Begin Life Anew

by Anonymous

Summary:

A very poor Draco Malfoy is at his wit's end after the war, so Harry suggests that they have sex as an excuse to give Draco money. Draco gets pregnant and has to hide it, because he doesn't believe that Harry could ever love him in any way.

Notes:

This fic is a part of the HD Mpreg Fest 2026!

I had so much fun writing this piece, which is my first fic for this fandom! It was quite the struggle to finish, but I did it with help from D and a helluva lot of energy drinks

Shout out to you, D! And thank you once again :D

Also a big thank you to the mods of the 2026 Harry/Draco Mpreg Fest! Without your kind words and encouragement I never would have finished!

Draco knew it had been a mistake to make a deal with Potter, but there really was no other way.

 

Life had been tough after the war ended. People hadn’t taken too kindly to the Malfoys’ treachery, so he couldn’t use his name anymore to sleep in a warm bed or even get a hot meal.

 

His father was in Azkaban, and thankfully he was trapped there, otherwise he’d punish Draco for selling his wand to get enough money for a meal.

 

His mother, may she rest in peace, had succumbed not long after they’d fallen from grace, and while Draco knew that he would very likely go the same way soon, he still made one last stubborn attempt at survival. She’d probably be disappointed about him selling his wand too, but what good can disappointment do when you’re dead?

 

Draco had just exited the pawnshop when he crashed into a sturdy person, making him lose his grip around his coins and land his bony arse on the street.

 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, are you alrigh-“

 

Draco cut him off before the man could finish his sentence. “Stay out of my business, Potter.” His tone was venomous, much like a trapped animal that was doing its best at scaring off a predator.

 

“I would if I knew I had walked into you, Malfoy,” Potter said coldly, but then he seemed more interested as he saw Draco collect the scattered coins on the ground. “… What are you doing, anyway?”

 

“I’m doing laundry in the middle of the street. Seriously, what does it look like, Potter?” Again the words were said with as much venom as Draco could muster, but being on the ground and desperately searching for small change was making Draco look more like a fool than not.

 

It confused Harry a great deal, and without thinking much about it, he asked what seemed like an innocent question. “Why don’t you just use your wand?”

 

Draco looked more than a little sad, but in the end he said bitterly: “I don’t have it anymore.”

 

It seemed to finally click for Potter. The pawnshop, the small amount of coins, the lack of a wand…

 

“Bloody hell, Malfoy… I guess things have been really bad for you.”

 

This made Draco laugh out loud with a bitterness that couldn’t be mistaken. Oh, if only Potter knew. “More than bad. It’s been awful! I might as well turn to prostitution now!”

 

Potter looked shocked for a moment, but then Draco could see the gears turning in his head, even if it went ever so slowly.

 

“You know, Malfoy…”

 

When Potter didn’t continue, Draco impatiently rushed him. “What, Potter?”

 

“You could… You could become my prostitute.”

 

A long, uncomfortable bout of silence stretched out between them before Malfoy started laughing hysterically. Him! Draco Malfoy, an ex-Death Eater, becoming a fucktoy for none other than the great Harry Potter himself!

 

He laughed so hard that he didn’t care who heard him or what they might do to him. This was preposterous; even Potter himself seemed to think so with the way his ears turned a little red and he started fidgeting. However, this didn’t mean that Potter was done being absurd.

 

“Malfoy, please. I’m being serious,” Potter started, quiet at first, but then he grew louder, bolder. “If you want, I can pay for your rent. I can probably pay a little more than that, but then you’d have to…”

 

Red ears turning even more red, Potter continued. “You’d have to be available at all times. For-“

 

“For you shoving your prick into me? Oh please, Potter. I might be at rock bottom, but I still have a little dignity left.” Draco was serious once more, especially now that he was trying to defend himself and the Malfoy name.

 

“Suit yourself. I’m just trying to help you.” Potter said with visible disappointment in his expression, then took out his wand and used accio to gather all of Draco’s coins in his hands. There weren’t a lot of them, which made it easy to hand them back to Draco while mumbling: “Let me know if you change your mind.”

 

And then Draco was left on the street. Standing there, tiny amount of money in his hands that seemed like they weighed nothing, Draco tried to tell himself that he didn’t want to run after Potter.

 

He never was good at listening to himself when it came to things like this.

 

***

 

“You live here?”

 

Draco rolled his eyes at the insensitive question. It had only been half an hour since their encounter, where Draco decided to take up Potter on his offer, and where they eventually decided on going to Draco’s place in muggle London, near the harbour.

 

Yeah okay, his flat might have been a bit old, and it might have been a little dusty, but it was Draco’s place, and he was fine with the way it was. It wasn’t like he had the energy to clean or anything like that when he was that close to living on the streets.

 

It had been very hard for Draco to find a job, especially considering that he and his family were outcasts. He had been relying on the Malfoy name and wealth for so long that he didn’t have any job experience. Besides, who would employ him at this point, anyway?

“Yes, Potter, this is what I call my home.” Draco said as he went directly to the window, opening it to get some fresh air into the tiny flat. There wasn’t a lot of space in his one room flat, so Draco had had to decorate his room with very few pieces of furniture; a sofa, a chair, and a suitcase. That was where he kept the couple of holey robes he still had.

 

“Sit down wherever, I’ll bring some tea.” Draco said nonchalantly, already leaving for the small kitchenette where he took out two mugs, one a little dirty, the other one missing the handle. Somehow, the one missing the handle was his favourite. It reminded him a little of himself; broken, but still going strong.

 

Potter did as Draco said, opting for the chair instead of the sofa. Probably because the sofa still had a couple of blankets on it from when he had tried to sleep.

 

Draco couldn’t help but glance over at Potter while he waited for the water to boil, taking in his slightly uncomfortable, but curious expression. It seemed like Potter looked everywhere but at Draco. He was probably regretting his words… So be it.

 

Going back with the two mugs of hot tea, Draco handed the one that wasn’t missing a handle to Potter, then sat on the sofa.

 

There was an awkward silence in the room as both men tried to approach the subject, but there simply was no way to do so. Just how do you ask your archnemesis to become your first customer for your newly-started prostitution business?

 

“Malfoy-”

 

“Potter-”

 

They said the names at the same time, and while Draco didn’t want to give Potter the satisfaction of speaking first, he had to. Instead of talking, Draco took a sip of his tea, indicating that Potter could speak.

 

“Malfoy, it’s difficult to see you like this…” Potter started, and absentmindedly Draco realised that he was right; the way that his cheeks and eyes had sunken into his skull was, quite frankly, bloody terrifying. His hair, which had grown long over the last 2 years, was matted and dirty. His body, which had previously been hidden underneath his thin and worn robes, was now on display as he wore his old clothes that looked very baggy on him now, when they had fit him perfectly before. 

 

All in all, Draco looked worse for wear, and he briefly wondered if Potter wanted to actually shag him or just felt pity for him. Either way, if he played his cards right, he would survive the next couple of months until Potter lost interest in him. In addition to that, he might just save up enough money for him to move away from this horrible place and start that potions shop he’d always dreamed of.

 

He just had to be clever about this, to seem like he played into Potter’s hands, when really it was Draco using Potter’s generosity to his advantage.

 

Yes. Draco could do this. He just had to survive a couple of months of shagging, then he’d be free of the cage that was this rotten life.

 

“Potter, let’s just get it over with," Draco said determinedly, getting up again to take Potter’s mug of tea that he hadn’t even touched.

 

“Wait, Malfoy! I said wait!” Potter quickly stood up and tried to protest. He was probably about to take back his offer, and while Draco felt relieved about that, he knew that he had to milk this situation.

 

“Why? You just want a quick round, don’t you?” He felt a little nauseous from his words, but Draco would follow through with this. His survival literally depended on it.

 

“I, I-I do, but I also want-”

 

Draco had put the mugs on the counter of his kitchenette, then gone over to Potter and started to pull down the dark haired man’s trousers without any warning.

 

“Bloody hell, Malfoy!” Potter exclaimed at the abruptness, but he did nothing to stop Draco from getting them both ready.

 

“Hurry up and use a lubrication spell.” Draco said, getting a little impatient. If he could get this over with, he could wash up afterwards and maybe get a hot meal. He really wanted that right now, more than he wanted his own potions shop.

 

Potter gave Draco a weird look, but then he took out his wand as Draco took his own trousers off. He didn’t want them to get dirtied by whatever fluids that were going to stain them, even if they already were a little dirty and very worn.

 

The things that happened during the sex were a little muddled in Draco’s mind. He remembered getting on the sofa, saying something along the lines of “I don’t care if I haven’t tried it before, just do it.”, and then snapping out of his haze once Potter had put on his clothes again.

 

“Thanks, Malfoy, that was… That was quite something.” He looked very disheveled and a little out of breath, but he seemed very happy and relaxed now. Must’ve meant that Draco had been good at it.

 

Before Draco could respond, Potter pulled out a bag of coins. He didn’t even count them as he put them down on the chair, giving Draco an awkward smile. “As promised. I hope we can meet up again in the near future….”

 

Draco looked at the bag of coins, then up at Potter’s face, and then back at the bag of coins once more. It seemed promising, like there were a lot coins in it. Hopefully they wouldn’t just be small change… Even if they were, he hoped there was enough for at least a couple of meals. Just enough for him to feed himself until he met with Potter again.

 

“Well, I really must be going. It was, uh, nice seeing you again, Malfoy.” Potter said as he went to the front door, dishevelled hair looking quite normal already. It was like it always was: messy beyond redemption, not like Draco’s own hair. However, it somehow suited him. Made him look very Potter-esque.

 

“I’ll send an owl next time, okay?”

 

Then Potter was gone.

 

The silence that came over the flat was deafening, and Draco didn’t move for a good five minutes, too out of it for him to comprehend what had just happened:

 

He’d just had sex. 

 

With Harry Potter.

 

A guy.

 

When he wasn’t even gay.

 

And he’d gotten paid.

 

For having sex.

 

Gay sex.

 

With Potter.

“I’m really in for it now, aren’t I?” Draco whispered into the empty and hollow flat. He tried to move his body to go get the money, but his body screamed in pain the moment it made just a little bit of movement. Instead he opted to stay on sofa, laying on his side with his knees drawn as close to his chest as his aching body would allow, spilling tear after heavy tear as he sobbed.

 

Draco told himself they were from the relief of having found an income, but the truth was he had never been more disgusted with himself.

 

***

 

The first thing Draco bought after the sex with Harry Potter was a hot meal. He went down to a food stall close to his flat, eyes hungry and stomach even hungrier, and got a serving of fish and chips.

 

He almost couldn’t contain himself as the food was being made, and the moment it was done, he snatched it out of the poor man’s hands.

 

Draco made his way to the nearest bench, carrying the food in trembling hands. When he had sat down, he finally let himself eat. The first bite was hot, too scalding in his mouth, but it was edible, and what was more important, it was fresh. 

 

Burning his fingers and his tongue, Draco ate quickly, feeling the food slowly fill his stomach that had been empty for so long. It felt good, but also a little nauseating as the greasy food was probably not the best thing to eat after going hungry for so long.

 

That was why Draco felt horrible the moment he stepped over the doorstep to his flat, absolutely nauseous and bloated.

 

He moaned pitifully as he staggered his way to the loo, one hand clasped over his mouth and the other around the sack of coins. Hopefully he’d be able to keep the food down, because if he didn’t, it would be a waste of the money he had just gotten.

 

In the end, his body decided to betray him and expel the delicious dinner he had just consumed. It was actually quite sad to see his dinner go that way, he thought. Sad and wasteful.

 

After getting up on his shaky legs, still very much sore from the sex with Potter, Draco went to the sink in the kitchenette to rinse his mouth from the horrid acidic taste that lingered on this tongue from the vomiting. It was an instant relief to get the taste out of his mouth, much like the rain that swept over the ground and took all the dirty and disgusting things with it.

 

But now that he was somewhat content, Draco was exhausted. He had thought he would die today, or maybe tomorrow if he was lucky, but he managed to survive for longer than he expected. Tomorrow would bring another chance with it, and while Draco wanted to be excited, the mental drain of the day had been too great.

 

Draco sighed, shuffling towards the sofa and letting himself fall down on it, unable to care care about the dried stains of his and Potter’s fluids on it. Usually Draco was a bit of a neat freak, but right now he was too tired to even consider cleaning the sofa. It would have to wait until tomorrow, where everything was possible… 

 

Well, hopefully it was.

 

***

 

The next time Potter wanted to meet up was around a week later, when his owl had come to Draco’s tiny flat.  Draco thought it was hilarious that only a week had passed, but at the same time he was relieved, because the coin purse started getting a little too light for his taste, even if he had done his best to save money by only buying canned foods.

 

But the weird thing was that Potter had asked for Draco to come to his place.

 

Potter’s place.

 

Where he lived.

 

Probably together with that Weasley woman.

 

Who had not been mentioned by Potter even once so far.

 

Draco had heard about Grimmauld Place before, but he had never seen it himself, so to see the Black house in person was kind of exciting.

 

Potter stood outside on the street in front of the house, hands in his big coat’s pockets, looking a little like he had been standing there in the cold autumn weather for a long time, judging by how red his nose was. 

 

“Oi, Malfoy! You came!” Potter lit up the moment he saw Draco, and did his face grow a little bit more red? Either way, he looked happy to see Draco, which made Draco dread the encounter even more.

 

“Good evening, Potter,” Draco said in a neutral voice, trying not to show just how nervous he was for the inevitable act that was awaiting him. “Shall we get to it?”

 

“Oh, no. Not here,” Potter grinned slightly, looking a little bashful. “We’re going to The Leaky Cauldron.”

 

“Pardon?” Draco’s surprise was evident in his voice, his face, his everything. He certainly hadn’t expected going to Leaky, not when Potter was the saviour of the wizarding world, and Draco was the outcast who had betrayed everyone.

 

Potter took his reaction pretty well, chuckling as he placed his hand on the small of Draco’s back, pressing slightly as he started to walk. “Don’t you worry, Malfoy. It’s going to be fine.”

 

Oh no, Draco thought. This was going to be anything but fine.

 

***

 

As it turned out, it was mostly fine. Still, Draco couldn’t help but notice the way the barkeeper gave him an odd look as he passed him by.

 

He felt bad about this situation, but Potter had insisted on going to the inn, saying something about ‘not feeling comfortable in Draco’s flat’, and to be fair, Draco couldn’t blame him.

 

His flat did not have the best environment with all the mold and such, but it was his and it was secure.

 

Here he was an outsider, a complete nobody with a history as black as the slightly faded Dark Mark on his arm.

 

However, he would soldier through. What other choice did he have?

 

“Two butterbeers, please!” Potter’s voice rang out, confident as always.

 

It made Draco cringe.

 

Quickly scurrying to a table in the back, Draco made sure to make himself as small as possible as he didn’t want to attract any more attention than absolutely necessary. He sat down in the corner, back to the wall, his wary eyes making sure to capture every movement should someone try to curse him.

 

It wouldn’t be the first time, after all.

 

“Malfoy! I got us the butterbeer!” Potter’s boisterous voice sounded loud in Draco’s ears, his heart racing as he realised that Potter had just revealed his identity to the whole establishment.

 

“Would you mind quietening down, Potter!” Draco hissed as he made himself even smaller with his hood over his head.

 

“What’s wrong, Malfoy? You don’t like the place?” Potter said with a small voice as he put the mug of butterbeer in front of Draco. He looked and acted like a lost puppy that had just been scolded for the first time.

 

It didn’t suit him.

 

“I don’t mind the place, but don’t announce my presence to the entire room, please.” Draco grumbled. Obviously Potter didn’t understand that going out in the wizarding public could end up in an assault, and that was the best case scenario.

 

Draco didn’t even dare think about the worst case scenario, already feeling his palms get clammy, reaching for a wand that was no longer there.

 

Potter must have misunderstood his movements for being cold, because he took off his nice jacket and put it on top of Draco’s raggy robes.

 

“Malfoy, if you’re uncomfortable, just tell me. We’ll leave if it’s too cold.”

 

This… daft oaf…!

 

Draco wanted to tell Potter off;  wanted to give him a piece of his mind of how dangerous it was for him to be back in the wizarding world because everyone hated him and wanted him dead. However, Potter’s big, concerned eyes looked at him with so much emotion that he couldn’t help but look away.

 

Potter was worried about him, but he treated him nicely and even paid him for his services. That was more than could be said about other people…

 

“I just need something strong. Get me some Firewhisky!” Draco ended up huffing out, to which Potter happily obliged.

 

***

One and a half bottles of Firewhisky later made sure Draco couldn’t walk in a straight line.

 

“Potter, you… you piece of shit…” Draco slurred as they stood outside of The Leaky Cauldron.

 

“Yes, Malfoy?” Potter mused, not quite as drunk as Draco, but still very much intoxicated. He had Malfoy leaning on him as they made their way to somewhere Draco didn’t know or care about.

 

“I want you… to fuck me… you absolute idiot.”

 

“Yes, Malfoy.” Potter smirked, and then Draco’s world went black as his consciousness faded.

 

***

 

The next morning started with a pain so great that Draco didn’t even want to open his eyes. It was like a tight, pinching pain, one that made him let out a gasp the moment he forced his tired eyes open.

 

But it wasn’t a pain in his behind, oh no. It was in his head, just behind his eyelids. As Draco came to, he realised that he was home on his sofa, a blanket thrown over him.

 

How’d he get here? The last thing he remembered was that he’d asked Potter to fuck him, and then… nothing.

 

The thought of it made his face flush and his heart race, but… there was no pain in his butt. And when he got up, cold hand on his forehead to alleviate the pain, he realised that there was a coin bag waiting for him on the counter.

 

There was no note, not even anything that could indicate that he’d have sex yesterday…

 

Had Potter really just left him here? Without a trace of doing what he should have done?

 

Had Potter just paid him without Draco having to put his body on the line?

 

Draco’s confusion was immense, and it only grew bigger when he realised just how heavy the bag of coins was.

 

Staggering back on his sofa, Draco sat with the coin bag in his hand, a great pain in his head, and a giant question mark in his heart.

 

“Why’d you do that, Potter?” Draco mumbled as he looked down on the bag in his hand. “Why’d you be nice when I mean nothing to you?”

 

***

 

As time passed, Potter continued to take Draco out and visit Draco’s home afterwards. And on the evenings where Draco was too out of it to consent, the following morning only left a heavy coin purse waiting on his counter and an immensely confused Draco on his sofa.

 

Because of the frequent meals and his heavier-than-usual coin purse, Draco actually began to look better, to feel better. He wasn’t clinging on to dear life anymore. Instead his body was starting to kind of fill out in a sense, and with the new, improved looks came a certain kind of confidence.

 

Draco felt like he could do more things, be more things. And when he told Potter over one of their spontaneous dinner dates at a small restaurant that he wanted to study potions, Potter more than supported him and actually encouraged him to do it.

 

All in all, Draco was feeling great.

 

Right until he wasn’t.

 

***

 

It was at his second potions class that Draco was feeling quite off. He hadn’t managed to find many friends there, partly because most of the students there were a bit younger than him, but also because of the fact that he was an ex-Death Eater.

 

In fact, there was only one person who didn’t seem to mind him; a young girl with big, blue eyes and a brilliant mind.

 

“Mr. .... Malfoy, are you not feeling well?” Came her concerned voice, but Draco didn’t want to worry her even more and scare her off, so he just waved off her concerns.

 

“I’m alright, just… a bit of nausea. Now, what did we need to add to the cauldron? I don’t quite remember.”

 

Maybe she knew that he was trying to change the subject, because she gave him a disapproving look but continued to add some leaves akin to daisy petals into the cauldron.

 

Draco knew he wasn’t fooling anybody, but he still tried his best by ducking into the bathroom during their break. He had gotten worse as the potion had continued to bew, actually gagging when it was almost done. The smell of flower petals and other things had brewed into a strange concoction that had an awful smell. He couldn’t quite describe it other than it being bad despite no one else reacting to the smell.

 

In fact, one of the girls found the scent pleasing and even called it floral.

 

Draco could only disagree with that as he emptied his stomach into the toilet bowl.

 

After he was done, he sat on the toilet lid, holding his churning stomach that just wouldn’t calm down.

 

Outside, they loudly proclaimed that their potions were finished, but instead of celebrating, Draco felt the need to stay in the bathroom, his hands clammy, his stomach aching, and his mind confused.

 

When had his body ever had such a strong reaction to floral scents? The reaction wasn’t just strong, it was overpowering. Everything that came with it, the vomiting, the lethargy that suddenly hit him out of nowhere, even the confusion.

 

Draco had always been a top student at Hogwarts, especially in potions class. He knew how to brew them, knew how to make them excellent instead of the standard most people used to make.

 

Why was he confused by something he knew so damn well?

 

As Draco looked down on his sweaty and clammy hands, he realised that maybe he was feeling sick because of an allergic reaction. He’d never really grown up with some, but maybe he’d just had them lying dormant for years? He decided he should get checked out at St. Mungo’s…

 

***

 

Booking the appointment at St. Mungo’s wasn’t hard. However, getting there was.

 

After Draco had left his class early, the wizard had immediately gone to the magical hospital, but on the way he had been hit with a sudden heaviness in his body that he was sure he had been cursed without realising it. He was almost leaning on the wall on every other block, too exhausted to keep walking. 

 

But he had to do it. He had to figure out what was wrong with him.

 

It took him what felt like an eternity to arrive at the doorstep, and by then he felt about ready to pass out. His vision was swimming, and he had a hard time walking straight.

 

“Sir? Do you require assistance, Sir?” came a muddled voice from somewhere, but Draco wasn’t sure where.

 

“Ho’pital…” Draco mumbled, his plea sure to fall on deaf ears. It always did, especially in the time before Potter’s ‘help’.

 

Suddenly a lot of noise erupted around him, and Draco absentmindedly wondered if he was getting cursed or someone was about to start a fight with him.

 

It would make sense. He was a Malfoy, after all. Instead of helping him, they’d harm him. Just as long as he’d be able to sit down for a moment and rest his shaky legs, then he’d take the beatings and curses afterward.

 

But no, a wheelchair was produced and he was placed in it gently, a healer using Lumos to blind him, or at least it felt that way.

 

“Sir! Stay with us, okay? Don’t pass out!”

 

Well, Draco wasn’t really the master of that.

 

Finally he slumped forwards, and it all went black.

 

***

 

The first thing Draco felt was how soft the bed was. Even before his eyes opened, he noticed how nice it was to sleep in a proper bed again, how comfortable and warm he was in said bed, and he wanted nothing more than to disappear into that comfortable darkness of slumber and sleep a bit more.

 

However, he wasn’t allowed to do that when a sharp voice called out his name. “Mr. .... Malfoy.”

 

Cracking open one eye, Draco got hit by the too-bright sunlight and felt the sudden urge to keep them closed.

 

“Mr. .... Malfoy.” came the voice again, this time sharper; more naggingly.

 

“... Mmh?” Draco ended up mumbling as he tried to get both of his eyes to stay open, but it was hard with all the light, and he was so tired…

 

“Will you be joining us in the real world anytime soon, Mr. .... Malfoy?”

 

Those harsh words made Draco’s face heat up in shame, and finally he was fully alert, though it was a battle to keep at it. “Yes, I’m awake now.”

 

“Good. Because you’ve got some explaining to do.”

 

Knitted eyebrows showed just how confused Draco was. “Huh…?”

 

“Mr. ... Malfoy, you’re quite anemic, not to mention underweight. It’s not good for the child.”

 

“... Huh? Which child?” The confusion was clear in Draco’s face, especially considering he had just woken up from fainting. He felt his chest start to tighten as his heart raced, preparing for an oncoming panic attack.

 

The stern healer’s face changed from a strict mask of barely concealed anger to one of surprise, then sadness and pity.

 

“You don’t even know, do you?”

 

“Know what? Would you just tell me already!” Draco’s voice grew shrill. His balled-up fists and fast-beating heart made him look and feel frustrated. His fear matched it perfectly. What was wrong with him?

 

“You’re pregnant, Mr. .... Malfoy. 9 weeks,” she deadpanned, her professional mask back in place. “And I suggest you take this seriously before you put your and the child’s lives on the line.”

 

“... Pregnant?” Draco echoed, his hands loosening and his heart slowing down as his mind went numb.

 

The healer simply sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, then confirmed it again. “Yes, Mr. .... Malfoy. And before you make a rushed decision, I believe you should think this over. I’ll send you home with some potions and something for the anemia. Please know that while you still have a choice, it’s not for long. The sooner you decide, the better.”

 

Then the healer left. She, of course, came back later with potions in hand, but by then Draco had all but disappeared from the hospital bed, only leaving behind a well-made bed and a frustrated healer.

 

***

 

It didn’t come to him immediately.

 

Draco had thankfully had the mind to get his robes back; changed into them too, but he still felt numb.

 

As he walked home with this new knowledge, he still felt numb.

 

Pregnant.

 

He was… pregnant?

 

How?

 

No, he knew how, but why? Why him? And why Potter, of all people?

 

The closer he got to his flat, the more he understood.

 

He was apparently pregnant with a child.

 

Potter’s child.

 

And now… he was supposed to make a choice. Keep it? Or… let it go?

 

Draco opened the door to his flat, too exhausted to think more about it. He went directly to his sofa, then fell down on it and closed his eyes. He’d make the decision later… or tomorrow. Or the day after that.

 

Right now, he felt too confused and tired to think about it; all he wanted to do was sleep.

 

He’d take care of the problem later… Probably.

***

However important it was, Draco didn’t really ‘take care’ of the problem that week. He also didn’t do anything about it the following week, despite the vicious morning sickness and the insistent owls from Potter. 

 

He kept on seeking Draco’s company, even going as far as to threaten him with an unplanned visit if Draco didn’t let himself out of the flat and meet up with him.

 

In the end Draco had to come up with something, which turned out to be a half truth; he told Potter that he was sick, but never specified which sickness.

 

An hour later, Potter stood at his front door.

 

“I’ve got the goods!” Potter exclaimed as he walked past a hobbling Draco, who had barely gotten up from the sofa since he was feeling so weak. In his arms were two large bags, filled to the brim.

 

“I can see that,” came Draco’s deadpan reply, but curiosity still won him over as he sighed and closed the door. “What kind of goods?”

 

“Oh, just some ingredients for soup!”

 

“Soup?” Draco stupidly echoed. And as he looked out, he could see that it was beginning to snow. “I guess it is getting kind of cold lately…”

 

Potter grinned from ear to ear. “It is! And you’re sick! So I’m here to make you feel better!”

 

Draco wanted to facepalm himself and let out a sigh. In the end he only sighed. The less Potter knew about his pregnancy, the better. After all, if Draco wasn’t keeping it, why should Potter know about it?

 

Besides, as everyone in the wizarding world knew, Potter wasn’t interested in having a family.

 

Draco gulped silently. He’d just weigh Potter down with an unwanted child. Potter just wanted quick shagging sessions and a place to let out steam. If Potter really wanted a child, he’d say it… but not to Draco. Because Draco was just his booty call and nothing else.

 

That’s what Draco told himself, like he was trying to convince himself that he hadn’t noticed the happiness in Potter’s eyes when the other man gave him a hefty bowl of soup later.

 

“Eat up, Draco! I made sure that it’s loaded with vegetables that are good for you when you’re sick!” Potter beamed, but Draco could only frown as he sat on the sofa.

 

“I don’t want to go on a first name basis, Potter.” Draco said almost snarkily. Then he looked down on his bowl full of steaming soup, which smelled heavenly. As he tentatively tried it, it tasted even better than it looked.

 

“I didn’t know you could cook,” Draco said with a hint of awe in his voice.

 

Potter shrugged. “I did it a lot when I was younger. You know, when I lived with the Dursleys.”

 

The atmosphere grew tense at the mention of Potter’s family, and for once Draco wanted nothing more than to dig himself a nice little hole in the ground so he could hide in it after that awkward moment.

 

However, instead of Draco being forced to start looking for a shovel, Potter actually continued the subject.

 

“They’re okay now, and I sure don’t miss them,” Potter sat down heavily with a sigh, his eyes sad and downcast. “But I do miss the company, even if it’s just every once in a while…”

 

Draco gulped. Potter wanted his company, but he surely didn’t want a family… Right?

 

“It’s good,” Draco said quickly to change the subject. “Best soup I’ve ever had.”

 

Potter only smiled at that, but he seemed very content as they ate, a slight blush on his cheeks.

 

***

 

The blasted morning sickness and anemia only lasted a few days after that. Draco was sure that Potter’s hearty soup had something to do with it. It took Draco 3 days to get through the leftovers, and after that, Potter routinely sent over food or brought it himself, much to Draco’s embarrassment.

 

And every time, a full bag of coins followed suit.

 

Soon, Draco had a rather big stash of coins. It was growing so big, in fact, that Draco could easily put aside money for the bad days that would surely return.

 

The problem was, though, that that wasn’t the only thing that was growing.

 

“Bloody hell…” Draco mumbled as he looked at his larger-than-usual belly in the mirror. It had a certain roundness to it, a fullness and firmness that was getting undeniable. In the beginning it looked more like bloating, which could easily be passed off as too much of Potter’s delicious cooking, but now the curve was there in his face, even when he looked down.

 

It wasn’t a food baby anymore.

 

It was an actual baby, one that was only going to get bigger, and Draco hated it.

 

He wanted to be rid of it. Not necessarily get an abortion, just… have it disappear. That way he could keep going with the thing he had with Potter, and Potter would be none the wiser.

 

Because Potter didn’t want a baby or a family. If Draco did have the baby and took care of it, Potter would never look at him again.

 

And then Draco would lose his way of income, his new, comfortable lifestyle, and worst of all: He’d lose his only friend.

 

Because even though Potter saw Draco as nothing more than a quick shag and a bit of company, Draco was starting to see Potter in a new light.

 

The shagging had turned more tender, and the meals Potter made had become more frequent: It was almost like they were lovers; family.

 

Draco didn’t dare dream of it. He didn’t even dare pretend the idea of a happy family could ever exist. After all, Draco had never had one himself. So how could he ever entertain that idea with someone as bloody stupid as Potter?

 

The pregnant wizard put on his loose robes quickly. The less he had to look at his bump, the less he had to pretend it didn’t exist. If he just didn’t look, then it wasn’t there.

 

Even if the back pain and hip pain was starting to get a bit annoying, as well as the bloating and swelling of limbs.

 

Yes, Draco took every opportunity to not check in with himself. That way he could pretend nothing was wrong and that Potter could still fall in love with him one day. The less Potter knew about the pregnancy, the less Draco had to keep up the tedious act.

 

***

 

“Mr. Malfoy, please pay attention.”

 

Draco groggily opened his eyes and looked at the teacher with a sleepy expression. He’d been so tired lately that he was falling asleep at the most inopportune of moments, especially when he was just waiting around for things, like when he was cooking dinner.

 

This time it was the potion he was brewing in potions class. The wait took a small eternity, and Draco had only meant to close his eyes for a few minutes…

 

Yet the teacher had looked at him with annoyance as Draco woke up properly. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

 

“Maybe an energising potion would be better to brew than this one?” 

 

Draco ducked his head, embarrassment flooding his face like blowing way too hard into a steaming hot mug and getting the liquid all over your face.

 

To be fair, Draco hadn’t really had the opportunity to do so. He’d always been precise in his movements; calculated, but with a hint of arrogance.

 

Potter would probably point out that it was more than a hint. However, Draco thought Potter to be the arrogant one, with his stupid glasses fogging up on winter mornings at Hogwarts while drinking hot chocolate… 

 

Speaking of hot chocolate… Draco would die for a mug right about now. It was cold outside, the snow slowly descending upon the ground, but he was bundled up inside in his biggest set of robes as he tried to be as unsuspicious as possible.

 

He had been craving hot chocolate for a few days now, so much, in fact, he had almost begged Potter to get it for him.

 

But Potter couldn’t know. He was never allowed to know, not when he didn’t even want a family to care for. 

 

Draco had to do this all by himself. So when the potions class ended, Draco decided to be a strong, independent man and buy himself some hot chocolate at a nearby café.

 

He didn’t get very far.

 

Because on the way, he met a smiling Potter who was standing outside the building, his glasses wet from the melted snow. He must have been standing there for quite a while, because he was covered in a thin layer of snow, but that didn’t put a damper on his mood.

 

“Draco! Over here!” He called out, waving him over, and who was Draco to say no?

 

“I told you not to call me by my first name, Potter,” Draco sighed as he walked closer, instinctively sucking in his stomach so that Potter wouldn’t notice. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I wanted to make sure you got home safely.” Potter said with a tilt of his head like it wasn’t the most obvious thing, a bit of the loose snow on his unruly hair falling off.

 

This made Draco blush furiously, and he quickly looked away with a scowl, even though it was more embarrassed than angry. “I can go home by myself. Besides, I’m not going home right now.”

 

Again Potter tilted his head. “Where are you going? Can I come?”

 

Potter was practically wagging his non-existent Golden Retriever tail and giving him the biggest pair of puppy-dog eyes.

 

He must really have been desperate for a shag…

 

“Fine, if you must.” Draco said with a sigh, then raised his hand to brush off the rest of the the snow on Potter’s head. After that he gave Potter a sceptical look, his heart racing at the thought of what they were going to do. “But we’re going for a mug of hot chocolate. Do you still want to come?”

 

“Oh, absolutely!”

 

Potter was way too energetic for this, and Draco was way too determined to satisfy his cravings, so he only started walking to the café without looking back to see if Potter was following along.

 

Some people would say that Potter was whipped. Draco would say that Potter was desperate. Draco would call himself delusional.

 

They were all correct, of course, but each in their own way.

 

***

 

That night Draco made sure the lights were off while Potter fucked him. He was sure he looked horrendous with his changing body, especially after the big meal Potter had made him eat when they had had hot chocolate.

 

His sweet tooth had grown immensely lately, but Potter didn’t mind it. In fact, he encouraged it, which made it hard for Draco to keep his hands to himself.

 

It seemed that Potter had also had a hard time keeping his hands to himself, because they were roaming all over Draco’s face and body, the touch tender and deliberate. It was like Potter was insisting to feel around everywhere, probably because it was so dark inside Draco’s one room flat.

 

And for once, Draco actually enjoyed it. He still sucked in his belly, of course, but it was getting harder to do so. Especially when Potter was on top of him on his sofa, a hand tenderly caressing his face. “By Merlin’s beard, Draco… You feel so good right now…!”

 

“Don’t mention that old crook’s name while we’re having sex, Potter,” Draco snorted, but when Potter then let his trail of kisses go down on Draco’s body, he didn’t get further than one of Draco’s pecs.

 

There was a pain so sudden and obtrusive that Draco yelped loudly, and his body instinctively rejected Potter’s touch by pushing him away with his hands. “Get off! Get off of me!”

 

Potter did as Draco ordered, but he looked confused and sad that Draco suddenly told him to stop and get off of him. “What? Wh-What is it, Draco?”

 

“It hurts…” Draco whimpered, his hand covering the spot protectively where Potter had sucked on his nipple. “It hurts, you dolt!”

 

“What hurts?” Potter then quickly mumbled a quiet Lumos spell to light up the room, but it blinded Draco so much that he covered his eyes in surprise and therefore forgot to suck in his belly.

 

There was a sharp gasp from Potter. Draco didn’t understand why until he realised that Potter had free access to his little ‘secret’… And that Potter had figured it out.

 

He let out a defeated sigh and let his arms fall down, his head turned down and away in shame as he let Potter ogle his changed body.

 

“Draco… you’re bleeding!”

 

Wait, what?

 

Draco looked up at Potter again from his spot on the sofa, his racing heart and sweaty palms now the least of his problems. Because Potter was standing over him, concern evident in the way his eyes looked at Draco’s face and hand tentatively reaching for it.

 

“Wait, what’s happening?” Draco felt just as confused as Potter looked, and when Potter touched Draco’s nose, he realised it.

 

“I have a nosebleed…?”

 

Instead of saying something, Potter went to fetch some paper tissues for Draco, quickly coming back with them, as well as what looked like a rather guilty expression.

 

“I’m sorry, Draco. If I’d known you were in pain, I wouldn’t have pushed you to the point of getting a nosebleed.” Potter wrung his hands, almost bouncing nervously in place.

 

Draco took the paper tissues, but was just as confused as before. The paper was indeed a wet red when it came back from touching his nose, but… why didn’t Potter say anything about his body. His belly in particular looked so out of place, he must have noticed something at least.

 

“It’s… okay…” Draco said dazedly, not really getting that Potter hadn’t gotten it yet. It had been quite some time since Draco went to St. Mungos, but he still had a mental count on the weeks of his pregnancy.

 

He was supposed to be somewhere around 20 weeks along right now… How did Potter not realise, not even when his pregnant bump was on display right then and there?

 

“Let’s stop for tonight,” Potter said, the guilt clear as day he made as he turned on the lights and wrapped Draco in a blanket, every move timid and hunched.

 

Draco was still dazed as he sat up, the blanket sliding down his naked body. His heart had been beating so hard, and now… He barely felt anything.

 

Shock, most likely.

 

“I’ll be back some other time, okay?” a now properly dressed Potter said as he quickly re-wrapped Draco’s naked body, and then, without any warning at all, kissed him on the forehead.

 

“Goodnight.”

 

Then he left Draco’s flat without looking back.

 

Draco slowly lifted a hand to where Potter’s lips had touched his forehead, the very same lips that had once caught the Golden Snitch.

 

“... What the fuck, Potter…?”

 

***

 

The following days were hard to get through for Draco. He kept waiting for Potter to send him an owl with a formal statement that Potter was disappointed in Draco for hiding his pregnancy, and that they shouldn’t see each other anymore.

 

However, that letter never came.

 

Instead several, strange letters came in its place.

 

Letters that described how sorry Potter was, how he would make it up to Draco again some day, and that Potter understood that Draco would like a break from him because of his behaviour.

 

Draco arched a brow at every single one of them.

 

Was this bloke insane? Or just plain stupid?

 

Draco sighed. With every letter came a small bag of coins that would serve as his ‘allowance’ for the day. They were more than enough for his 3 daily meals, so Draco hid them to make sure he had enough money for a rainy day.

 

However, when he looked over at his sizeable savings of coins, Draco realised that maybe he didn’t have to save up that much anymore. In fact, there was enough for him to buy back the wand he had sold at the pawn shop.

 

Draco had not been good at wandless magic, but he could do a bit. The whole reason for selling the wand was to make money, and now that he had a decent-sized amount of money and also a rather optimistic-looking future, he could buy it back from the pawn shop.

 

Sure, it had been months, but maybe no one would touch his wand? It was tainted, just like he was; surely no one in their right mind would want a cursed object like that.

 

That’s what Draco told himself when he walked down to the pawn shop, his heart beating a million beats per minute.

 

Unfortunately, he wasn’t that lucky. His wand was not there. Apparently it had been bought the very same day Draco had sold it. According to the pawn shop owner, some bogus collector had come in to buy it shortly after Draco had left the shop.

 

Draco sighed in defeat and left the building, absentmindedly walking around. He should probably sit down soon, since his back was starting to twinge a bit and he was getting tired. 

 

In the late winter weather, Draco watched people passing by in their oversized winter clothing, bundled up because of the cold. They looked happy; content.

 

Looking down at himself then, Draco noticed that his bump was getting noticeable, even though he was wearing his biggest set of robes. He really should go shopping for some more accommodating clothing… and while he was at it, a new wand would be nice.

 

***

 

The moment Draco walked into Ollivanders, the wandmaker looked at him curiously.

 

“Why, of all people… I would never have guessed that you would return here,” the older man said, but not unkindly.

 

Draco’s face flamed instantly, embarrassment making him curl his toes and look away as he greeted the other wizard. “Hello Sir… I’ve come to buy a new wand.”

 

“Why yes, of course you have. Why would you be here otherwise?” The statement came off as a little rude, but Ollivander simply gestured to Draco to come closer. “Come in, come in! We have a big selection of fine wands for you to purchase!”

 

The younger wizard tentatively went closer, but Ollivander showed such warmth and empathy that soon Draco felt much more at ease. Together they found a wand for Draco, and even though it didn’t feel like his old wand, it was still nice and fit comfortably in his hand.

 

“Thank you, Mr. ... Ollivander. Your help means a lot.”

 

The older wizard smiled warmly and nodded. “Of course, Mr. ... Malfoy. I hope to see you again, especially in 11 years’ time.”

 

Draco’s confusion soon turned to embarrassment as he realised what Ollivander had referred to. And if Draco’s embarrassed face had been hot before, it was nothing compared to the absolute flaming heat it experienced now.

 

“Uhm, y-yes Sir. Goodbye, Sir.”

 

Getting outside suddenly became a rather important priority for Draco, which was why he made hasteful steps to leave the awkward situation, escaping to a side street in the cool, wintry air immediately.

 

Here he let out a sigh as he closed his eyes and let himself relax. He really had been careful about not letting his little secret slip, but in the end, nothing got past Mr. ... Ollivander. In fact, it seemed like the older wizard knew the moment he walked in.

 

It was at that moment that Draco felt something. It wasn’t an emotion, nor was it something that hurt.

 

It felt almost… fluttery.

 

Draco looked down at himself, confused. The feeling originated in his belly, in his lower abdomen to be more specific, and it didn’t stop.

 

His hand found its way there by instinct; confused, but still very curious.

 

And then it hit him. “It’s… it’s you, isn’t it?”

 

And though there was no one present in the side street in this blasted cold weather, Draco still received a tiny, well-concealed answer: more fluttery movements from inside his belly.

 

But this time, Draco didn’t feel hot or embarrassed in the slightest.

 

The only thing he felt was an icy cold, terrifying feeling of dread. Because if Draco could feel it moving and he was showing that much, he’d surely not have a lot of time left before Potter could feel it, too.

 

***

 

It was nearly a week before Draco managed to gather enough courage to go out and buy a new set of clothes.

 

It was done in a quick, no-nonsense way, something that was already a big achievement for Draco who was nearing his 22nd week of pregnancy. At this point Draco felt absolutely massive, and he was sure other people could tell.

 

Luckily he was wearing so many layers that most people would just think it was weight gain. And to be fair, Draco would appreciate keeping it like that.

 

With his longer hair and the added weight of his belly, he didn’t look like Draco Malfoy The Deatheater anymore. And that meant people didn’t recognise him that easily, nor did they try to curse him that often anymore.

 

But not being recognizable had its downsides, too.

 

Draco found that when he looked in the mirror, he saw a stranger looking back at him. The longer he looked, the more foreign he looked. His nose had changed, his cheeks looked fuller than before his near-starvation, not to mention his growing size, which was not entirely due to his belly. His thighs, his chest, everything was fuller and more cushioned.

 

Draco hated it.

 

When this was over, he was going on a weight loss journey so that he was presentable to Potter once again. Because that’s what it was about, wasn’t it?

 

The reason Potter stopped coming over and sending letters instead. It was probably because Draco was getting too out of shape because of the damned baby growing inside him. Of course he had expected to get a bit of a belly; the baby had to grow somewhere, after all. 

 

However, after eating Potter’s delicious cooking and being asked out for cake and other scrumptious food, Draco was slowly but surely getting… round.

 

And the worst part of it all? Draco felt the fluttery movement almost all the time now. It happened mostly when Draco ate something he found really delicious, or when he talked to himself or the others in potions class.

 

The other students had long since stopped asking questions since that one time where a young boy had asked why Draco was wearing something so oversized instead of his normal clothing, and Draco had almost had an anxiety attack.

 

He had cried, back then. Something even the teacher was surprised to see. Draco blamed the hormones, but he couldn’t tell them that… Instead, he just stopped showing up.

 

And because of the strange feeling in his belly when the baby moved, he stopped talking to himself, too.

 

Now he was just at home in his awful flat all the time, not going out, not talking, not really doing much of anything.

 

Sure, Draco went out for grocery shopping sometimes. Only once a week, and only on the late evenings when no one else would be around.

 

He lived a quiet life. Reading. Cooking a bit. Sleeping.

 

Waiting.

 

Waiting for the day the blasted baby would be born and he could take up living again.

 

Because no one could know about this bastard baby in his belly, not even its other father. Because Potter didn’t want it, Draco didn’t want it, and Draco was too tired to find other ways to get rid of it.

 

He’d wait.

 

Wait until he could begin his life anew.

***

 

The 24th week mark came and went, and Draco was officially growing restless.

 

Compared to before where he had been feeling awful and exhausted, he was now brimming with energy and motivation. However, there was only so much he could do inside his small flat, and he could only clean it so many times.

 

The flat was spotless after week 23, but then again, the space was easily cleaned in less than half a day, especially with how much Draco made sure not to make a mess.

 

Draco was getting bored. Potter’s letters weren’t really cutting it anymore, and the two weeks of having no contact with other people was making him depressed and restless. It was like he felt trapped in his own home, even if it was by his own choice.

 

Sometimes, in the late hours of evening, Draco would wander outside just to get a small break from being cooped up inside. It also helped with making sure the baby inside him moved less, as it seemed like it found comfort in his nightly outings. 

 

He always put a spell on himself to make his bump look a bit smaller, less conspicuous. And it always tended to work out in his favour.

 

Right until it didn’t.

 

“Blimey, Draco! Didn’t think I’d run into you here!”

 

Draco instantly froze on the sidewalk and slowly turned around. He knew that voice. Sure, there had been a war and an eternity since he last had heard it, but he’d never forget her.

 

One of his best friends.

 

Who’d left him to die the moment his father was imprisoned in Azkaban and he no longer had any real power.

 

“P-Pansy…?”

 

“Who’d you think it was, you knobhead?” She grinned, but then she came closer and Draco’s fight or flight response was triggered.

 

He ran. 

 

Down the streets, entering every other sidestreet until he found a rather suspicious looking alleyway that looked way too dark for safe passage. 

 

Draco didn’t care. He couldn’t let Pansy see him. He couldn’t let anyone know, couldn’t let any see-

 

It was at that moment that Draco felt his legs give in, felt himself fall onto the pavement, hands first and then knees hitting it hard. His breathing came in quick and heavy, gulping for air like a drowning man. All the while, his heart was thumping in his throat so hard he had a feeling it would come up and out with the bout of vomit that was threatening to escape from his mouth.

 

Draco stayed like that for longer than he’d like to admit. He heaved in breath after breath, then started dry-heaving until he felt dizzy.

 

Why? Why did he have to meet Pansy on the streets? After almost 3 years of no contact at all?

 

“Not even…  a single, damn letter…” Draco let out grimly between his gasps of air.

 

It was at that moment a tear ran down the bridge of his nose. Draco wouldn’t even have felt it if not for it being impossible warm on his cheek in the late evening weather. It fell down onto the pavement, followed by another. Then another. And another.

 

Draco was crying in a dimly lit alleyway in the middle of muggle London while trying to ward off a panic attack.

 

It was preposterous. Malfoys didn’t cry. Malfoys were strong and refined, the best and most noble pureblood wizarding family that has ever existed.

 

“Merlin,” Draco huffed to himself as he gathered enough energy to sit up against the brick wall of the alley. “Pull yourself together. You’re better than this, this… display of utter idiocy.”

 

“What wouldn’t Father say? He’d be so disappointed in me.”

 

It was at that moment that the little parasite inside chose to wiggle around and place a few jabs to his insides. It was like the baby could feel his emotions going haywire… however ridiculous it was.

 

“You’re disappointed in me, too. Aren’t you?” Draco said with a sigh, giving in to the urge of rubbing his belly. He’d had it for weeks, months even, given it was quite big and right there in his face. But he wouldn’t acknowledge it, because that meant acknowledging the baby as well.

 

The baby he was trying to get rid of.

 

The baby that was never meant to be his and Potter’s.

 

The baby that was squirming and playing inside him while Draco was having a full-blown meltdown.

 

“Salazar…” Draco mumbled as he dried his eyes. It felt so wrong to give in to his primal instincts; Malfoys never did anything that they didn’t gain anything from. In fact, Malfoys only ever won and never lost in any and all situations.

 

What did Draco gain from this? Well, first of all, he’d gotten a pretty sore back from sitting on the cold ground with his spine resting against a literal brick wall.

 

He tried getting up, but it was harder than he expected. After two false starts he had to resign himself to using the small gaps in the brick walls to heave himself up, something that took a monumental amount of energy. Or maybe it was just the fact that he was already tired from the panic attack.

 

The baby seemed to like it when he was upright, even going as far as kicking him hard enough for him to feel it on the outside.

 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being such an awful person for letting you down so much. Let’s just pretend this didn’t happen, yeah?”

 

Then the most miraculous thing happened: the baby calmed down enough for Draco to pretend it didn’t exist.

 

Draco gaped in surprise. It was like the baby was connected to him and his emotions… but that was ridiculous, wasn’t it?

 

That’s what Draco thought as he made his way home.

 

The baby was not even born yet. And still… it was affecting his whole life. How foolish to be controlled by an unborn life, especially as a Malfoy.

 

And as Draco undid the spell to make his bump seem smaller, Draco had a feeling the baby wasn’t done controlling his life anytime soon.

 

***

 

A letter arrived by a foreign owl the next day. Draco felt exhausted from his small outing the evening before, and so when he woke up on his worn sofa, he felt how his whole body ached and protested against him getting up.

 

However, the owl was insistent, and so Draco forced himself up, bracing his back with his hand as he went over to the window and took the letter.

 

A neat handwriting was on the front of the letter, which didn’t seem like Potter’s at all.

 

No, it was Pansy’s.

 

She had actually written him a letter. 

 

With shaky hands, Draco slowly opened the letter, reading Pansy’s words with the utmost care.

 

When he was done, he numbly went over to the sofa and sat down, staring out into nothingness as he recounted the details of her letter.

 

Pansy wanted to see him.

 

She was worried about him running away, especially when he was running around in Muggle London where you couldn’t do magic freely, so she had invited herself for tea at his flat at 3 o’clock, which he’d better be ready for.

 

Draco sighed tiredly and rubbed a hand over his face.

 

“Just… perfect.”

***

 

At 3 PM, Draco heard a sharp knock on his front door.

 

A sigh escaped Draco’s lips as he heaved himself up from the sofa and went over to the door to let Pansy in.

 

“Draco! It’s good to see you!”

 

“Pansy,” Draco nodded neutrally in acknowledgement. “Come in.”

 

Apparently she didn’t need to be told twice because Pansy brushed past Draco quickly and looked around at his flat.

 

“Oh wow! It’s so small!” 

 

“Well, not everyone can afford a manor in these times, Pansy,” Draco dryly retorted, then went to the electric kettle to make some hot water.

 

“Oh that’s right, your manor got-”

 

“Confiscated. You’re absolutely right, Pansy,” Draco interrupted her, already tired of her and her nasty attitude.

 

Seemingly realising this, Pansy made her way over to Draco with a frown on her lips. “I just wanted to make conversation… which, by the way, you are doing an awful job at.”

 

Draco sighed and mentally counted to ten. “I’m sorry, I’ve been rather occupied with keeping myself alive.”

 

Pansy seemed to shut up at that, but not for long as she sat down on the worn sofa he had just sat in. “Seems like that’s not the only thing you’ve been occupied with.”

 

Draco froze. A million thoughts went through his head as he tried to decipher just what she meant. In the end he decided to play it cool, but curious. “Excuse me?”

 

“Oh come on, Draco. We all know Potter’s taken a liking to you.”

 

Draco felt like the baby inside had been replaced with a big boulder, sitting in the pits of his belly, cold and heavy. “... Come again?”

 

Studying her nails with a small smile, Pansy didn’t even grace Draco with a look. “Oh, I thought you knew? Potter’s been slacking off at work, even going as far as skipping it entirely some days. I thought this was common knowledge.”

 

Draco started to feel a surge of nausea bubble up. Had Potter really been neglecting his work? For… for Draco’s sake?

 

No, that was mental. Draco was deluding himself if he thought he was in high favour with Potter.

 

Then again, Potter never actually told him what he did for work. The few times Draco had asked, he’d just received a ‘It’s not important’ or ‘Office work, the boring kind’.

 

Never had he thought that Potter would give up his time to be with him. Because Potter didn’t fancy him like that, okay?

 

Potter didn’t fancy him in the slightest… they just had a deal.

 

A deal that hadn’t been active for the better part of a month.

 

Yet they still wrote each other letters, and every letter from Potter came with a weekly allowance.

 

Draco suddenly grew dizzy at the possibility that Potter might actually want him around… and not just for the sex.

 

“Draco, you alright, love?”

 

“Huh?” Draco only felt the way Pansy was tugging at his sleeve then, too occupied with his bewildered thoughts.

 

“I said, the kettle’s boiling.”

 

“Ah… yes. Of course.” Draco turned his back on Pansy and started to make them a cup of tea each, one decaf. He didn’t know why he had it laying around, but it came in handy now. For his sake.

 

And the baby’s, too, probably.

 

Speaking of the baby… It was quite active all of a sudden, too pleased with hearing another person’s voice.

 

It was not hurting per se, but it was quite distracting when all Draco wanted was a quick conversation and then get Pansy out of his home.

 

Instinctively, Draco placed a hand on the side of his belly where the baby was kicking, trying to will it into being still.

 

This, of course, didn’t go unnoticed by Pansy. “Draco? What are you doing?”

 

“Shh…” Draco shushed with a furrowed brow, but whether it was for Pansy or the baby, he wasn’t sure.

 

“Is that…” And then Pansy gasped. “Draco, don’t tell me…!”

 

Draco sighed.

 

Should he lie? Tell the truth? Maybe a bit of half-truths could be muttered, but… Draco was just so tired.

 

He wanted nothing more than to let everything out. The near starvation, the deal he’d made with Potter to gain enough money to stay off the streets, and then the damned pregnancy…

 

In the end, he only let out a single, defeated word of confirmation.

 

“Unfortunately.”

 

***

 

After Draco had sat down Pansy on his sofa and put two mugs of hot tea in front of her, he sat down heavily on the chair next to her, a tired sigh escaping him.

 

“Oh wow, Draco, this is… this is a lot.”

 

The pregnant wizard could only nod his head. “It really is.”

 

However, it was like Pansy hadn’t even heard him. She just continued rambling. “A baby, huh? How far along are you? Wait, you’re still living here, so of course you’re not too far gone. When’s your due date? Oh! When did you tell Potter? He’s probably ecstatic!”

 

Draco kind of zoned out, feeling too tired to keep up the facade anymore. Like it wasn’t enough that he had to be on his feet most of the time when together with Pansy, he also had to pretend he was fine, which he was not. He was exhausted… and his body kind of hurt. Besides that he felt pretty hot. 

 

Hopefully it wasn’t a fever…

 

Suddenly Pansy started shaking his arm; she’d probably realised he wasn’t listening.

 

“Sorry, what did you say?” Draco mumbled tiredly as he rubbed a hand over his face.

 

“I said, I want to see your belly!”

 

Suddenly Draco was wide awake. He’d kept it hidden for so long, and now she wanted to see his shameful secret?

 

“I, uh, I don’t think you want to see that. It’s not a pretty sight.”

 

However, Pansy wasn’t swayed in the slightest. “Of course I want to! I wanna say hi to the little bugger!”

 

Well, there really wasn’t any way out of this situation, was there?

 

Draco reluctantly moved away some of his layers and undid the spell that made his belly seem smaller.

 

The young woman gasped in awe, which in turn made Draco flush furiously. “Don’t take too long, ok?”

 

“It’s… Oh Draco, you’re absolutely glowing,” She said in wonder, but there was also a bit of sadness in it. Then she cleared her throat and went back to her usual, sassy self. “But you’re so big! You must be just about ready to pop!”

 

Draco blushed and looked away from her line of sight. “I’m only 25 weeks. Well, about.”

 

“Merlin’s beard, Draco! You must be having twins, then!”

 

There was a beat of stunned silence between the two of them before Draco started laughing out loud. “Don’t say things like that, Pansy! I can’t even take care of one! A second baby would definitely be the end of me!”

 

They shared a laugh then, a loud and almost fake laughter that soon turned hysterical in Draco’s case.

 

Pansy’s laughter quickly died down, but Draco continued, and he soon struggled to breathe. “Easy, Draco. Take a breath for me, yeah?” she tried, surprisingly gentle and caring.

 

With Pansy’s help Draco came to breathe normally again, but Draco was far from being all smiles.

 

“Merlin, Pansy. A baby… and Potter’s baby at that!”

 

“You’re… You’re not happy, Draco?” Pansy asked as gingerly as she could, but it still came off as being a bit offending.

 

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to do anymore,” Draco said as he covered his face with his hands.

 

“Well, you still have my help. And Potter’s too, I presume.”

 

Through his covered lips, Draco muttered sadly: “... He doesn’t know.”

 

Pansy, who had been reaching for her mug of tea (which had now gone cold), started spluttering. “What the fuck, Draco! Why haven’t you told him?”

 

The pregnant wizard flinched but didn’t move his hands from his face. “He wouldn’t like it. He doesn’t like me like that, so why would he ever want a child or a family with me?”

 

This seemed to break Pansy’s heart. Draco was obviously pining for Potter, who in turn was head over heels for Draco, but Draco was too damn stubborn to accept it!

 

However, now was not the time to blow Draco’s mind. She moved to kneel in front of the pregnant man, slowly reaching out to move Draco’s hands away from his face, feeling how swollen they were.

 

“Well, if that arsehole doesn’t help out, I’ll be sure to take on his role. And then I’ll tie him by the bollocks to the Hogwarts train so that he’ll never have children again. He doesn’t deserve that chance.” The sheer determination that radiated off of Pansy was enough to make Draco let out a wet chuckle.

 

Pansy was a good friend. Draco could tell that much as he decided to open his heart and let her into his life again. He pulled her in for a hug, her face flush against his uncovered bump.

 

“Oh wow, it’s really firm! And big! It must be triplets!”

 

Well, Draco could have lived without that comment.

 

***

 

Potter kept avoiding Draco for the next few weeks. Draco was sad to not have Potter’s company, but by now he kind of had gotten used to it.

 

It was Pansy’s company that was completely new and foreign to him.

 

“Draco, you gotta move out before the babies come!”

 

Draco suddenly had the urge to go for a walk. Pansy had been going on and on about Draco having to move out, because the flat’s indoor climate wasn’t very good.

 

The walls were kind of moldy, and there were cracks in the ceiling. And his faucet was always dripping, which would definitely wake up the babies with the sounds. At least that’s what he told himself.

 

Draco had to count to ten inside himself as he tried not to rip off Pansy’s head.

 

She was kind, passionate about this situation, and she just wanted what was best for him. However, there was one thing she hadn’t taken into account:

 

“Pansy, I’m not… keeping it.”

 

The witch had been spelling the clean walls extra clean, but she stopped dead in her tracks and looked at Draco with a bewildered expression. “What do you mean you’re ‘not keeping it’? They’re your babies!”

 

It was at that moment that Draco realised he hadn’t told Pansy his plan. He sighed and went to the sofa, which he gingerly lowered himself onto, then patted the spot beside him. Pansy went there like a moth to a flame, her eyes big and confused.

 

“Pansy, I’m not exactly… dad material. My mom loved me very much, yes, but Father was… awful.” Draco couldn’t help but shudder at the mention of his own dad, who would do almost anything to save face, even curse and kill other people should they stand in his way. 

 

“I can’t do it. I can’t raise this child without its other father, and he doesn’t want to, I’m sure of it. So… I want to give it up for adoption. It’s the most humane thing to do.”

 

Draco looked down on his hands which he had absentmindedly folded on top of his belly, something he hadn’t even realised. He didn’t move them away immediately as he would have done in the past, but instead chose to let them rest there, feeling the small kicks and jabs from the inside.

 

It was frightening that they were getting stronger, but also kind of exciting. That surely meant that the baby was getting big enough to survive on its own soon and the pregnancy would end. Which would mean he would be free to live his life as he wanted, free to enjoy the things he had given up on since he found out about his pregnancy. He’d even be able to start his potions shop.

 

Most importantly, he’d be free of Potter.

 

However, as Pansy sat beside him and protested, claiming that he’d have to take care of his babies and that she would help in every way that Potter lacked, Draco could only think of his relationship to Potter.

 

Even if he loathed to admit it, Draco loved reading Potter’s letters. They weren’t clever, nor were they filled with beautiful poems or wise words. They weren’t even pretty, only filled with Potter’s chicken scratch writing that was hardly legible.

 

They were only telling Draco about his daily life, something the isolated wizard desperately needed in his own daily life, which had been absolutely dreadful.

 

But now that he had Pansy over every other day, he didn’t really need Potter that much anymore…

 

Except Draco still missed him. He really missed him, to the point where he would lie awake at night because he felt so lonely and unloved.

 

Potter didn’t love him, of course. But when they had sex, Draco could at least pretend that someone was loving him while the mix of pain and pleasure wracked his body.

 

He still received a bag of coins two or three times a week, which Draco absolutely could survive on, but… He just missed his foe-turned-fuckbuddy-turned-friend.

 

Because Potter would never, ever love the tainted ex-Death Eater Draco Malfoy, a scarred and broken body only good for shagging.

 

And if he couldn’t love Draco, he surely couldn’t love their child, either. Because if Draco was tainted, didn’t that mean that the child was tainted, too?

 

Potter would never accept that. It would be better if he never knew.

 

***

 

Draco was so tired.

 

At 30 weeks, he was getting rather big and cumbersome, which Pansy kept commenting on. She also kept insisting that there was more than one baby, which Draco flat out refused.

 

He wasn’t about to have two bastard children running around out there; one was more than enough.

 

And if it was triplets… Nope, Draco straight up rejected the idea. There was only one baby, one little sucker who was currently kicking him in the ribs every time he sat down. It got old pretty quickly.

 

He kept waddling around in his small flat, rubbing his large belly with one hand while he braced his back with the other.

 

“Draco, you really should be sitting down… All that pacing is making me stressed out.” Pansy said from her spot on his sofa, her legs crossed as she made herself comfortable with a cup of tea.

 

The pregnant man could only huff at that. “Yes, let me just sit down and get my insides beaten by someone not even born yet. Yeah, that sounds fun.”

 

Pansy’s features softened and she got up with such ease that Draco couldn’t help but envy her. She was so nimble and graceful in her movements that she looked like a fairy flittering about.

 

Meanwhile Draco was so heavy and big that he resembled a whale more than anything. He looked like he had swallowed a large pumpkin but couldn’t digest it, so it just sat in his belly and grew bigger with every day that passed.

 

It was horribly unfair she was this free and Draco just… wasn’t.

 

He couldn’t wait until the baby was born, because no one deserved this kind of pain and suffering, even with the help of loved ones. It was misery beyond anything he’d ever tried, not even the encounter in the bathroom with Potter or the loneliness he’d experienced throughout his life could compare.

 

“Draco, darling, you need to rest. I can see your swollen ankles through your socks.” Pansy drily said, and while Draco knew she was kind of joking, Draco could also see the concern in her eyes, not to mention, feel the pain in his swollen and aching feet.

 

“If I sit down it’ll just wake back up again and start kicking all over again.” Draco said with a heavy groan, but then Pansy extended her hand to him and led her to the sofa to sit down beside her, which he gingerly did.

 

“It can’t be that bad, can it?” Pansy asked with such innocence that Draco couldn’t even be angry at her. It wasn’t her fault that she didn’t have any knowledge about pregnancy.

 

“Believe me, it can,” He huffed, then slowly lifted his feet up on Pansy’s lap with a bit of difficulty so she could rub his feet. “It feels like if Hagrid was throwing a party and stepdancing for the first time. Except it’s clumsy and heavy, and I’m the only one experiencing it because it’s happening inside me.”

 

Pansy made a face at that explanation. “Oof, yeah that doesn’t sound too nice… Imagine carrying around a half-giant, though. They must be very heavy.”

 

“Oh, this almost feels like it. I just hope it won’t be too bad at the-”

 

Draco abruptly stopped himself, then looked away.

 

Having a naturally curious personality, Pansy couldn’t help but ask what was wrong, but Draco didn’t want to answer.

 

While Draco had been complaining about the pregnancy and wishing for it to end, he was dreading the actual ending. So much could happen, and he wasn’t about to go to St. Mungos. That would only make it harder to let go of the baby. Imagine if someone saw him…! It would cause a scandal with no end.

 

No, a home birth would be the best option with the least amount of unwanted eyes. He just had to keep going until then.

 

The pain would be a bitch, but he’d just be quiet or cast a silencing spell. And when the baby was out, Pansy would bring it to a Safe Haven Baby Box.

 

The end was in sight, he just had to survive.

 

***

 

Surviving was kind of easy. Potter sent money each week, Pansy came over every day to make sure he hadn’t popped yet, and Draco counted the hours until every little event.

 

It was a waiting game. And now Draco had gotten so sick and tired of it that he decided to go for a walk. He could only walk so far in his tiny flat, and sometime last night he’d realised that the floor was getting a bit worn where he walked.

 

He had no choice but to venture outside.

 

As Draco opened the door to the frightening reality outside, he had to shield his eyes from the sharp sun.

 

He knew time passed, knew it from the way his belly grew, but he hadn’t realised that time outside passed too, that the seasons changed.

 

Now it was late spring, and Draco’s dusty winter robes were way too hot to wear in the mild weather.

 

He was just about to turn around from the small distance he’d waddled down the street and coop up inside the safe space that was his flat, but then he realised that on the corner of the street, an eerily familiar figure stood and looked up longingly towards the window of his flat.

 

The figure was holding an owl, a letter and a bag that made small clinking noises as it was tied to the owl’s leg. They sent away the owl, looking at it as it flew up, up and towards Draco’s window with a small screech as if trying not to be too loud, just like its owner tried to be discreet.

 

Draco froze. He hadn’t put on a spell to conceal his belly, and if this figure was who he thought it was, he was no doubt in trouble, should he figure out his secret.

 

Once again, Draco ran. Or, as close to running as he could with his heavy body.

 

“Draco?”

 

Too late. Too late, too late, too late!

 

“Draco, stop!”

 

However, Draco didn’t stop, didn’t pause for Potter to catch up and see him.

 

If he saw…! If he knew his secret, then…!

 

Draco ran as fast as he could, and just as he was about to reach the entrance door to the building, he felt a hand grab his wrist and stop him.

 

He froze. 

 

“Draco, why didn’t you stop?” Potter panted, looking dishevelled as always.

 

However, Draco didn’t reply. He didn’t even turn around to greet Potter, his heart beating a million beats per minute, his throat dry, and his hands clammy enough that Potter could feel the sweat. 

 

“... Draco? Why won’t you look at me?” Draco could hear the hurt in Potter’s voice, and then: “... I’m sorry.”

 

That made Draco turn around to look at Potter with big, confused eyes.

 

Potter closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry for… well, I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean it, at least I think I don’t, but it’s a little hard when we don’t talk and- woah!”

 

It was at that moment that Potter had opened his eyes again and was staring down at Draco’s large belly with wide, concerned eyes, then looked away with guilt and shame. “I should have known…”

 

Draco himself let his eyes close now, shame and humiliation burning him up from the inside. “It’s… well, it’s what happens when you have unprotected sex.”

 

There was a heavy silence in the otherwise light spring air; only the chirps and songs of birds could be heard, and, of course, the hammering of Draco’s heartbeat in his ears. 

 

It was only when Potter spoke, that Draco opened his eyes again. “So… you really are taken.”

 

What?

 

“... Excuse me?”

 

“Your partner must love you a lot.”

 

Draco just looked at Potter with a confusion so great that even a confundus charm couldn’t have done it better. “Potter, what are you blabbering about?”

 

An exasperated sigh came out of Potter’s mouth as he tried to explain something that obviously pained him. “You’re obviously pregnant, but being so far along must mean that you already have another partner. And if your partner lets you be free to have sex with other people than them, he must really love you, since, y’know, he let you have sex with me.” 

 

A beat passed. Then two. And then Draco laughed. “You think I have a partner?”

 

Potter shrugged with great uncertainty, his glasses hanging off of his nose. “... Do you not?”

 

“Potter, if I had a partner, he wouldn’t let me live in a shithole.” Draco snorted, but he wasn’t quite as entertained as he was before.

 

This seemed to relieve Potter. “Ah, I see, that’s good… Wait, what? Then how come you’re pregnant?”

 

Even if Potter was an idiot, he did have a curious mind. Draco’d have to tell him.

 

“Let’s go inside.” Draco said, turning his wrist around so he could take Potter’s hand and lead them into his flat.

 

***

 

As soon as they got inside, Draco removed his heavy winter robes and sat down heavily on the sofa.

 

Meanwhile Potter only stood by the door, fidgeting with his hands and looking down.

 

“... You’re welcome to sit down. Don’t want you to fall down the stairs” Draco said after a little while, his eyebrow arched sceptically. 

 

Understanding that he had gotten permission to get closer, Potter quickly sat on the chair next to the sofa, but he was still fidgeting. He sneaked a glance at Draco’s belly every once in a while, and when he saw that Draco had seen it, he quickly turned red and looked away.

 

“... I assume you have questions.”

 

Potter immediately sat up more straight, however impossible it was. “Y-Yeah! I have loads! Like, how it is possible, how far along you are, who the other father is-”

 

Draco stopped Potter by holding up a palm. “One at a time, please. I don’t want to overload your brain-”

 

“Is it mine?” Potter interrupted, his eyes wide and filled with something Draco couldn’t quite describe. It looked like a mix between hope and longing, but that couldn’t be right, because Potter wouldn’t want a baby. Potter wouldn’t want to start a family with him. There was simply no way that would ever happen… right?

 

But the longer the pause between the two men lasted, the more Draco started to doubt himself.

 

Potter never wanted a family.

 

Not with Draco.

 

… Right?

 

“It’s not mine, then,” Potter then whispered, looking devastated. He took a deep, shuddering breath and stood up.

 

Draco could see how he looked like his world had just been destroyed in the way he carried himself, his steps heavy and shoulders hunched. “Well, congratulations. To you and your lucky partner.”

 

Potter then started to walk towards the exit, depressed form almost swaying a bit.

 

If Draco wasn’t such a coward, he would run after him. But being 31 weeks pregnant and quite, quite large, Draco couldn’t even get up from the sofa in time, not even if he wanted to.

 

He was so caught up in his head, because what he thought about Potter and Potter’s own behaviour and reaction didn’t match.

 

Potter looked ruined with guilt and sadness when he thought the baby wasn’t his. All this time, Draco had thought Potter would never want a baby, but… this reaction, it was completely opposite of what Draco had thought. In fact, it almost seemed that Potter actually wanted it.

 

If he was wrong about the baby… maybe Draco was wrong about Potter wanting him, too?

 

Draco heaved himself out of the sofa as hastily as he could, shouting out: “Wait! Potter, wait!”

 

Potter had only just gotten outside, but luckily, miraculously, he looked back. He still looked incredibly hurt, but there was curiosity in his eyes as well.

 

“It’s yours!” Draco yelled, waddling down the stairs as quickly as he could. “It was always yours!”

 

By the time Draco stood in front of Potter, he was panting and wheezing. He had strained himself, he knew that, but he had to stop Potter from leaving him.

 

“... Again. Say it again… please.” Potter said with a quiet voice, looking into Draco’s eyes with uncertainty, trying to confirm what he heard.

 

“It’s your baby. You are the other father.”

 

Potter kept looking into Draco’s eyes, shifting his gaze from eye to eye like he didn’t quite dare believe it. “Again.” He quietly begged, his expression hopeful, but so, so scared, because what if it was just a dream?

 

“It’s yours, Harry. It’s your baby.” Draco said, suddenly understanding. With a small, slightly insecure smile, he took Potter’s hand and put it on top of his belly.

 

Potter gasped when his hand touched the round bump, but he didn’t remove it. Instead he kept looking into Draco’s eyes, first disbelief, the relief, and then he let out a teary sob when the baby decided to kick right at his hand.

 

“It’s… it’s actually mine…”

 

Draco didn’t say anything, only held his breath. If he had misread the signs, if Potter didn’t want him… then he’d have ruined it all.

 

But Potter never showed anything but pure relief. He looked at Draco with such a powerful look, one that Draco now understood was love. His other hand came to rest on the back of Draco’s head, pulling them together into an embrace with a desperate grip.

 

Draco let himself be embraced, let himself feel the love his own family couldn’t even give him, and let himself let out a shuddery breath as he hugged Potter back.

 

They stood like that for a while until Draco could feel his back hurt and had to pull back. There was a glimpse of hurt in Potter’s eyes, but then he cleared his throat and said “We should probably get you back inside…”

 

Draco, who was a complete mess from all the running and big emotions, only nodded and let himself be led to his flat.

 

***

 

Draco sat heavily upon the sofa again, his body heavy and worn, but his mood much, much better.

 

“Here you go.” Potter smiled as he handed Draco a mug of tea, his other hand occupied with his own mug.

 

“Thanks,” Draco murmured, a little tired now that he had let out such big emotions.

 

“No problem.” Potter replied, and then they fell into a silence that didn’t feel heavy at all. It felt natural, like after a good cry.

 

Right until Draco said: “I’m 31 weeks.”

 

“You’re-  Oh. Right, pregnant.” Potter replied, his smile much more relaxed now.

 

“Yeah. I think, at least. It’s been a while since I visited St. Mungos…” Draco admitted, and now that he said it out loud, he realised how irresponsible he had been.

 

It made him cringe a little.

 

“You haven’t been at any other check-ups?” Potter then asked, not judgemental, but still worried.

 

Draco could only shake his head. “I wasn’t planning on keeping it. It’s… too hard, being a single parent.”

 

Potter sucked a breath through his teeth. “And… if I told you I want to be a part of my child’s life?”

 

“Then it’s yours.” Draco shrugged, blowing on his tea. He tried to act nonchalantly, but inside he was a whirlwind of emotions.

 

He’d never dreamed that he’d mean something to Potter, so his plan had always been to have someone else take the baby. If it was Potter, then there was no problem.

 

However, Potter didn’t admit defeat that easily. “What if I want you as well?

 

It was at this moment that Draco decided to look away, his eyes a little downcast, but still a shy smile played on his lips.

 

“Then I might consider it.”

 

***

 

It took one week before Draco was convinced to move in with Harry. Harry had the space, the mold at his place had been removed, and it was an actual house, not just a flat that he rented.

 

Compared to his tiny flat, Draco knew it would be a much better place for the baby to grow up. Draco’s flat was too small and moldy. If the child grew up at Grimmauld Place, they’d have the option of finding friends and bringing them home for dinner-

 

Wait, did he just imagine the future with the child he didn’t want?

 

Draco stopped dead in his seat in the rocking chair Harry had bought. When Draco first found out he was pregnant, he was in absolute mental anguish. He didn’t want the baby, wanted to abort it or give it to someone else.

 

Now he was imagining playdates and domestic life with Harry…

 

“Draco, you should go to bed.” Came Harry’s fond voice suddenly from the doorway. He was holding a baby bottle, which he was currently drying off with a dish towel.

 

The pregnant man just groaned, rubbing a hand over his face as he realised he had been spacing out again. “How long have you been standing there?” 

 

“Not long.” Harry smiled, but there was something about his smirk that Draco could see right through; he had definitely been standing there for quite some time.

 

“Uh-huh. Help me get up, please?” Draco was quite unimpressed by Harry’s lying skills, but he still extended his hands and let Harry pull him up and out of the rocking chair.

 

“You know, you could sleep in my bed tonight.”

 

Draco’s cheeks reddened. They’d decided to not sleep in the same bed, not yet at least. It was too early, and they’d just kind of gotten together recently, so they’d decided it was best for them to take it slowly. Besides, the baby would get there soon, so they’d have to get as much sleep as possible before then.

 

“I’m not giving up my mountain of sorely needed pillows to be in your arms, Potter,” Draco retorted drily, but then, with a small smug, he said: “... You should visit mine instead.”

 

This time it was Harry’s turn to get a flushed face, and flushed face he sure got.

 

“S-Sure. Yeah, I can do that. No problem.”

 

Later, they laid in bed together, clothed, but still very much close. They were facing each other, their hands entangled as they spoke softly in the darkness.

 

“You know, Draco. I never thought you would stay with me.”

 

Draco’s brow furrowed. “Why not?”

 

“I mean, I thought you had a partner. And that he got you pregnant, so you must have loved him very much if you wanted to go through a pregnancy.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I… I thought if it was my child, you’d aborted it. That you’d never want to go through this with me.”

 

A moment of silence.

 

Then Potter said: “I’ve always wanted a family. I wanted to be loved, and love in return, and with you I finally got the chance.”

 

Draco held his breath. Now was not the time to bring out the snarky remarks or rude comments.

 

“... I love you, Draco.”

 

The words were whispered, almost too quiet to be heard, so vulnerable they were.

 

Draco had to return them. He took Harry’s hands and put them on his large belly, the child waking up from the movement as they touched the dome.

 

“We love you, too.”

 

After that, there was an emotional silence in the air. Draco could hear Harry sniffle a bit, so he moved his hands from his belly and pulled a near-sobbing Harry close.

 

Not a minute passed before actual sobbing could be heard from Harry, and Draco could feel it the way the sobs wracked Harry’s body. He shushed the other wizard softly, rocking them as gently as he could with his heavy belly in the way.

 

“Thank you for being my family.” Harry sobbed as he buried his face into Draco's chest. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…!”

 

Draco pressed a kiss on top of Harry’s head. He mumbled quietly in return: “Thank you for finding me when I needed it most.”

 

***

 

“Draco, are you sure you want to do this?”

 

The pregnant wizard stood at the entrance of the tower, his hand hesitant to reach out and open the door.

 

He had thought about this many times. He’d turned it over in his head countless times, but it was only now that he realised just what he was about to do.

 

“I have to do it. He deserves to know.”

 

Harry took his hand, and together they entered.

 

Azkaban was a dreadful place, Draco’d have to give them that. In fact, when he got to the cell, he was sure that he had never smelled worse scents in his life before.

 

Then he got to Lucius’ cell, and the stench was overwhelming. It had everything to do with the figure huddled in the corner. The figure of his father.

 

It took a moment before Draco actually found his voice, even as shaky as it was.

 

“Father.” The word was short, precise, and straight to the point.

 

Of course the person in question couldn’t help but turn around to look at the strange visitor.

 

“My, my… I don’t get a lot of visitors, and especially not from my own flesh and blood…” The words were haughty and dripping with sarcasm. “What brings you here, Draco?”

 

“I…” Draco gulped. His nerves were getting the best of him, especially since the cloaked figure of his father slowly came closer. “I have news.”

 

“Good? Or… bad. Or maybe it’s both at once?” Lucius cackled, his dry voice betraying just how bad he must have had it.

 

The proud man Draco used to have such respect for, the father who wasn’t a father figure was close now, close enough to see the sharp outline of Draco’s belly. Draco could see the man’s eyes widen, and when he smiled, several teeth were missing.

 

“It’s the news of your grandchild.”

 

“My grandchild! Oh, how splendid!” Lucius clapped his hands, but it was more of a sorry sight than it was his usually graceful movements. “Let me guess, you found a nice Pureblooded man, and he’s going to give us many, many Pureblooded heirs?”

 

A chill ran down Draco’s spine. He had to scratch the insides of his hands with his nails to maintain his composure and not give in to fear. “Actually… I brought him today.”

 

Lucius' wide smile only showed more missing teeth. But when Draco motioned to Harry to come forth, his smile fell immediately.

 

“No! You cannot bring the Dark Lord’s greatest enemy into the Malfoy's pure bloodline!”

 

“He sorta already did,” Harry snorted as he made himself known. He looked mighty satisfied with himself, especially when he touched Draco’s bump possessively. “I’m the other father of this child. I don’t know if we’ll have more, but this child is not a Pureblood and never will be. So better get used to it.”

 

Draco felt confused and a bit thrown off about Harry’s behaviour, but then he found his voice again. “We’ll give this child love in ways that you never gave or even understood, regardless of their blood. Because it’s our child, and not because they’re an heir.”

 

“No! I won’t allow it!” Lucius yelled out, his true mental state finally showing its ugly head. “I forbid it, you bloody bastard!”

 

Throwing around profanities and other slurs, Lucius made a great fool of himself. It was truly sad to see how his father had spiraled into a deranged insanity, but Draco was actually kind of relieved. 

 

His father was not a good man, no. He wasn’t a good father, either. Now that Draco thought about it, did he even have any good qualities about him to begin with?

 

The pair turned around to leave,but then there was a sudden, erratic cry from inside the cell.

 

“That’s it! I’ll curse you! I’ll curse that boy and your Half-blood child, and I’ll make sure you’ll only produce Pureblooded children from now on!” Lucius screamed, holding out his hand and flicking his wrist like he was holding a wand.

 

His hand was, of course, empty, but that didn’t stop the imprisoned wizard from trying to cast an Unforgivable Curse. 

 

“Avada Kedavra!”

Draco just stood there with an unimpressed look upon his face. Nothing happened, only a screaming and panting old man who had just tried to kill him and his family.

 

“Goodbye, Father. May you rot in the hell you’ve created yourself.”

 

***

 

A groan could be heard from the bedroom where Draco was lying in bed.

 

The late spring weather had brought a specific kind of humidity and heat that Draco absolutely loathed, and at 33 weeks pregnant, Draco was a hot, sweaty mess, and it wasn’t the sexy kind.

 

Even with countless pillows and bedrest for the past few days, Draco still had swollen feet, swollen ankles, swollen eyes from all the crying, why, even his chest was slightly swollen with milk, preparing for their child’s arrival.

 

He was miserable, in anguish, and his hips and back were aching something fierce. Not to mention the weight of his belly between his thighs.

 

“Harry?” Draco whined, and to say that Harry was there in less than a minute was an understatement. 20 seconds, tops.

 

“Yes, Love?” Harry quickly came into the room, a glass of lemonade at the ready. It had been what Draco craved the most as soon as the weather turned warm, always having at least one glass within reach so that he could sip on it with an almost desperate urgency.

 

“I feel like I’m gonna explode.” Draco complained. He wasn’t crying, not yet, but he was damn close to it. “Everything hurts and I’m tired. I have to pee, but I can’t get up, and even if I do get up in time, the baby’ll kick me so hard I’ll piss myself.”

 

Harry’s concern was quickly turned into slightly entertained compassion, the ridiculous state of the situation too humorous for him to take it seriously. “I’m sure the baby’ll sleep a little longer if you walk extra quietly.”

 

A pillow was thrown directly at Harry, who let out a yelp since he was still holding the glass of lemonade. 

 

“I’m being serious! I want this baby out yesterday!” Draco cried out, his fake tears turning into real ones. “I can’t even pee when I want to go, I just… I hate it. It hate it!”

 

Even if Harry tried to comfort Draco, his partner was inconsolable. There was nothing Harry could do that would cheer him up, not even hold him, because Draco was too hot in his current state.

 

He did have an idea to distract him, though.

 

“James,” Harry suddenly said, without any warning at all.

 

“Wha…?” Draco sniffled, not quite understanding.

 

“We haven’t talked about baby names… If it’s a boy, he should be named James.”

 

Draco actually got distracted by that. He rubbed his eyes with an angry motion, then sat up properly as well as he could. Never mind the fact that he needed Harry to heave him upright, panting a bit because of the strain. “Did you get cursed, Potter? If you believe for one second I’m not going to carry on my family’s tradition of naming children after constellations, you must be crazy!”

 

Harry smirked a bit. “Oh? So what do you suggest, then?”

 

“Scorpious, for a boy. I can’t have a James run around in my family! It sounds ridiculous.” Draco snorted, his breath a little shallow now. With how little room the baby had left, Draco felt like he was always running out of breath.

 

“Of course. And if we have a girl, I want to name her Lily.”

 

Draco rolled his eyes. “Of course,” he turned it right back to Harry, mocking him slightly, but out of love. “If she’s a girl, I want to name her after my mother. She deserves that much.”

 

Harry only nodded, quickly realising that Draco was no longer crying. Instead he was sitting with his arms crossed over his big belly, looking like a big, eggbound kiwi had taken his place with how he was pouting pityfully.

 

But that didn’t matter. “As long as they’re healthy.” Harry smiled and fondly placed a kiss on Draco’s forehead. Draco quickly swatted him away, not in the mood for acts of love or touching.

 

In the end, he caught Draco’s bare arm as he realised it had something on it. The moment he realised what it was, Draco had already gotten out of Harry’s grasp. “I know, I know. It’s not pretty.”

 

The slightly faded Dark Mark was still on his arm, just like Harry’s scar was still on his forehead. They were scars from a madman who wanted to change the world for the worse, but they saved the world, made it safe, and now they were starting a family in it.

 

“I also have a mark he made,” Harry smiled, pulling up his unruly hair to show his lighting scar. “ We can be ugly together.”

 

Draco looked over at Harry with a smug grin, then spoke: “Speak for yourself. I’m gorgeous.”

 

And Harry had to give it to him. Full lips, long and shining hair, a slightly flushed complexion; Draco was beautiful to him. And it wasn’t just because he was carrying their child. “Yes, you are. You were always gorgeous.”

 

If Draco was flushed before, it was nothing compared to now, but of course Draco would never admit it.

 

***

 

The baby was growing, Draco was growing as well, but he often felt like it was too much. It was like he was just a walking incubator at this point, not wanting to do anything other than sit and brood in his bed.

 

Here he was, 34 weeks gone, 6 left, but something told Draco that there might be something wrong.

 

“Is this normal?” He asked Harry when the latter rubbed his swollen feet, always a little out of breath.

 

“I think so? Do you want to go to St. Mungos?” Harry asked back, to which Draco just shook his head.

 

He hadn’t been there since he first found out about the pregnancy, and the image of the angry healer that would meet him kept floating around in his head… 

 

Draco shuddered. It would be better to avoid it as long as possible.

 

Besides, there were so many aches and pains that had become normal to him, he could handle another one.

 

The baby decided right then and there to wake up and start kicking and punching. Draco groaned from the pain, trying to get up on his own despite knowing it was a fight he would lose.

 

“Harry, help me get up,” Draco said with irritation, his mood plummeting. “I want to walk around.”

 

“Is that wise? Shouldn’t you rest a bit more?”

 

Draco only snorted. “Please, I’m only walking around for a moment. I just feel like I have to move.”

 

They got Draco up and about after a moment. He waddled a bit around, Harry watching but pretending not to watch, when  Draco felt a sudden shift inside him.

 

It wasn’t the baby shifting, it wasn’t even a somersault, but something deeper, more intense. 

 

It felt like…

 

The sound of liquid splashing on the floor was loud, like a full bucket had just been emptied onto the floor for no reason.

 

With it, came a warm, wet sensation between Draco’s legs, and he quickly looked down, the feeling of continuous dripping from inside of him too uncomfortable to ignore. 

 

“S-Sorry, I couldn’t control it,” Draco started babbling, not realising yet what had happened. In his mind he had just pissed himself, but the weird part was, it kept coming.

 

It was Harry who was the clever one in this situation. “Draco, we gotta go.”

 

“What? Where to?” Draco asked with confusion, just standing there and leaking.

 

“Draco, don’t you get it?” Harry’s voice was kind, but firm as he placed a gentle hand on Draco’s shoulders. “That was your waters. We’re going to St. Mungos.”

 

Reality suddenly hit Draco full force, everything hitting him hard at once. “N-No, I… there’s still 6 weeks left. We don’t have the nursery ready, and we’re, we’re missing diapers. I’m not ready… We’re not ready!”

 

“Love, the baby doesn’t care about that. You’re going to give birth soon.” Harry tried to gently steer Draco towards the door, but Draco did his best to stand firm.

 

“But, but the nursery… and I didn’t even feel any pain, at least not more than usual-”

 

“We have to go. Draco, the sooner the better. We’ll figure it out at the hospital, yeah?”

 

“Right.” Draco said, but he wasn’t sure he agreed.

 

***

 

The pain decided to show up on the way to St. Mungos.

 

It got worse and worse, and by the time they arrived at the hospital, Draco could barely walk. “Harry, you have to continue without me.” Surely he wasn’t aware how dramatic he sounded, but Harry could hear it clear as day.

 

“You’re kind of the main event, I have to bring you,” Harry countered with humour in his voice, but there was concern in his eyes.

 

The baby was coming early, and that only happened when the body rejected the baby… Hopefully it was just them deciding they wanted to show up all surprise style, and not arrive on their due date.

 

“Just… get a fucking wheelchair,” Draco cursed as he kept panting. He was trying to waddle the rest of the way, but he was so tired and achy, and the pain of what he assumed was contractions didn’t help.

 

“You’re doing great, love.” Harry said as he kissed Draco’s sweaty forehead, then quickly went to get help from the healers, who was also hurrying around and wow, that sure was a lot of noise for a baby, Draco thought.

 

He had just blinked when they came back, the contraction he had experienced lasting a little longer than he had expected.

 

“This is it. You ready?” Harry asked, holding out his hand for Draco to take.

 

“Of course. How hard can it be?”

 

***

 

6 hours after arriving to the hospital, Draco was still having contractions. Even though his waters had broken hours ago, Draco was still not close to giving birth, despite having lost what felt like several liters of liquid.

 

Polyhydramnios, they had called it. Way too much amniotic fluid, too little space. Draco’s hips hadn’t widened enough in time for the birth, and with the early labour progressing so quickly, there was no way for Draco to give birth naturally.

 

“We’ll have to operate.”

 

Draco’s tired eyes looked alarmingly aware as he looked up from his labouring position beside the bed.

 

“N-No… I want it to be natural. I don’t want any more scars or marks.”

 

Draco wasn’t given a choice.

 

They quickly got him on his bed, his heavy form too tired to protest anymore, and then they wheeled him to the operation room.

 

Harry wasn’t allowed to go into the operation room, but was forced to sit outside and wait until he could see his partner and his child. 

 

Having been alone for so long, Harry had gotten used to Draco’s company quite quickly. Now that he was alone again, Harry was at a loss for what to do.

 

Out of desperation he sent a Patronus to Ron and Hermione, despite not having talked to them for months.

 

They responded minutes later that they were on their way. Despite his bravery and strong will, Harry was a nervous wreck.

 

If Draco didn’t make it, or if the baby didn’t make it… He’d be alone again, and his family would be lost.

 

In his desperation, Harry also sent a Patronus to Pansy. Draco had often spoken about her, and he felt like she should be here, too.

 

Now it was just a waiting game. Who would arrive first, his family or his friends?

 

***

 

Ron and Hermione just managed to get there in time, their faces confused and their expressions concerned.

 

“Harry! We came as fast as we could!” Hermione cried as she hugged him tightly. Ron opted for a hand on his shoulder instead, hoping it would comfort him.

 

“I know it’s been a while, but really? Malfoy?” Ron asked with a bit of scepticism, while Hermione only glared at her husband.

 

“Shush, Ron! We’re here to support Harry!”

 

“Yeah, I don’t believe that that bloke will ever be in need of our help.”

 

Harry almost wanted to smack Ron, but then Hermione butted in. “What Ronald means is that Draco will survive. He survived a wizarding war on the wrong side, he’ll survive a little c-section, too.”

 

“Blimey, Hermione, you’re just as good with words as me!” Ron exclaimed, which made Hermione actually smack him.

 

“I’m stressed out! And you’re making me even more stressed out, and-”

 

Despite the pair’s want to keep talking, Harry shushed them quickly. There was the tiniest sound of a small, gurgled cry, which soon turned a bit louder.

 

Harry’s eyes watered.

 

“That’s your baby,” Ron said with a smile. “Go get ready to meet them.”

 

Quickly letting go of Hermione, Harry went to the room where he would be getting ready to meet his child.

 

***

 

Draco was having the weirdest dream of his life. He had found home, love, and family, only to get it all ripped away from him because he hadn’t gotten checkups at the hospital.

 

It was at that moment he woke up in his hospital bed, startling awake when he realised it was true. Because when he looked down, his usually overfilled belly was empty and loose. There had been too much inside it, and now it had gotten out, and his strange belly was the only evidence that he had ever been pregnant.

 

He had to find out. Despite being scared the baby hadn’t made it, he had to ask. “The baby? Where’s my baby?”

 

His hoarse voice rang out in the room, not too loud considering he had just gotten a major surgery.

 

Still everyone heard him.

 

“Malfoy?”

 

“About bloody time.”

 

“Darling, it took forever before you woke up!”

 

The chorus of voices was too loud, which confused Draco; why were so many people around him?

 

“Draco, you finally woke up.”

 

The voice was familiar, but a little hoarse. 

 

That didn’t matter. Draco could only smile as Harry took his hand and kissed it gently. “You did well, love.”

 

It was nice to know that Draco had done well, but it would be more nice to know if the baby had done well, too.

 

“Where is the baby?” Draco asked again, to which Harry could only look over at the small bassinet looking incubator by the wall with a sad smile.

 

Words like ‘premature’ and ‘lungs not developed’ were slung around, but Draco didn’t listen. He had to see them.

 

“Woah Draco, you just had a major surgery, you can’t just get up!” Harry said as he gently pushed Draco back down in the hospital bed.

 

However, Draco wouldn’t acknowledge it. “I need to see them. I have to.”

 

It was Pansy who wheeled the small incubator over. She gave Draco a big smile, but hers was tinged with sadness, too.

 

“Here’s your baby.”

 

Draco looked over at the baby through the glass, feeling his heart sink. 

 

He had done that. He was the reason the baby was premature, because of his stubborn pride, Draco had put their baby in danger and possibly given them complications in life they could have avoided.

 

All because he hadn’t gotten help. Because he thought he could keep going on his own, which he obviously couldn’t.

 

A tear fell down Draco’s face. He hadn’t even noticed it, but the others had, and that made it quite awkward because he couldn’t  even remember the last time he had seen Granger and Weasley.

 

“Don’t you want to know the gender?” Pansy piped up, trying to disperse the tense atmosphere.

 

“Of course.” Draco nodded, his voice small.

 

It was Harry who handed him the paper with their child’s information on it.

 

“A boy…? I have a son?” Draco breathed, then looked up at Harry with a hopeful expression. “We have a son?”

 

“Yes! We’re parents now!” Harry grinned, but not without a set of watery eyes that matched Draco’s own.

 

“He’s small, but with the right treatment he’ll be fine and grow up without problems.”

 

“Of course… He’ll be fine.” Draco breathed, still looking at the incubator.

 

“We’ll be fine.” Harry said, getting closer to Draco who tried to move a bit so Harry could sit beside him on the bed.

 

They shared a tender moment, and for some reason the other people in the room had disappeared. They were probably guided out by Hermione, who was the more sensible out of all of them.

 

The kiss on Draco’s forehead was tender, and when Harry embraced Draco from the side, Draco leaned into it with a content sigh.

 

Sure, he was in pain and feeling like he had fucked up, but at least the pain was not that bad anymore, and he had people around him to help when he fixed his mistake.

 

“Oh, by the way. Draco?”

 

Draco hadn’t noticed that he was kind of drifting off. It was probably the potions he had been given, they sometimes had some weird side effects, so it was difficult to stay awake. “Hmm?”

Instead of answering, Harry put a small, elegant piece of wood on his lap. It was black at the handle, and very familiar in his hand when he picked it up.

 

“That’s…” Draco’s tired voice carried a touch of awe as he realised what it was.

 

“Yes,” Harry smiled softly, looking at Draco rather than the stick. “It’s your wand.” 

 

Draco could only stare at it with awe and fascination. When he’d sold it to the pawn shop all these months ago, he thought he’d never see it again. “The pawn shop told me someone had bought it the very same day I sold it to them… How’d you get it?”

 

It was at that moment Harry looked away with a small smile, fake-whistling like he was completely innocent. “... I have my ways.”

 

“It was you, right? You’re the one who bought it.”

 

“I wanted you to have the option of choosing your own future, in case the whole family situation wasn’t your thing. I wanted you to be able to opt out. Which, clearly, never was a choice you’d make with the way you’d been looking at me.”

 

Draco couldn’t help but laugh, which in turn made Harry laugh, too. Draco let out a giggly shushing sound: “Shh, you’ll wake up the baby.”

 

“I knew I wanted you, even back then with the wand. And with our baby boy here, I want you more than ever.”

 

“Ugh, save that for next time,” Draco snorted, smacking Harry’s shoulder.

 

“There’s gonna be a next time?” Harry lit up, to which Draco simply shoved Harry a bit with a small laugh.

 

“Let’s get through this one first.”

 

They both shared a laugh, then held each other close in a tender embrace.

 

“I love you, Draco.”

 

“And I love you, Harry.”

 

END

Notes:

This work is part of the 2026 HD MPREG Fest and the creator will be revealed on 21 June 2026.
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