love to your spouse when your not even turned on, or going back to work and all you can think about is your baby. I enjoyed this so much. I love how you portrayed both Harry and Draco. This was a good mpreg! Oh so happy for the happy ending! Love this, love you.

[euphory.livejournal.com]

wow, i think i'm kinda scared of pregnancy now... JUST KIDDING!!
i love how you made Draco and Harry both sympathetic, and the coach, the other athletes and Narcissa and Andromenda are great too!

[plotting-pen.livejournal.com]

I absolutely ADORED everything about this fic. EVERYTHING. I felt SOOO bad for Harry. I bawled like a baby when I read the scene where Draco woke up with his neck wet with Harry's tears. When Draco's Harry's whole world, it is devastating to know that Draco won't feel the same anymore. Harry's emotions are so palpable, even if the story is told in Draco's POV, and that's incredible to me. Oh gosh, that scene took my heart and broke it into pieces (and many others), but then the ending put it back, so I'm not complaining ;)

There's so much more about this fic I love, Draco's crazy mood swings - oh boy, definitely scared me off of pregnancy for life - the multiple sex scenes (yum!), their love practically radiated off the pages, and how they interacted. And to see how much hurt they put each other through just convinced me even more of how much love they felt for one another. Gorgeous. Words cannot describe. I read this in the dark until the break of dawn with tears running down my face like a baby. You truly have a way with words. You are. Wow.

♥ ♥ ♥

[ran26.livejournal.com]

I love it... Fantastic job...

[kitschobrien.livejournal.com]

This story really resonates with me. For one thing, Draco's disgust with his body is the same way I feel about pregnancy. I can't imagine losing my body for it. I feel like I'd be out of control pretty much the same way he was. It's selfish but it's real and gritty. You portrayed it so well. I was very sceptical of this prompt, not gonna lie. But you did an excellent job. I loved the complexity, the characterisation... just everything! I actually *felt* Draco being hit in the stomach, and I cried when he finally told Harry he loved him through a mouthful of blood.

Beautiful work! I think this is one of the most convincing Mpreg fics I've ever read. Not usually a fan, but this made it more than tolerable.

[groolover.livejournal.com]

You had me worried for a while there, so I'm glad you got them back how they should be by the end!

[lilyginny27.livejournal.com]

Very happy there was a happy ending in this. My heart was just breaking for Harry repeatedly, and the shifting of time periods for Draco only made my heart break a little for him (which I really didn't want it to do).

Good job. :')

[clear-stream18.livejournal.com]

This was a completely wonderful and beautiful story. I love the way you organized it, going from past to present. I love the development of Harry and Draco's relationship. I love that it's from Draco's perspective. But I think what I love the most is Draco himself. He is so insecure and so human. I so enjoyed reading this.

[nursedarry.livejournal.com]

Mpreg, Quidditch, & switching... ♥ you hugely!

And thank you for the happy ending!

[littlemslondon.livejournal.com]

I don't know who you are, but when I find out I'm going to read everything you've written! :p
This was mind blowing, really. I was hooked from the very beginning and your Harry and Draco are so incredibly Harry and Draco. Especially after having read so many superficial mpreg fics, it's really nice to see one that has real depth and more than a touch of reality.

Fantastic fic!

[likeasongsong.livejournal.com]

Thank you for writing such a wonderful piece! This is so real, heartfelt, and warm!

[ura-hd.livejournal.com]

I love this story! You managed to create a world of simple and yet very complicated relationships between Draco and Harry based on great love and yet some insecurities. It was heart-aching to read about the boys hurting each other despite obviously loving each other so much. I am so very happy that they managed to get through their "dark times".

You have an original take on mpreg. I have not seen stories yet that address emotional difficulties of parenthood and their effect on a marriage. I am glad that your Harry and Draco eventually managed to overcome these difficulties.

I really liked Draco's flashbacks. They added extra layers and emotions to the story. I loved how romantic Harry's and Draco's relationships were. I loved how Draco knew when he got pregnant.

I liked Draco's coach. He seemed pretty cool. And even the rival Seeker was interesting. Narcissa and Andromeda were quite entertaining.

But most of all I loved your Harry and Draco and the obvious and strong love between them.

Wonderful, wonderful story!!!

[tarajw.livejournal.com]

God this broke my heart. I loved it.

[aquila-star.livejournal.com]

This was absolutely amazing. The emotions were so real, trust me, I'm 37 weeks pregnant with our third...I know what Draco was going through. You tweaked it all from the male perspective and made it so genuine, my heart must have broke a dozen times reading this. But I could still feel the love they have for each other. And the tiny touch of top!Draco was perfectly fitting in the fic.

Fabulous...this is one to save and read again. :D

[monster-o-love.livejournal.com]

This is such an incredible story!!! I'm just in awe. So much raw emotion pouring out. Fantastic storytelling, I loved the glimpses into their past together and why all of these insecurities between them become so momentous, to the point of nearly ripping them apart. So much love and pain. Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful!!!!

[flurrytwilight.livejournal.com]

wow. Simply wow.

[redrouged.livejournal.com]

I absolutely loved this. The emotions just seem grittier than a lot of fics I've read, it's well-paced, the flashbacks are wonderfully done plus a happy ending! ♥

[little-ursa.livejournal.com]

It was incredible! I loved it! Thank You!
And I think I know who the author is. I don't know another person who writes so remarkable sex-scenes^^

[carolinelamb.livejournal.com]

this was so well done! i love classic ideas with a twist - and mpreg is such a hard classic to write because its been done so often. and yet - you wrote it in such a delightful, real way.

i loved how you wrote draco and harrys changing relationship, the pregnancy and the life after having the baby.

every character had a face, and a voice instead of being cut out figures, draco's team mates, the coach, narcissa and andromeda, and even the rival seeker.

great story!

(and you made me stay up until 4.30am :D)

[senbo.livejournal.com]

I can't remember reading mpreg this realistic. I can't remember reading mpreg this enjoyable either. I loved how real this fic was from the awkward wall!sex to Draco's fierce protectiveness to Harry's sort-of-cheating. It was all so real that it made me want to weep.

IMO, this just might be the best mpreg ever written.

[slashastic.livejournal.com]

omg this was amazing!
I've been waiting for this fic ever since i saw that someone had taken the prompt!
mpreg is such a guilty pleasure of mine.

wonderfully written! :D