Remember You

Two years and three months later

November 2000

“So… what do you think?”

“What do I think of what?”

“What do you think about what I asked you about last night?”

“Oh…. I think you’re mad.”

“Mad in a good way, because I can’t really see a down side to it.”

Draco sighed, letting his head drop into his hands. “I can, Harry. You’re completely and utterly mad to want children right now.”

Harry sat up straight in his chair indignantly. “Why is it so impossible for you to see us with children right now?”

“Because,” Draco waved his right hand around for emphasis, “I’m not yet done with the Auror program, and won’t be for several months. You can’t lift your left arm all the way, and I’m sorry but I suspect that you never will be able to do so. How do you expect to take care of a child while I’m at work, all by yourself?”

“I can manage. There’s magic to help with the things I can’t do properly. Besides, I can lift things just fine. It’s not like I’ll need to bend my arm much to raise a child. A disability as minor as mine has never stopped anybody from having a child, Draco. Besides, you will be around to help. You’re not at work all the time.”

Harry stood from the kitchen table to refill his coffee cup. Draco put his head in his arms, thinking quietly, listening to Harry’s movements behind him. “Unless you just don’t want to have children anymore,” Harry said casually as he closed a bag of bread.

Draco’s head snapped up from the table. “Don’t be daft, Harry. You’ve known since the beginning that I want children.” The blond stood and walked to Harry, wrapping his arms around his waist from behind. “I have always entertained the idea that someday, we’ll have three or four children together. The first will be a girl, of course…. I’m not fussed about the rest, just as long as there is at least one boy in the litter.”

Harry smiled and turned around in his husband’s arms. “What makes you think the first will be a girl?”

“I don’t think, Harry, I know it will be a girl.”

“That’s strange, really. I always thought you would want a boy first to carry on the family name.”

“Well,” Draco whispered, brushing his fingertips along Harry’s neck, and letting his lips follow in soft kisses. “That would be kind of pointless since our children’s names will be Potter-Malfoy.”

“My name first? But you know that if they don’t like the hyphenated name when they grow up, they’ll most likely drop the Malfoy and use Potter.”

“Put the good before the bad, I say. I’m proud of my name, don’t get me wrong…. I just don’t want my children to be judged wrongly because of their last name. If somebody sees our daughter’s last name is Potter-Malfoy, they’ll see the Potter first and say, ‘well, she’s a Potter; she must be a nice girl.’ If they saw the Malfoy first… well, she would get those same cold looks that I have always received. If I were of a different personality, I would take your name in a heartbeat. But I was raised to be proud of the name, so I’m not going to give it up. When our children grow up, it’ll be entirely up to them to take whichever name they want. You never know, they might keep both.”

Harry smiled fondly and kissed Draco’s forehead. “Look at you, talking about our non-existent children. I’d say you are ready for them.”

“Harry,” Draco sighed, pulling away. “This—“

“Draco,” Harry interrupted, “it doesn’t mean we have to have a child right away. Let’s just make an appointment with a specialist now to look at the different ways to have a child. We can just decide on the one that we like best and then we’ll be prepared for when we are truly ready. Draco… please. It would be just to see our prospects.”

“Fine,” Draco relented. “But I’m not promising anything.”

Harry’s face immediately lit up and he hugged Draco around the neck. “That’s so great, Draco! Hermione will be so glad!”

The blond pulled away with a raised eyebrow. “What does she have to do with any of this?”

“Oh… er—nothing, really. She will just be happy to hear that we’re at least considering.”

“Harry….”

“Oh, fine… she made us an appointment with the best healer there is for these sorts of procedures.”

“She what?” Draco stepped away further.

Harry shrugged. “I mean… it’s my fault really. I’ve sort of said a few times when I’ve been over there that I’ve wanted to start having kids, and she looked up a specialist for us and made an appointment for a consultation.”

“When is it?” Draco sighed.

“Not for another three weeks. He is a really busy man, you know. It would have been a two month wait, but apparently, he’s been rather anxious to help us have children ever since he heard of our marriage. He has made an exception for us.”

”Bloody wonderful… he makes an exception because you’re famous and I have an infamous father.”

“Don’t be like that, Draco. He’s done amazing things for couples who can’t have children, and for gay couples. Draco, this means a lot to me.”

“I know,” Draco murmured, touching Harry’s cheek lightly. “I said I would go. I just think it’s too soon to have children. We’re only twenty.”

“What’s your point? We got married at eighteen… straight out of Hogwarts!”

“Okay, point taken. Look, I have to go to work now. I’ll see you later tonight. I don’t know what time I’ll be home. They have us doing practical work today.”

“Be careful,” Harry said wistfully.

“Always,” Draco smirked, kissed Harry’s cheek and Disapparated.

Harry sighed, waved his wand at the kitchen counter cleaning everything up, and went into the sitting room to wait for his time to go to work. Over the past two years of marriage, he and Draco had fallen into a routine, and Harry was getting quite tired of it. As much as he hated to admit it, Harry was more of the housewife than he would have ever liked. Draco had a regular full-time career as an Auror-in training, while Harry worked part-time at Fred and George’s joke shop in Diagon Alley, and sometimes Hogsmeade if need be. When Harry was not working, he was either at home or visiting acquaintances for a cup of tea. Over the past two years, spending so much time doing domestic chores, he discovered that he was quite talented in everyday household charms. (They had come in quite handy when Draco had decided that he was tired of the white carpet in the living room, and spilled his red wine on the floor. Draco had been sorely disappointed when Harry had waved his wand at it, and it had disappeared). When he was not playing the dutiful house husband, Hogwarts was a regular stop for the former Gryffindor. Sirius was on his fifth year as professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts. Remus was often at Hogwarts as well, but did not live there anymore, but in Black Manor. He had acquired a job through the Ministry of Magic to educate witches and wizards about werewolves, and was currently in the middle of working on a rather substantial manuscript. The werewolf and Hermione could often be found together in the Manor, going over facts; concerning werewolves or other matters, Harry knew not. But he rather suspected that they discussed S.P.E.W, or other important matters that Hermione had immersed herself into since becoming youngest Junior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic.

She had helped Holden Hooper become the present Minister of Magic and was still enjoying her new position as Junior Undersecretary. They had made many reforms in the wizarding world that had helped to rebuild after the war. Magical creatures such as centaurs were no longer considered inferior to wizards in the law books of the Ministry. House elves, much to the consternation of many old blue-blood wizarding families, were given free reign to leave a home whenever they wanted. Of course, most chose to stay, but Harry heard from Hermione of one or two who had left their Masters and were now working for the Ministry with pay, vacation, and benefits. Hermione seemed particularly happy with the way her life was going, especially since Ron had proposed to her nearly a year earlier.

The couple were to be married in April the following year, and though Ron turned red every time it was mentioned, Harry could tell that his best friend had never been any happier. The two friends made it a ritual to meet every Saturday night in the Leaky Cauldron, the Three Broomsticks, or each other’s homes to talk. At these times, Ron would ask Harry in a hushed voice how he had managed the stress of preparing for marriage. Harry would laugh, but it would always be in the back of his mind that there had been a war at the time, so had not had too much time to dwell on it and get nervous. So, he would just answer like this, “I handled it because I reminded myself that I was marrying the person I loved most in the world. It seems a little silly, but it’s the honest to Merlin truth, Ron. It won’t seem so bad later.” The conversation would then digress to discussions concerning which Quidditch teams was the best at the moment. Ron always had the inside scoop on Quidditch as he worked in the Department of Magical Games and Sports, and naturally assumed that, most of the time, he won the arguments.

Harry let Ron believe it most of the time. He had begun to secretly root for the Applebee Arrows, but had not broken the news to Ron quite yet.

The old Malfoy grandfather clock chimed nine in Draco’s study, breaking Harry from his thoughts. It was Thursday, and he knew that Sirius did not have a class until after lunch, so he Disapparated to the edge of Hogwarts, and began the familiar trek to the school. The halls of Hogwarts were mostly deserted as classes were currently in session, so Harry did not meet any problems, except for the staircase that moved while he was on it, causing him to take an extra five minute detour to Sirius’s office.

When the young man arrived, he could hear his godfather humming a Weird Sisters’ tune from inside. He gently knocked and opened the door. Sirius looked up from filing some papers and smiled warmly. The older man flicked some errant hair out of his eyes and stood straight. “Harry… this is a nice surprise. You haven’t been to see me in a while.”

“Four days,” Harry said dryly, sitting in his favourite chair.

“Yes, well,” Sirius replied, sitting behind his desk. “All the same, it seems longer than that.”

“Flattered.” Harry rolled his eyes.

“So, have you asked Draco about the consultation yet?”

“Just this morning actually—“

“And?”

Harry grinned. “I have him in a choke hold. There’s no way he’ll say no to children after we see the healer.”

“Are you putting a guilt trip on him, Harry?” Sirius tried to frown as he said this, but the corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile. “Because if you put one on him now, the one you’ll give yourself later when he’s miserable with children, will be gigantic.”

“Come off it, Sirius. You know he wants them just as much as I do. He’ll love our child even more than me, you can bet on it.”

Sirius smiled. “Yes, I’m sure he or she will be loved and spoiled more than anybody could imagine. I mean, with two fathers, Remus and I, Ron and Hermione, maybe a grandmother if she so chooses to be in its life, plus countless others. Besides, who couldn’t love the spawn of a Potter and a Malfoy put together?” Sirius feigned tiredness. “Merlin… we’ll have our work cut out for us.”

“You’re not the one who has to raise it.”

“And I’m thankful for that.”

The two men smiled and then finished out the morning, speaking of nothing in significance. Every once in a while, Harry would reflect and think how lucky he was that these conversations no longer inevitably turned to Voldemort. As godfather and godson bid goodbye after a lunch together, Harry thought happily how good his life on the whole had turned out to be. There were drawbacks, of course, but he was finding ways to deal with them.

The next three weeks before the appointment went by amazingly slow for Harry. It was the same boring routine that which Draco never seemed to tire. They would wake, Draco would shower while Harry made breakfast, and they would eat together and talk about something boring that occurred at Draco’s job. The only reason that Harry found it boring, really, was because he was not allowed to be an Auror and was still a bit sulky over the fact. He hoped that he would one day get over it for Draco’s sake, since the blond seemed to sulk a bit himself whenever Harry had to feign his interest.

After breakfast, Draco would Disapparate, sometimes remembering to kiss Harry goodbye, but mostly not. Most of the time, Draco would retreat to his study to do only he knew what, and would forget to tell Harry that he was leaving altogether. The only reason Harry knew was because he could hear the resulting ‘pop’ from Apparition.

Then Harry would go to work if he was scheduled, come home, eat a solitary dinner, and then wake to Draco dragging himself into bed after midnight. Draco would sometimes try to rouse Harry in hopes for sex, but Harry would turn over and feign sleep. In truth, Harry was not in the mood much anymore.

It had not always been like this, Harry remembered. When they had first married, they were in bed together at every possible moment. They had never been able to keep their hands off each other. The ‘honeymoon phase’ as Harry had heard it referred to, had taken over a year to wear off. Eventually, Draco had become so involved with his work that he rarely spent time with his husband.

Harry now truly felt like a bitter housewife. All he needed was a box of chocolates, a bottle of cheap wine and a glass.

Then, rather recently, the plan to have a child occurred to Harry, and he had not stopped talking to Hermione about it. The thought of a child brought new life inside of Harry. To him there was nothing better than the thought of having a child with Draco.

Harry would never tell Draco that he wanted to have a child because he was so lonely.

When the morning of the appointment came, Harry was beside himself with excitement. Not only was he spending the entire day with Draco, but they were looking into the possibility of having a child. Draco was dragging behind a little, taking forever in picking out suitable Muggle clothing. The doctor served both the wizarding and Muggle worlds, so it was required to wear Muggle clothing at the appointments.

“Come on, Draco! We need to leave right now to make it on time!” Harry called from the living room. Draco was still in the bedroom, dressing.

“Hold your knickers on, Harry. You know we’ll be kept waiting for at least ten minutes. That’s how Healers work.”

“He’s also a Doctor.”

”Well, we’re wizards, so we’ll call him a Healer.” Draco walked into the living room, wearing a dark blue cashmere jumper with dark grey trousers. Harry had been dressed for hours now, in Molly Weasley’s latest jumper, which was Ron’s least favourite colour, maroon. Draco eyed it doubtfully and shrugged.

“At least there isn’t anything on it this time,” he muttered.

Harry smiled fondly and approached his husband, eyeing his attire appreciatively. He stopped with his hands resting on Draco’s hips. “What?” Draco asked, brow furrowed.

“I’ve nearly forgotten how good you look out of your Auror’s robes. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you in anything else.”

Draco looked worried for a moment, but the look passed so quickly that Harry could not be sure it had been. “Well, let’s go then.” The blond summoned his new dragonhide jacket, his old Slytherin scarf and put them on to help fight the cold. He also summoned Harry’s noticeably less fancy jacket and his Gryffindor scarf and wrapped it around the darker man. Draco wrapped his arms around Harry’s shoulders and pulled him close. “I don’t much feel like Apparating alone this morning,” he whispered, giving Harry a sweet kiss. With that, they Disapparated with a ‘pop,’ led by Draco into a back alley of the clinic. The two young men hurried around to the front, holding hands, and fighting against the harsh November wind.

Draco checked in at the front desk while Harry hung their coats and scarves up on the coat rack. They sat together next to another gay couple, who were holding a small bundle that was cooing.

“I’m assuming that the doctor helped you with her,” Harry commented, pointing to the bundle of pink blankets.

The man closest to Harry turned and smiled. The man was of a medium build. He had a day’s old stubble on his face, dark brown eyes, and a dazzling smile. “Yes, he did. This is actually our third. We’re just coming for a check up on little Seraphina.”

“Seraphina?” Draco asked sharply. “That’s a terribly common name, don’t you think?”

Harry turned to him and glared. However, both fathers of the child named Seraphina chuckled softly. “Both of our mothers thought the same thing, actually,” said the other man, who had sandy blond hair, hazel eyes and a large muscular build. “They said it about every one of our children’s names, but it doesn’t faze us, really. Anyway, you two look familiar…” he faded off. Harry made sure his fringe was covering his scar.

“I’m Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. Malfoy-Potter, actually.” Draco stuck out his hand and shook both of their hands. “This messy haired pillock with me is my husband, Harry Potter-Malfoy.”

“Oh, of course, you two were all over the papers a few years ago when you were married. By the way, I’m Teheran Flint,” introduced the one holding the baby, “and this is my husband, Rodouin Diggle.

“So, are you here for a first child?” Teheran asked, shifting the baby in his arms.

“Yes,” Harry responded quickly. “Though Draco is a bit more reluctant about it. We’re mostly here for a consultation. We want to see the options that are out there for us.”

“I’m afraid you’re in for a mighty shock then,” said Teheran gravely. “There aren’t many ways outside of adoption.”

“Don’t get their hopes down now. I’m sure they’ll find a way,” Rodouin smiled. “Draco, why don’t you hold Seraphina to get the feeling of it?” Rodouin picked up Seraphina, and placed her in a startled Draco’s arms. Draco stared down at her, wide-eyed for a few moments before shifting the small bundle closer to his body as if protecting her. Harry leaned into Draco’s shoulder and moved the blanket down so that he could get a better view of the little girl. When he moved the blanket, she turned her big blue eyes up to Draco, smiled, and cooed happily.

“Wow,” Draco breathed, rubbing the girl underneath her chin with the tip of his finger, making her squirm. Seraphina grabbed his finger and tugged. Harry looked to his husband and delightfully found that Draco looked extremely touched.

“She’s beautiful,” Harry said, smiling.

“Thank you,” replied both men at the same time.

“Messrs. Potter and Malfoy.”

They looked up at the sound of their names and saw an aging man in Muggle doctor’s clothing. The healer had greying black hair that was cut short and was slightly spiky. His nose was red on the tip and kind of pudgy, fitting his round, pink face. He also had a bit of a belly rounding out over his trousers, protruding from his doctor’s jacket.

Harry and Draco stood up after Teheran took his daughter back. “Follow me,” continued the doctor, and they followed him into a medium-sized Muggle doctor’s office. After Harry closed the door, they formerly introduced themselves. “I’m Healer Angus Widduling. It’s very nice to meet the both of you.” Harry and Draco murmured similar greetings, both shaking hands with him. “As you can see,” Healer Widduling continued after introductions were through, “this office is mostly used for Muggles. We won’t be conversing in here of course. We’ll be going into the next room.”

With a wave of his wand, a wall opened behind the two chairs on the back wall, and Widduling stepped straight through the furniture as if it was not there. Harry shrugged and followed both the Healer and Draco. They stepped into a huge room that was clearly magical. Harry could feel the magic seeping out of everything in the room. On the back wall were potion ingredients of every kind on shelves. In the middle of the shelves of ingredients was a door, no doubt leading to another room full of potion ingredients. On the left wall, was a fireplace, a desk, and a large standing shelf that reached the ceiling and took up a great portion of the wall, holding files upon files of information, concerning what, Harry could only imagine.

In the middle of the room was a large, circular conference table with twelve chairs around it. To the right were two plush couches on either side of a small alcove, in which were two doors. One door was ajar, the room containing a solitary bed.

Draco elbowed him in the side and pointed to the open door. “Wanking room,” he whispered with a mischievous smirk.

Both the Healer and Harry coughed. “Anyway,” Widduling commented, flicking his wand at the desk. Two books flew towards them. One was a rather large tome, while the other was considerably smaller. “First things first, I suppose. We need to discuss the procedure with which you are most interested. Would you like to use just one of your samples, or would you like to have both of your genes in the child?”

“Both,” replied Harry automatically, while Draco nodded slightly.

“Okay, then you have one of two choices. The first one is fairly new, but is not very popular. It has only been done three times since it was developed.”

“Was it safe?”

“There were a few complications, but all three made it through, though one of the babies had a Muggle affliction called Down’s syndrome. The wizarding world has not had a case of it in over 800 years.”

“What was the procedure?” Draco asked impatiently.

“Would either of you two be willing to carry the child within yourself?” the Healer asked mildly, flipping to a page in the smaller book.

Harry choked on air, suddenly remembering his sex talk with Sirius on his seventeenth birthday. Sirius had laughed at the idea of a man becoming pregnant, and both had decided that it would be distinctly unpleasant. Harry still came to that conclusion now.

Before Harry could get one word of protest out however, Draco was inquiring about the procedure and what had to be done. “It’s a rather new development,” explained Widduling. “We have just developed a way to grow a uter—“

“Hold on!” Harry interrupted, and then apologised for doing so. “Draco, are you planning on carrying our child?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m in training to be an Auror. I was thinking that you could do it. You seem to like doing the womanly chores around the house.”

Harry felt his eye twitch, and he clenched his jaw with anger and frustration. “No, Draco, you’re just too blind to see what’s really in front of you. If Hermione wouldn’t protest so much, I’d much like to get a house-elf. I do house work out of necessity. Do you want to live in a sty? I abhor house work, Draco. What makes you think that I would want to carry a baby?”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Abhor? That’s a new one for you. Have you been studying the dictionary while I’m at work?”

Harry definitely felt his eye twitching now. “You are so completely….” Harry spluttered for a word, “ignorant!”

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, if I may interrupt. Perhaps this fight is something you would like to finish in the privacy of your own home. For now, I can suggest that we step away from the option of male pregnancy, and move onto the second option that I believe you two will find much more to your liking. That option is to acquire several eggs from a female donor, enter one of your samples into each egg so that the genes may take over, and become the eggs’ new genes. Then, we fertilise the eggs with the other samples, implant several off the fertilised eggs back into a surrogate mother, and hope some attach.”

“You can do that?” Harry asked disbelievingly. “I mean… change the DNA in an egg so that it’s Draco’s if you put his sperm into it?”

“Yes. Mr. Malfoy’s DNA will take over, but the egg will keep the needed X chromosomes that the woman gives in conception.”

“So, is this a Muggle or wizarding procedure?” Draco asked curiously.

“Wizards have had this procedure for nearly 300 years. Muggles are only just discovering it, and it is not widely known among their public yet, but I am sure that it will be in due time.”

“This is the one of two methods that we can use?” Harry confirmed.

“Yes, and it seemed as though you were not too fond of male pregnancy?”

“Not at all,” Harry confirmed with a firm shake of his head. “I think I like option two better.

“Yes, I suppose it will have to do,” Draco sighed. “I’d rather not bring any woman into this at all—“

“Oh, even with male pregnancy, you need an egg donor, Mr. Malfoy.”

“Yes, well, that’s where the job ends for them, isn’t it? What if the woman gets attached?”

“The woman knows what is involved and expected of her. She knows that the child is not hers. She is just the carrier. The child will in no way have any of her genes.”

“Then what’s in it for her?” Harry asked.

Widduling smiled benignly. “The pleasure of knowing she is giving a childless couple what they want… and, a large pile of galleons of course, which is the next thing that we need to discuss. How much are you willing to spend?”

“As much as needed,” Draco replied.

“Good, good,” the Healer said briskly. “Now, in this pamphlet, there is a list of women who are willing to be surrogate mothers. The general idea is to pick somebody whom you think you may be able to get along with for nine or ten months.”

“Hold on a minute,” Draco said sharply. “I was under the impression that this was nothing but a consultation. Why are we making decisions like this already?”

“Well, Mr. Malfoy,” said Widduling, generally surprised, “I was under the impression that you were interested in having a child now.”

“I only came here today because I thought it would satisfy Harry’s need to see the procedures available and help us plan for a child in the future. If you expect us to use that wanking bedroom today, then I believe it’s time for us to leave, Harry.”

Harry stayed planted firmly in his chair as Draco stood and began walking away. “Harry?” Draco inquired, turning around once he was a few feet away.

“Draco,” Harry began, turning slowly in his seat to face his husband, “I want a child now.”

“Frankly, Harry, that’s not going to happen. I’m not through with my Auror training. I don’t want a child right now.”

“What about what I want?”

“Harry,” Draco sighed, “give it up. We’re not having any children now. I have other things to worry about. Come on, let’s go home. Thank you for your time, Healer.”

As Draco re-entered the Muggle office, Harry turned back around and hung his head slightly. “I’m sorry about wasting your time, Healer. I was positive he would change his mind.”

“Nonsense, this has happened before and this won’t be the last either. Don’t worry, Mr. Potter, sooner or later, your husband will realise he’s not thinking of your needs.” Harry let out a snort of laughter. “In the meantime, I will make a time slot available to you whenever he changes his mind about this. If I am not able to make an opening in my schedule, one of the nurses will attend to you. Feel free to owl or Floo me at any time.”

“Thank you,” Harry said sincerely, shook his hand and left for the lobby. It was nearly empty excepting for one Muggle couple and Draco. The blond had already put on his coat and Slytherin scarf and was holding out Harry’s wraps. Harry took them rather roughly and put them on, and stalked out of the doctor’s office, leaving Draco to follow. When they arrived home, Harry put his outer clothing away and went into the kitchen to make hot chocolate.

The former Gryffindor sat down to watch Muggle television when the hot beverage was done and was quite content to sit and not talk about anything. But Draco dropped down beside him.

“Could you make me some of that?”

“Make it yourself.”

“Please, Harry?” Draco whined.

“Oh, for Merlin… have mine, you selfish, undeserving, inattentive piece of Slytherin flobberworm slime.”

“Well…” Draco furrowed his brow. “I think that may have been a little harsh and not to mention uncalled for.”

“Uncalled for? It was very called for. Use that oh-so-smart brain of yours, Draco, and think about how I might be feeling right now. For the past year, we have fallen into a routine that you don’t seem to mind, but I do. I hate it.”

“Don’t you mean ‘abhor?’” Draco smirked as he drank the hot chocolate.

“Be quiet, I’m trying to say something here. You’re always at work, and we never see each other because you have to be dedicated to your career from eight in the morning to midnight. That’s not normal! I tend to get the feeling that you avoid me deliberately. Then, when we do get to spend time together, you constantly make me feel worthless, as if I like to do what I do everyday. If I could have your job, I would take it in a heartbeat. I hate working part-time. I hate not having anything important to do. I hate cleaning all the time…. I hate being alone all the time… everyday. I want somebody here with me if I can’t work in the career of my choice. If that person can’t be you, then I want a child. I just… I want somebody who will be there for me all the time, even if they aren’t aware of it –“

“Harry,” Draco said quietly. “I’ve always been there for you –“

Harry paused. He felt silly for saying these things, but frustration had been slowly building in him for months now. “You’ve been distant. And… you’re inconsiderate.”

“Well… I don’t mean to be distant. I’m sorry; I don’t want you to be unhappy. I’m sorry that you think I’ve been inconsiderate.” Draco leaned forward and kissed Harry softly. “Let me make it up to you.”

Harry did not want to have sex just then, but he let Draco lead him to the bedroom. Harry did not want to kiss Draco, but he matched the kiss to every touch, so that his kiss was tender when Draco’s was, or it was rough when Draco’s was, or passionate when Draco’s was passionate. Harry did not want Draco inside of him, but he wanted Draco to feel his loneliness and understand his despair. So, he clung to Draco in desperation, murmuring words of encouragement and love, meeting Draco’s every thrust. Harry was bitter in the back of his mind for Draco being on top again, but wrapped his legs around Draco’s waist anyhow, and rode it out until they were both on the brink of ecstasy and fell gasping to the bed beneath them.

Afterwards, Harry lay limply in Draco’s arms, letting Draco lazily kiss his chest and neck. Harry did not want to be like this anymore. He wanted to reciprocate Draco’s actions. Draco kissed Harry softly and nuzzled Harry’s cheek with his nose.

“I love you, Harry,” Draco whispered.

Harry pressed his hand to Draco’s cheek and turned his back on his husband. He wanted to say it back. Of course Harry loved Draco. He had for years, and would forever, but he did not feel like saying it.

When Draco spoke next, it was anxiously. Harry felt Draco’s hand touch him lightly on his bare back. “Harry? What’s wrong?”

“I’ve already said what’s wrong, Draco, and I’m not going to say it again. Sex isn’t the answer to everything and it won’t change my mind about anything.”

“I never said it would. I –”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’ve said my peace. It’s up to you to tell me what you want and when you want it.”

A long silence followed. Finally, Draco sighed and Harry felt him leave the bed, and heard him leave the room. Harry heard the television being clicked on and then the volume lowering. It was Harry’s turn to sigh. Draco only watched the telly if Harry was watching it. If Draco watched it by himself, he did not want to be near Harry or he was having trouble sleeping. And since it was only mid-afternoon, Harry had to guess it was the former.

He dressed silently in wizard’s clothing, preparing to go into the shop in Diagon Alley to see if George needed any help. Cursing his luck that the fireplace was in the same room as Draco, Harry put on his cloak, fastened it on, and hurried into the living room, hoping to not have to speak to his husband.

“Where are you going?” Draco asked quietly from the couch.

Harry cursed silently as he took a pinch of Floo powder from the mantle. He answered without turning around. “To the shop to see if George needs help – they normally get a shipment of products on Sundays, so I thought I would help out.”

“Oh. Okay. I’ll see you when you come home then.”

Draco’s voice sounded small and tired. The sound of it made Harry turn around and study him. He was slouched on the sofa, remote control in hand, sad eyes studying Harry through long lashes, and decidedly messy hair that screamed, ‘I just had sex!’ And on a second glance, Harry noted that Draco’s shirt was turned inside out and backwards, and wore Harry’s dirty boxers from yesterday. Harry felt his chest swell with warmth and affection.

”I wore those boxers yesterday,” he commented quietly, fighting a small smile.

Draco looked down and shrugged. Harry sighed, put the Floo powder away again, and approached Draco. “Draco, stand up.”

Draco obeyed, albeit reluctantly. “Why are you sulking, Malfoy?” Harry asked quietly, turning his chin up.

“I’m not sulking,” Draco sulked.

“You’re unquestionably sulking, Draco. Now, why are you?”

“You hate me.”

“That’s ridiculous. Why would you think that?”

“You didn’t tell me you loved me.”

Harry allowed himself to chuckle softly. “So that’s the reason you’re out here watching the telly?”

“Mostly, but that’s not all of the reason.”

“Well, let me put your mind at ease, Draco… I love you. You’re incredibly insecure.”

“Shut up. You’re mocking me.”

“I am not…. Look, Draco, we’ve had a lot of problems lately, and they need to be worked out. I admit that I’ve been selfish in this child situation, but you have to admit that you have been as well. We’re not thinking about each other when we should be. I don’t think you’re giving me much respect, and maybe you think I’m being inconsiderate when it comes to your career. I understand that you want to be an Auror, and I support that. But Draco, I’ll be honest and say that if I don’t get your support, I’ll go mad. It drives me round the bend that I can’t be an Auror. That is all I have ever wanted to do, and for you to sit back and patronise what I do as a result of this injury that I have…. It’s not respectful in any aspect.”

“I’m sorry,” Draco whispered. “I can’t help it sometimes.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s nothing, Harry. I’ll try not to do it anymore. I never meant any of it. About this child – “

“If you don’t want to have one right now, I’ll understand, but… if you make me wait, then promise me that I’ll see more of you around home. Despite everything, I’ve missed you.”

“No worries, Harry,” Draco replied, smiling brightly. “I’ve got it covered. And Harry, you smell like sex and you’re still a bit sweaty. I don’t think you should go anywhere until after you shower.”

Harry undid the clasp on his cloak, letting it puddle on the floor. “Good idea, Draco.” Harry smiled at him and kissed him briefly before making his way to the bathroom. He smiled to himself when he heard Draco race toward him.

“May I join you, Harry?”

“That seems kind of silly.”

“No, it doesn’t. I’m pretty gross myself, and it would save on water if we went in together.”

“Only if you let me undress and bathe you completely. You’re not allowed to touch me.”

“What?” Draco exclaimed, appalled.

Harry turned and trailed his fingertip down his chest. “Follow these rules and you may shower with me.”

“Fine,” Draco sulked.

As it turned out, however, neither one even made it to the shower. Draco lost control of himself as Harry did a slow strip tease, and jumped on him. But, Harry decided that he was not too angry with Draco, because the blond let himself be pushed against the wall, and shagged into complete submission. Both men slumped to the soft, carpeted floor afterwards and did not make it into the shower until some time later.