A Priceless Gift

Chapter 12

Harry and Draco had spent the rest of the afternoon in relative silence. Harry knew something was bothering Draco, but he couldn't figure out what, and Draco didn't want to say anything in case Harry did have a problem with taking care of him.

They finished up dinner and Harry pulled out his wand and cleared the dishes magically. Draco frowned slightly at him as Harry rarely resorted to magic for cleaning purposes.

"It's early, but I think we should have a shower, snuggle up in bed, and have a talk. What do you think?" Harry asked gently but pointedly. Draco sighed and nodded reluctantly.

Nothing else was said while they took a shower together and got ready for bed. Harry pulled back the covers and climbed into the bed. As he waited for Draco to finish brushing his teeth, an idea jumped into Harry's head. He got back out of bed and went searching for something downstairs.

Just as he was coming back to the bedroom, he heard the toilet flush and Draco emerged from the bathroom rubbing his back with a grimace on his face. Draco frowned in confusion at the item in Harry's hand. Harry walked over to the bed and deposited it on the floor next to Draco's side of the bed.

"A bucket?" Draco asked with a shake of his head.

"Well, it's getting cold in the mornings and I don't really want you sitting around on the cold bathroom floor for ages if you are sick again. You can stay warm this way, and if you wake up with really bad nausea, like you have been, you won't have to worry if you're going to make it to the toilet in time," Harry explained as he climbed back into bed. He settled with his back resting against the headboard and smiled at Draco. "Is your back sore?"

Draco nodded slightly and then stood staring at the bucket for a few moments, biting his lip, and it looked to Harry like he was going to cry. The telltale heavy swallowing and sniffling followed and Harry knew tears were inevitable. "Hey..." Harry said softly as he climbed out of bed once again and went over and engulfed Draco in a hug. Draco put his head on Harry's shoulder and Harry could feel the wetness of Draco's tears soaking through his pyjama top. "Are you in pain? Tell me, love. Or is it the bucket? It's ok if you don't want to use it, I understand. I just thought it might be more comfortable for you."

"No, Harry that's not it," Draco sobbed, not really understanding how he got to the point of crying. "You don't know how much your thought means to me."

"Then why the tears, love?" Harry coaxed.

"I feel guilty because I thought the reason you fainted at the Healer's was because you panicked about having to take care of me, and I realise now that you do nothing but care for me, Harry, and I thought those horrible things and doubted you!" Draco's tears were flowing freely now. Harry slowly led him over to bed. He helped Draco get in and climbed in next to him and pulled the warm covers over them. Harry wrapped his arms securely around Draco and kissed his forehead.

"Draco, sweetie, please don't feel guilty. I hate seeing you upset like this. You're a bit more emotional than usual, but try not to be upset. I can understand how you might have thought that, but I promise from the bottom of my heart that I will continue to take care of you until the day I die. What is it they say? 'In sickness and in health, til death do us part'? I have no problems looking after you while you're ill with this pregnancy. Well, I admit, I'm the teeniest bit frightened about the mood swings," Harry teased. Draco chuckled weakly and sniffled. Harry grabbed some tissues from the box next to the bed and gave them to Draco. He then moved a hand to Draco's back again and started kneading the muscles Draco had been rubbing at earlier.

Draco's eyes flutters shut at the relief Harry's fingers brought. "But I don't understand why you fainted, Harry. You went as white as a sheet right before you did, and you were breathing deeply," Draco said in a tiny voice.

"I panicked, Draco, but not over having to take care of you. I panicked because I wasn't expecting to find out so many things about our baby so soon. It was unnerving for me to hear from Jenny that just because you have Couvade Syndrome, that writes the baby's strengths and weaknesses. I know now after thinking about it all afternoon that she didn't exactly say it was a given. But you are a very strong wizard, Draco, and it goes without saying that the baby is bound to inherit your magical strengths. I guess for a tiny moment I worried that there wouldn't be any room for the baby to inherit any of my strengths and weaknesses," Harry admitted with a sigh. Draco pulled out of Harry's arms and sat up in bed and looked intensely into Harry's eyes.

"Harry love, magical strengths go nothing towards personality, like Hermione said. Believe it or not, most of my magical strengths were inherited from my father, but my personality is more like my mother's because she was the one who spent time with me and brought me up, basically. I was just the token heir to my father, but Mum raised me, and I turned out how I am today because of the love she gave me. This baby is not going to be a little clone of me just because my magical signature is strongly linked to him or her. Sure, they are going to more than likely have some of my strengths magically, but they are also going to have some of Hermione's, meaning he or she will probably be a smart little cookie. But on top of all that, our baby is going to have your love and influence from you as their other daddy and, Harry, you are the most loving, caring person I know, and our baby is going to grow up with that, and that is going to be one of the most important factors that makes our son or daughter who they are," Draco declared passionately. Some tears escaped Harry's eyes and dripped onto his cheeks and Draco reached up and brushed them away.

"We're really going to have a son or daughter, aren't we?" Harry choked out with a smile. "We're going to have a baby together." Draco just grinned widely at him and pounced on Harry with a hard kiss.

Despite going to bed early, they didn't get to sleep until the early hours of the morning after making love for hours before finally collapsing into each others arms, exhausted and sleepy.

o o o o o

Monday morning, Draco was back at work, and the minute he stepped into his office, he was practically accosted by Grace telling him he had to go to the blue conference room immediately because the senior partners wanted to meet with him.

Thankfully he had vomited himself almost completely empty that morning and was now only left with a mild, but tolerable nausea which may just be because Harry hadn't coaxed him to eat something after being sick like he had the other mornings.

He did, however, have a raging headache and the last thing he wanted was to be dragged over the coals by The Bosses. He really hoped it wasn't something to do with abandoning the meeting that day; then he would be forced to admit to the Couvade Syndrome, and Draco shuddered when he thought what the reaction to that might be.

Draco stopped outside the closed door of the conference room and drew a deep breath in a last effort to calm his stomach before pulling his shoulders up and stepping confidently into the conference room. He hoped his gulp was neither visible nor audible when he was met with the sight of the five senior partners and Bill sitting on one side of a round table and a single, uncomfortable-looking chair on the other side of the table.

What the fuck have I done?! Draco thought desperately to himself. In his whole time working with the firm, he had never once been reprimanded or even looked at negatively! Surely running out of a monthly meeting to vomit wasn't worthy of this? Draco was suddenly horrified to realise that the thick feeling in his throat was a warning of tears and he had to bite the inside of his lip to stop the urge to cry like a child about to be scolded. What the bloody hell is wrong with me?

"Take a seat, Mr Malfoy," one of the partners said and indicated to the lonesome seat. Draco inclined his head in acceptance and hoped his exterior was remaining as calm as he was trying to make it. They could at least have given him a more comfortable chair; his back was killing him again.

"We're sure you have some notion of why we have asked you to meet with us this morning," the only female said with a smile that did nothing but unnerve Draco further.

Draco cleared his throat. "No ma'am, I'm sorry, but I have no idea what this may be about," he said, keeping eye contact.

"Are you feeling better? We were all quite concerned when you were taken ill at the meeting the other day," she questioned and Draco thought it sounded like genuine sympathy in her voice.

"Yes ma'am, thank you for asking. I apologise for leaving the meeting so abruptly," Draco said and felt his cheeks burn slightly.

The senior partner called Victor laughed deeply. "No need to apologise, young man. It happens to the best of us. Bill informed us of just how ill you were that day." Draco just gave a slight smile in response and glanced briefly at Bill.

"Perhaps we should just cut to the chase?" Bill asked. "You lot are making him nervous," he chuckled. Draco cleared his throat again and shifted in his seat, but gave no other indication that he was nervous.

"Very well. I'll do the honours, shall I?" the lady asked and received murmurs of agreement. "Mr Malfoy, your work is exceptional, and you have been nothing but an asset to the firm since you started. Not only have you taken on numerous additional cases that none of your colleagues would admit to not wanting to touch with a ten foot pole, but your court presence is remarkable. You success rate in settled cases almost triples the cases you have lost and your work commitment is of a much higher standard than we would anticipate from someone your age. It is our absolute pleasure to hereby extend our offer to promote you to fellow senior partner."

Draco suddenly felt like someone had ripped the floor out from under him and tipped ice down his back all at the same time. He felt a warm flush creep into his cheeks and he coughed to try and clear the lump that felt like it has taken residence at the back of his throat.

No, no! This wasn't how he was supposed to feel! He was supposed to be ecstatic and accept their offer immediately and bask in the congratulatory slaps on the back! He wasn't supposed to have those niggling guilty butterflies flapping around in his stomach; he wasn't supposed to hesitate! He wanted this! He wanted this more than anything!

More than... anything? Draco thought to himself. He cleared his throat once more and heard someone say his name, drawing him out of his reverie.

"Um, s... sorry?" Draco stammered to buy himself some time.

"If this is not suitable for you -" Victor said with a small frown of confusion.

"NO!" Draco interrupted and the regained his composure. "I apologise. It was just a slight shock, that's all."

Victor's face relaxed again. "Oh, understandable, my boy!"

"So, you accept?" the lady prodded and Draco glanced between her and Bill, who was smiling encouragingly at him and nodding.

"May I have some time to consider the offer?" Draco requested politely, but inside he wanted to scream in frustration.

"Of course," Bill interjected. "Take as long as you need. Discuss it with Harry and don't make any rash decisions. This will be a massive commitment to take on; you need to be one hundred percent certain." Draco merely nodded and had to mentally force himself from putting a hand on his stomach in attempt to calm the storm that seemed to have erupted inside of him.

"Is... is that all then?" Draco asked and hoped he didn't sound rude.

"Yes, that's all," the lady confirmed and stood first, closely followed by the men. Draco reached out and shook her hand firmly. "You'll let us know your decision?"

"I won't delay you any longer than necessary," Draco replied as he shook the remaining hands held out to him.

o o o o o

Harry stirred the pasta sauce before dipping the spoon in to taste it. "Hmmf, pepper..." he muttered to himself, added a little bit more of the seasoning, and stirred it in. He heard the front door open, close, and a few moments later, Draco dragged himself into the kitchen looking completely run ragged. He dumped his briefcase by the door, shrugged off his jacket, dropped it on the breakfast bar, kicked off his shoes, and yanked off his tie all before he even reached the kitchen table. He slumped heavily into one of the dining chairs, which screeched on the tiled floor and eased his pounding head into the crook of his arms with a weary sigh.

"Hard day, baby?" Harry asked. He came over to stand behind Draco and started massaging Draco's shoulders.

"You have no idea," came Draco's muffled response. "Don't stop. Feels nice." Harry moved one hand up and started slowly rubbed the nape of Draco's neck and moved further up to massage his head. It didn't take long for Draco to be reduced to whimpering small contented noises.

Harry quietly summoned a strong headache potion and pulled the stopper out with his teeth. He sat in the seat next to Draco and urged Draco to lift his head. When Draco looked at Harry, Harry frowned in response.

"You look like hell," Harry commented. "You're as white as a ghost, your eyes are all red and they have dark smudges under them. You're your own worst nightmare. You'll faint if you look in the mirror.

"What the hell happened at work today? Is the sickness wearing you thin?" Harry handed Draco the potion and watched as Draco downed it in one shot and mutely handed the vial back to Harry.

"No, I didn't feel overly bad today," Draco mumbled, head falling back onto his arms. "I... they... they offered me the promotion to senior partner, Harry." Draco gazed up at Harry to gauge his boyfriend's reaction.

"Oh my god, Draco! That's fantastic! This is exactly what you wanted! I'm so proud of you! When does it all start?" Harry squeezed Draco tightly in excitement.

Draco sighed. "I didn't accept it," he mumbled.

"WHAT?!" Harry screeched. "You... you... this is all you've worked for these past few months! Why didn't you?!"

"I asked for some time to consider it," Draco explained.

"Why do you need time?" Harry asked incredulously.

Draco sat back and ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "I'm not really sure!" he admitted. "I don't know if I still want the promotion anymore..."

"Draco..." Harry started, not quite sure where to go from there.

"At lot has changed since... well, before. The promotion doesn't seem so important anymore in the greater scheme of things," Draco said.

"Is this because I've been complaining about missing you?" Harry asked.

"You've hardly been complaining, Harry. Everything you've said has been completely within reason. You're allowed to voice concerns over wanting more time with me. I've only recently come to realise that my workload has been ridiculous," Draco said with a humourless laugh.

"You're a hard worker, love," Harry told his boyfriend with a smile. "No one blames you for that. You deserve this promotion. You should take it."

"That hasn't got anything to do with why I don't want to take it," Draco said and took hold of Harry's hand.

"Then what is it? Talk to me," Harry urged. "This is a huge thing and I don't want you tackling the decision on your own."

Draco smiled at Harry. "The baby, love," Draco said softly. "I want to be the best father I can and I won't be able to do that with responsibilities from the firm as a senior partner. If I take this promotion, it will mean more cases, more long hours, more evenings spent at the office, and less time for you and the baby when he or she comes. That's just not worth it to me. I want to see our son or daughter take their first step, speak their first word, have their first pee in the potty. I fully intend to be that proud dad who stands in the front row with the video camera while their child plays a carrot in the school play or rings our family and friends at five am to gush over his or her first bit of accidental magic. Work just doesn't seem too important to me, anymore."

"Oh Draco," Harry sighed and grabbed Draco in a tight hug.

"I know I obsessively had my heart set on this partnership only a few short weeks ago, but that was before Hermione offered us this amazing gift that was quite literally impossible for us before," Draco finished and closed his eyes.

"Will you at least take a few weeks to think about things, darling?" Harry requested. "This promotion is something you've worked towards for years now and I don't want you to feel cheated later down the track if you realise what you're giving up. Just a few weeks thought, yeah?"

Draco pulled back and nodded in agreement, though at that moment, he didn't feel there was anything that could change his mind.

o o o o o

"...so, we thought it might be best for you to take over the Middleton case. Christie doesn't really have any experience in medical negligence and we are doubtful this will settle out of court," Bill explained to Draco.

Draco cleared his throat as he shuffled some papers on his desk before thrusting his hand into the packet of crackers next to his phone and pulling one out and biting into it desperately.

Bill watched Draco with a slightly surprised expression on his face. Draco swallowed the dry, tasteless cracker with an inward shudder. "That's fine, sir. Can I see the brief?" Draco shifted a hand to his stomach and massaged it discreetly.

Now the Wednesday after the Healer had confirmed Draco's sympathetic pregnancy and two days after he had been offered the promotion; it was after ten AM and Draco's stomach was telling him there was to be no immediate relief from the morning sickness that morning.

It had to be a fucking Wednesday, didn't it? Draco cursed to himself. Wednesday was their busiest day prior to court sessions on Thursdays. Draco's desk was stacked with pending cases, his boss was trying to load more onto him, and all Draco could think about was focusing all efforts on not throwing up all over his desk.

Bill handed over a thick file to Draco as he eyed his young blond colleague warily. "Are you ok, Draco?"

"Fine sir," Draco croaked dismissively as he flicked through the file to see what he was getting himself in for. "Excuse me for a moment," he said and pressed the intercom on his phone. "Gracie... canyoubringmethroughsomepeppermintteaurgently?" Draco said in a rush as he felt the contents of his stomach surge up to his throat unexpectedly.

Without even time to blush in embarrassment at his predicament, Draco grabbed his waste bin and bent over and threw up noisily into it. It was a relatively short vomit compared to his marathon sessions with the bucket when he first woke up, but highly inconvenient and down-right mortifying.

Just as Draco gave his final heave, Gracie came into the office armed with his peppermint tea and Draco looked up from his soiled bin to see both Gracie and Bill gaping at him in shock.

"Ok Draco," Bill said in a firm tone. "We're going to cut with the crap now. What is going on and why have you been so ill lately? You've told us it's been food poisoning, a stomach bug, heat stroke (when we are approaching winter), an allergic reaction, a spider bite; you even told one of the young secretarial interns it was typhoid fever and scared the pants off her! What's going on?"

Draco gulped and unscrewed his water bottle and took a long drink, avoiding his boss's intense, questioning gaze.

"I'm not angry with you, Draco. Everyone is just really concerned," Bill's tone softened. "You're a workaholic, but lately your mind has been elsewhere and you're quite obviously unwell. What's the matter? It's not the offer is it?"

"I can't say," Draco started. "I assure you, it has nothing to do with the possible promotion; it's a little embarrassing and kind of personal."

"Oh well, if you need, er, time off or something?" Bill stammered and cleared his throat. Draco looked up horrified.

"No no! Not embarrassing in a personal sort of way!" Draco corrected hastily. "Just rather uncommon."

"Is it serious?" Gracie asked with a gasp.

"No," Draco insisted with a reassuring smile. "I apologise too, sir, about the typhoid fever comment. That was disrespectful of me towards a junior staff member. I will apologise personally. I was just slightly fed up with being asked if I was alright whilst actually feeling quite terrible."

"It's perfectly ok, Draco," Bill said. "But I must insist that you either confide in me as to what is the matter or I will have to strongly advise you take extended sick leave. I'm not the slightest bit offended at you being sick in your waste basket, but clients may have a different opinion."

"I'm sorry sir," Draco mumbled and felt his cheeks burning. "There's been a little bit of development in my personal circumstances."

"Oh?" Bill said in interest. "Gracie, would you please arrange for a domestic assistant to come and replace Draco's waste basket?" Gracie hesitated, obviously keen to hear what Draco had to say but she sighed slightly and left the office. Bill looked to Draco expectantly.

"I'm going to be a father, sir," Draco said softly and couldn't stop a grin spreading across his face. Bill blinked in surprise and cleared his throat.

"Oh, I thought things were going well with you and Harry?"

Draco laughed. "They are, and you aren't the first person to think along similar lines," he assured his boss. "Harry and I are having a baby together." Bill looked even more perplexed and even blushed slightly. "Sorry, I'm not being entirely clear. Our best friend has offered to be a surrogate mother for us; she's just over a month pregnant with our baby. I'm the biological father."

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh," Bill said with a small sigh of relief. "I was getting a little worried for a moment there. You know, with your sickness and all. I was worried you were about to tell me you were pregnant!" Bill started laughing but Draco's expression went blank.

"Well, now that you mention it sir," Draco mumbled and Bill's laughter stopped abruptly. "I'm not pregnant per se, but apparently I am suffering something called Couvade Syndrome, or sympathetic pregnancy." Bill's mouth dropped open and it was the first time Draco had seen the man gape.

"So, this is morning sickness you have?" Bill asked in awe.

Draco nodded. "In a sense, yes," he admitted. "Every single woman on the face of the earth who has been pregnant now has my deepest admiration. Ironically, I'm sicker than the mother of our baby. This is definitely not something I factored into the bargain!"

"How long has it been going on?" Bill asked curiously.

"Almost two weeks now," Draco told him.

"How long will it last? When's the baby due?"

"The doctor can't tell me how long it will last. The baby's due about the same time this case is due in court," Draco said wryly as he flicked through the thick brief again. "My caseload is already stretched, sir. This is a huge case and I was hoping to take some time off when the baby comes..."

"Of course, Draco," Bill said and reached over and took the brief back from Draco. "Don't think anymore of it. You've hardly had any time off since you started and that day you went home sick was your first sick day in two years. Take as much time as you need when the baby comes. I'm glad you told me. I appreciate it. How do you think you will fare with this sympathetic pregnancy?"

Draco exhaled sharply and sipped his tea. "I wish I knew, sir. The signs are showing it's going to be pretty intense. I despise being ill, and Harry is already frightened of the mood swings. He looks like he wants to duck for cover if I even just glare at him longer than a second."

Bill laughed. "There are a few people around here who are a little frightened also," he advised Draco with a grin. "Half the secretarial staff are considering wearing face masks around you to avoid the typhoid fever!" Draco gave Bill a guilty look.

"I really am sorry about that. I'm, uh, sorry about puking in front of you too... twice. It's not exactly the impression I was looking to make on you," Draco said feebly. "There isn't anything I can take for it and all the old remedies are doing nothing." Draco indicated to the crackers and tea.

"Is this affecting your work?" Bill asked.

"No!" Draco said vehemently.

"I wasn't checking up on your work; no need to be defensive," Bill laughed. "I was just enquiring to see if you wanted to take some sick leave or something. You have loads of leave owing to you. It can't be pleasant for you."

"It's not sir, but I don't need to take time off for it. I usually start feeling better by around ten or so. But if it's a bother..." Draco trailed off and swallowed. He loved his job; the last thing he wanted right now was to put his position at risk. He may not want the promotion, but he certainly didn't want to give up his job entirely.

"It's no bother to anyone but yourself. You may need to inform some of your colleagues of your ailment so they are aware and don't race to call an ambulance every time your stomach rebels thinking you are suffering from typhoid fever," Bill said with a smirk. I'm never going to live that one down, Draco thought with an inward sigh. "I'm also more than happy for you to start work later in the mornings, if that will be of any assistance? Perhaps ten-thirty?"

"Only if you let me work later in the afternoons to make up for it," Draco responded immediately and Bill shrugged indicating it was Draco's choice. "Thank you, sir. I believe that will be some help. At least I should be feeling a little more like myself by the time I get to work then."

"You may cop a little teasing when you tell your work mates of this, you realise that?" Bill laughed and Draco sighed heavily.

"Oh yes, sir, I'm more than aware of where this may go," Draco moaned.

"Off the record?" Bill asked and Draco raised his eyebrows curiously but nodded. "Is this the reason you didn't jump at the promotion offer? I had gotten the impression you were rather keen for it, and I vouched for you entirely when we were discussing options."

"It's part of the reason," Draco confided. "I need a little time to consider my position now. It was quite some time before Harry and I had been given the amazing chance to have a baby when there were murmurs of a promotion. And you're right; back at that point in time of course I was keen to be considered for the partnership. Back when I hadn't even considered that having a baby was possible, as I'm sure you can understand, sir."

"You're a young man, Draco. Believe me when I say that I am more than understanding that you wish to put your family first. Even if a baby on the way wasn't a factor," Bill said wisely.

"Yes, I've, um, not be so considerate of time with Harry lately," Draco mumbled and studied his nails. "He's been so understanding and supportive, and um, I've just, well... not..." Draco bit down on his lip hard. Oh fucking great! Draco thought. Now you're going to cry like a pansy in front of your boss!

Draco hid his eyes from Bill's view behind his soft blond hair and tried to fumble blindly across the desk for his tissues. He was forced to look up when Bill slipped a clean handkerchief into his hand. Draco thanked what little miracles were left that Bill was smiling softly at him and not laughing his arse off.

"I'm not too old to forget my wife's first pregnancy, Draco," Bill chuckled. "I came home one day to find her sobbing her eyes out because she set the wrong time on the video player and taped the news instead of EastEnders. I assume you will be experiencing similar such emotions with a sympathetic pregnancy."

"Something like that," Draco sniffled and wiped his eyes and nose. "I apologise, sir. This is completely unprofessional of me. I just need a minute."

"Take ten," Bill offered. "Walk down the café on the corner and get yourself some fresh air and a coffee."

Draco laughed. "That might not be the best idea, sir. The smell of coffee makes me vomit. It's hellish to a self-confessed caffeine addict."

"Wow, you really drew the short straw on this, didn't you?" Bill teased.

"Penance for all my past sins, I think," Draco mused, though not entirely in jest.