A Priceless Gift

Chapter 9

Draco's mobile phone started ringing and made him jump in surprise. He was so engrossed in trying to get through the mountain of paper work that had managed to pile up that he was oblivious to anything else around him.

"Who the fuck is ringing me at this time of night?" Draco cursed as he glanced at the clock telling him it was 12.33AM. He grabbed the mobile and pushed the button. "Hello?" he asked distractedly as he continued scrawling notes in his legal pad.

"I jus' callllllllllllled... to sayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy... I looooooooooove youuuuuuuuuuu!" Harry sung down the phone in a very slurred and off-key tone.

"Harry, baby, how much have you had to drink?" Draco asked in amusement.

"No' much," Harry replied in a sing-song voice. "You shoulda' come out, honeybunch... s'fun!" Draco couldn't stifle his laugh.

"You know I had work to do, love," Draco stated.

"Work! Ya' gonna' turn inta' book or sumfin', Dray! A big... sessee... blondie... book, but still a book..." Harry stumbled over his words.

Draco shuddered at the shortening of his name and then had to snort when he realised his boyfriend had just called him a sexy blond... book? Draco shook his head. Harry and alcohol did not mix. "Are you having fun with the Weasleys?"

"I 'ad some drinks for ya'," Harry said proudly. "To cel... cebrel... breleclate... cel... eb... rate the pregan... preng... pregacy...preg... the baby..."

"I can hear that," Draco said dryly.

"Fred an' George have been buyin' me lots! All diff'nt sorts 'n colours! Int tha' nice, honey... love... sweetie?" Harry cooed drunkenly down the phone. "Misser Weasley got me a cigar! For the baby an' all..."

"What?!" Draco snapped. "I hope you didn't smoke it! I refuse to kiss someone who tastes like a soiled ashtray."

"Ummmm..." Harry slurred. "I don' really 'member what I did with it... Mighta' smoked' it... Oh, oh! I looooooooove this song! I'm too sessee for thi' shirt; too sessee for thi' shirt so sessee it -"

"Harry, love, are you in a public place?" Draco asked, hoping the answer would be in the negative.

"Yeah! 'm at the bar! 'spacked with people!" Harry enthused and Draco rubbed at his forehead and sighed.

"Put Mr Weasley on the phone, baby," Draco requested. Draco could hear some fumbling on the other end of the line. He allowed himself a small groan in frustration. Not only was Harry extremely drunk, he had been mixing any number of different sorts of drinks, he was very prone to hangovers and to top it all off, was allergic to hangover potion. Draco had learned early on in their relationship from Ron and Hermione that when Harry downed a hangover cure, he broke out in large, painful purple spots all over his body and Draco had since been loathed to try and administer it to his boyfriend in any capacity.

"HELLO DRACO?"

"You can speak a little bit quieter, Mr Weasley," Draco told him. "Just speak like you are talking to me face to face. A mobile is just like any other Muggle phone."

"Is that better?" Mr Weasley asked in a lower voice, but still louder to be heard over the music.

"Much," Draco confirmed. "Sir, how much has Harry had to drink?"

"Quite a bit, unfortunately, son," Mr Weasley said wryly. "It's a shame you couldn't join us! Harry's had quite a good time celebrating your impending fatherhood. The more intoxicated he got, the more he mentioned your name, which then turned to rather, ah, creative pet names." Draco rolled his eyes.

"I wish I could have come, but I've just had so much work to catch up on. Thanks for taking Harry out for a few drinks though. Do you think you will be bringing him home soon?" Draco asked and he could hear Harry singing 'I Love the Nightlife' from somewhere nearby Mr Weasley.

"Um," Mr Weasley said with a laugh. "Oh dear, he's trying to get his shirt off! I think we'll have to get him home sooner rather than later... Harry, no! That table is unsteady! Don't -" And the line went dead as Mr Weasley lost his reception.

"Oh shit," Draco groaned.

o o o o o

Draco woke up on the couch with a start when their Floo roared to life, and he immediately grabbed his wand in reaction. He sat up rigidly and rubbed his tired eyes. He must have fallen asleep waiting for Harry.

Fred appeared first, followed by his brother, and then a few moments later Mr Weasley holding up a semi-conscious Harry, who had a large bruise on his cheek which looked suspiciously like he had been smacked in the face.

"Who hit him?!" Draco demanded and Fred and George sniggered.

"Oh, it was this HUGE -" George started.

"MASSIVE!" Fred cut in.

"The bastard!" Draco cried. "Did you get his name? Description? Phone number? I'm going to sue him!"

"Calm down, Malfoy," Fred snorted in amusement.

"Harry tripped over his feet from, what he would call, dancing, and his face connected with the corner of a table on the way down," George explained and grinned. "He even knocked himself out for a few moments!"

"Why are you fucking laughing?" Draco snapped and stalked over to where Mr Weasley was lowering Harry down on the loveseat. "Shit, he really did a job on it, didn't he?" Draco hissed as he lightly feathered his fingers over Harry's injured cheek.

"Just whack a potion on it! He'll be as good as new in no time!" George cried and slapped Draco on the back.

"I don't have anything strong enough to heal a bruise like this!" Draco snarled, and George took a step back in response.

"You'd best not look at his hip or his wrist then," Fred commented with a shrug. Draco spun around and bent down over Harry, reefing up his shirt to examine his hip which also had a large, angry-looking bruise surrounded by a couple of small cuts. Draco whimpered at the sight of it and then gingerly picked up Harry's wrist and saw it was swollen and turning a deep purple around the base of the thumb.

"WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO HIM?!" Draco screeched and then turned on Fred with a sneer, poking in firmly in the chest. "AND HOW DO YOU KNOW WHAT HIS HIP LOOKS LIKE?!"

Fred stepped back and held up his hands in surrender, while his brother stepped in between him and the angry blond as a shield.

"Come on now, Draco," Mr Weasley said in hopes to placate Draco. "It was just as George said, Harry tripped and fell and all his injuries are from that. We thought it was just his cheek he had injured, but when we got out of the pub, Harry was nearly in tears saying he was hurting. We weren't too sure what he was referring to because he was rather intoxicated, so we asked him where he was hurting and he pulled up his shirt and pulled down the waist band of his pants to show us his hip. When he did this, he winced again at the pressure on his wrist."

"I'm going to have to take him to Emergency at St Mungo's!" Draco snapped.

"We were going to do that, but we knew you would want to know what's going on," Mr Weasley explained calmly. Draco looked torn between arguing more or agreeing, but Mr Weasley continued before he could answer. "Molly has an array of Healing potions at home. I'd be happy to call her through the Floo and get her to come see to Harry's injuries. It would avoid a trip the Emergency Room."

Draco sighed and nodded reluctantly. "Ok, thank you," he said.

"Boys, go and call your mother," Mr Weasley requested. "And, please, do not go into an animated discussion about what happened. I don't want her coming in with guns blazing and upsetting everyone, including Harry."

"Dad, Harry's not cons-" Fred started.

"Just go!" Mr Weasley said harshly and shooed his sons away.

Draco watched as Fred and George moved over to the fireplace to contact Mrs Weasley. He sat down next to Harry and smoothed Harry's hair away from his sweaty face. Harry was now completely out of it and was even snoring slightly with deep, raspy inhalations, which he only did when he was really exhausted.

"Has he been sick at all?" Draco asked Mr Weasley, and wasn't able to hide the tiredness in his voice.

"No, son, but he was feeling queasy after his fall and there were a few close calls when we thought he might lose his dinner, but pulled himself together each time, giggling all the while, the silly bugger. Ron did mention to me that Harry is susceptible to raging hangovers. Perhaps you should try and give him a potion now. He should swallow if you rub his throat," Mr Weasley suggested. Draco exhaled heavily and raked his fingers through his hair, suddenly feeling completely exhausted and sleepy. He realised fleetingly that he needed slap Ron for not telling his father Harry couldn't take hangover potion. He could only cringe when he thought of what condition Harry would be in if Mr Weasley had attempted to give Harry the potion prematurely.

"He's allergic to it," Draco mumbled. "I should've come out; I could've stopped all this."

Mr Weasley squeezed Draco's arm. "Possibly, but your work was your priority. Harry told us how important it was and how busy you've been," he said with a smile, completely oblivious to how much his words cut through Draco's heart.

Before Draco could respond, the twins jumped back from the fireplace as if they had been burnt and Mrs Weasley gracefully stepped out with a basket full of multicoloured potions. She immediately turned and pinned her sons and her husband with a fearsome glare.

"I will deal with you three when we get home," Mrs Weasley bit out before turning her attentions to Harry and Draco. "Oh, the poor dear. You must be beside yourself with worry, Draco," Mrs Weasley gushed and started tending to Harry's injured cheek first.

"Can you fix it, Mrs Weasley?" Draco asked.

"Oh no, dear, I can't completely fix it, I'm not a Healer. But I can take away the bruising and ease the pain; however he will still be uncomfortable and achy where his injuries are for a few days while they heal internally. As for the inevitable hangover..." she turned to again glare at her family. "You lot knew Harry wasn't a heavy drinker and suffers immensely if he drinks. Using this as a source of your amusement is abominable! Draco is extremely busy with his work commitments, and he entrusted you to ensure Harry was ok! I hope you are happy with yourselves, because you failed miserably in your duties!" The Weasley males had the decency to hang their heads in shame.

Why is every suddenly so aware of my work habits? Draco thought in irritation. If one more person implies I'm a workaholic, I'm going to hex them!

"What's more, Harry and Draco have a baby on the way, and you three shouldn't have been encouraging Harry to drink so much!" Mrs Weasley continued and Draco was amazed she could tend expertly to Harry's injuries as well as lecture at the same time.

"We were celebrating!" Fred protested.

"Yeah! If he can't have a decent drink to celebrate becoming a father, then when can he?" George piped in and again, Draco took this comment personally and narrowed his eyes at the latter Weasley twin. Was he implying that Draco was in poor form not joining them for a drink to celebrate the pregnancy? Harry had certainly seemed bothered by the same thing the night before...

"Haven't you two heard of moderation?" Mrs Weasley snapped. "Didn't you think Draco would be sitting at home concerned of Harry's progress in your presence?" More guilt. Draco had barely given Harry a second thought and hadn't even considered it would be Harry calling him when the phone rang.

Draco suddenly faked a wide, loud yawn and made a show of rubbing his eyes in hopes they would take a hint and leave him to care for Harry himself.

"Oh, you poor dear, you must be exhausted working so hard all night," Mrs Weasley tutted. "Harry's all set now. Do you need a hand to get him up to bed?"

"No, I'm fine to carry him up. Thank you for coming over so late, Mrs Weasley," Draco said graciously and gave her a hug.

"Nonsense, you don't need to thank me, dear," Mrs Weasley scoffed and packed up her potions. "You make sure you get plenty of sleep and do give us a quick call tomorrow to tell us how Harry is faring. You lot, get your arses into that Floo right now. I won't hear another word until we're home."

Draco scratched the back of his neck as he waved goodbye to the Weasley family and watched them disappear. Draco turned and looked down at his boyfriend. "I can almost feel the headache radiating off you, Potter," Draco mumbled as he lifted Harry into his arms. "Come tomorrow, you're never going to want to touch an Irish Coffee for fear of another hangover."

o o o o o

"Where is he?" Hermione asked the following morning after Draco had finished telling her what Harry got himself into during the previous night.

"Two short steps from Hell, I'd imagine," Draco said sarcastically.

Hermione shook her head and smiled. "I don't doubt that," she agreed.

"He's upstairs, curled up in a ball in our bed quilt - which, incidentally, I am going to have to either replace or have industrial strength cleaning administered to it - on the floor, in our pitch black bathroom with his head in the toilet bowl. If you have morning sickness right now, it's probably not a good idea to go anywhere near the bathroom," Draco warned.

"Awwww, the poor baby! Why aren't you up there with him?" Hermione scolded.

"I will go up again soon," Draco told her. "I had to come down and get some fresh air. The smell, sight, and sound of him spewing like I never thought a human being could nearly sent me into my own fit of heaving."

"Oh, Draco! He needs some comfort," Hermione argued. "When I spoke to Molly this morning she told me Harry might even have a concussion from his fall!"

"I was not in a position to help him immediately! What good would I have been to him if I was sick myself? I've taken something for it and it's just starting to work now; hence my reason for going up again to him soon. I'm well aware he needs comfort, Hermione. You don't need to tell me how to take care of my boyfriend!" Draco snapped and Hermione stepped back in surprise.

"I'm sorry, Draco. I wasn't implying that at all," Hermione replied and touched his forearm in a soothing gesture.

Draco closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. "No, I apologise, Hermione. I was out of line. I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. I'm just a bit edgy today."

Hermione smiled softly at him and didn't say anything more about it. "How is Harry's head?" she asked to change the subject.

"He's in a lot of pain. He drank an awful lot last night; just about everything Fred and George handed to him, apparently, so he mixed drinks which is why he is so sick this morning. He would have a bad enough headache from the hangover, but because he hit his head as well, it's going to be a lot worse. I'm pretty sure it's not concussion, though. I have a suspicion he got so pissed because he was still upset at me. We had a bit of a tiff the night before last," Draco explained and started up the stairs with Hermione in tow. "It's really not a good idea for you to come up," he insisted.

"I'm fine, Draco. I've not thrown up once yet," Hermione assured him.

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you," Draco answered with a shrug. "I am sort of hoping he's vomited himself empty by now," he admitted sheepishly.

"I can go in to him if you can't stomach it," Hermione offered. Draco mentally smacked himself when he seriously considered her offer.

"Don't be ridiculous," Draco scoffed. "Nothing would stop me helping Harry." Hermione raised her eyebrows and Draco knew immediately she had detected he was trying to convince himself of the fact rather than her.

They stepped into the bedroom and found that Harry had made it back to the bed. He was curled up in a tiny ball with his head under Draco's pillow, and he had his own pillow cradled against his stomach. A quick survey of the room confirmed to Draco that there were no piles of puke he had to clean up, and that suited him fine, though the lingering smell alerted him to just how sick Harry was.

"How are you feeling now, babe?" Draco asked quietly, sitting down next to Harry. Hermione retrieved the quilt from the bathroom and Draco and pulled it up around Harry.

"There's nothing left!" Harry moaned painfully, his voice hoarse.

"Huh?" Draco asked.

"To throw up! I just keep heaving and heaving and it hurts like fucking hell!" Harry croaked. "Please kill me..."

"Oh, baby, if I could take all the hurt away, I would," Draco murmured sympathetically. He grabbed a vial of blue potion from their bedside table and pulled the stopper out. "Try and drink this for me, sweetie. It's a pain potion. It won't help the sick feeling, but it might help your head and hip."

"Hip?" Hermione asked suspiciously but Draco waved her quiet. "Ah, it might not be a good idea to give him that," she warned but held up her hands defensively when Draco glared at her again. He eased the pillow away from Harry's head and Harry slapped his hand over his eyes at the sudden infiltration of light and then sobbed when he came in contact with the wound on his head.

Draco made a helpless noise and reached down and plucked Harry's t-shirt from the floor. He placed it gently over Harry's face so Harry could take his hand away. "Drink, baby," Draco urged and held the vial to Harry's lips. As soon as the liquid hit the back of Harry's throat, he gagged and sputtered the blue potion all over the bed sheets which was immediately followed by a stream of saliva and bile as Harry tried forcefully to vomit again. Draco hastily shoved the vial back onto the bedside table and grabbed some tissues to wipe Harry's mouth.

"It's unlikely he'll be able to keep anything down for awhile, Draco," Hermione said and Draco shot her another angry look.

"Expert in the bleeding obvious, Hermione?" Draco snapped and Hermione just folded her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. "Fuck, sorry. I'm just trying to help him. I hate when I can't make him better.

"Dying," Harry rasped and curled away from the mess he'd made in disgust. "No drink. Ever." Draco stifled a smile and whipped out his wand and relieved Harry of the mess.

"Until the next time, Harry love?" Hermione teased

"Fuck... off..." Harry grunted and disappeared back under the pillow and covers.

Hermione laughed. "Poor baby," she cooed.

"Hurts," came Harry's muffled whimper.

"What hurts, love?" Draco asked and patted Harry's back and bum through the thick covers, more to just let Harry know he was there rather than an attempt to comfort him.

"What doesn't?" Harry answered miserably. He pulled the covers down from his face a couple of inches so that only his hair and one eye could be seen. "Can you rub my tummy?"

Hermione burst out laughing. "Harry, that is the most pathetic sight I've ever seen! I'm disgusted with myself for thinking it's adorable!"

"Leave him alone," Draco insisted. "He is adorable. Of course I'll rub your tummy, babe."

"You pair are nauseatingly cute. Do you realise how many women are going to be a pool of mush when you two step out with your wee baby?" Hermione said wistfully and got a dreamy look on her face. "Anyway, I'm going to leave you to it! I just wanted to see how you were, Harry." She came over and kissed the top of Harry's head and then kissed Draco's cheek. "Don't forget to call Molly, Draco. She's waiting on an update on Harry. I'll be in touch later and we'll arrange to have lunch or something."

Draco waved to Hermione as she closed the door behind her and turned back to Harry. "How about that tummy -" he stopped when he realised Harry had dozed off. Draco smiled and ran his fingers through Harry's messy hair lovingly. "Never mind, gorgeous, there'll be plenty of time for rubs anywhere you like..." he whispered, kissing his fingers and pressing them against Harry's forehead.

o o o o o

Later that afternoon, Draco was heating a casserole in the oven and writing a quick letter to his best friend, Blaise Zabini, at the kitchen table when Harry came shuffling gingerly down the stairs holding his hip. "Hey, you're awake," Draco said softly. "How did you sleep? Still sore, love?"

Harry pushed another chair over next to Draco and eased himself into it and rested his head on Draco's shoulder. "It just aches a bit, I'm fine," Harry said, his voice still husky.

"Oooo, loving the sexy porno voice," Draco purred and Harry laughed.

"I think I'd move more like a geriatric than a porn star right now. Not much of a turn on," Harry pointed out.

"You could have no legs and still be a turn on for me," Draco replied, leaning in to suck on Harry's earlobe. "Are you going to tell me now what the hell you got up to last night? I want to hear your version. I leave you in the care of the Weasley Twins for a few hours and you come back black and blue and semi-conscious!"

Harry sat up and gave Draco an adorable, sheepish look. "I don't really remember..."

"Ok, just at least tell me you didn't smoke that cigar," Draco bargained.

"Cigar?" Harry asked with a frown.

"Do you remember anything about last night?" Draco asked in amusement.

"Not really," Harry laughed. "That's probably a good thing. I suspect I did some embarrassing things. It was most likely best you weren't there, baby," he said lightly.

"About that, Harry," Draco started but Harry waved him quiet.

"It's fine," Harry said shortly. "What's for dinner?"

"You're hungry? That's good," Draco said, happy to hear Harry was feeling better. "I'm just reheating a casserole we had in the freezer. I wasn't sure if you wanted anything."

"Yeah, maybe not too much, but I'm definitely hungry," Harry answered and winced again as he shifted in his chair.

"Your hip is really bothering you, isn't it?" Draco noted. He put his quill down and pulled Harry's t-shirt up and eased the waist band of his trousers down to examine the injury. "It's still a little swollen but no bruises or cuts, thankfully. Molly did a good job. Do you want me to rub some more of that potion on it?"

"It can't hurt, I suppose. Thank you," Harry agreed with a smile.

"Do you know where it is?" Draco asked and Harry shook his head. "That means I have to get off my arse and find it, doesn't it?"

"Yep," Harry said and grinned cheekily at Draco.

"I'm only doing this because I love you," Draco huffed and reluctantly got up from his chair.

"I know. I love you too," Harry murmured. Draco retreated upstairs, and Harry had a look at the letter Draco was writing. When Draco came back, Harry had a fierce frown on his face. "Blaise wants to come stay and you didn't tell me?"

Draco sighed. "I only got his Owl yesterday. I didn't have a chance to tell you." This placated Harry a bit and his face relaxed. "Plus, he does want to come stay, but he doesn't know when yet. I was just telling him it was alright. I was going to ask you before I sent it, of course, but there was the little issue of you being unconscious for most of today."

Harry shot him a feeble look and bit his thumb nail. "Sorry. I'm still feeling a bit fragile, so I apologise in advance if I snap at you for anything."

"Alright, I forgive you in advance. But that doesn't give you licence to be a shit just because. I'll withhold sexual privileges if you think you can use this forgiveness to your advantage," Draco warned.

"You sound too much like a lawyer when you talk like that," Harry complained and put his head down on his folded arms.

"Hey, don't you go to sleep. I want to put this salve on," Draco said and Harry lifted his head again. "Hold your shirt up for me." Harry did as he was asked and Draco pulled Harry's pants down again.

"You don't have cold hands, do you?" Harry asked quickly. Draco sighed impatiently, but put the vial on the table again and rubbed his hands together and blew on them. Harry smiled. "Thank you."

Draco poured some of the liquid on his palm and started rubbing it gently on Harry's hip. Harry gritted his teeth at first, but Draco was so gentle, he didn't need to worry. It actually felt quite nice and Harry dropped his head onto the back of the chair and closed his eyes.

"HARRY!" Draco cried and Harry started.

"What?"

"I'm here nursing your wounds and you're getting a hard-on?" Draco laughed.

"Your hands are rubbing in the vicinity of my dick. What do you expect?" Harry scoffed.

"Well, yeah, I suppose," Draco agreed. "Want me to take care of it?"

"Maybe later," Harry said dismissively.

"Harry, I want to talk about this thing with my work. You seem upset..." Draco broached and Harry pulled his shirt down, getting up.

"I said its fine, Draco," Harry replied. "When will dinner be ready?"