Remember You

As Christmas neared, the atmosphere in the Potter-Malfoy household had relaxed substantially. Since their trip to the doctor’s office, they had worked out more of their problems, and both had given a considerable effort to stick to their solutions. While Harry was happy that Draco made more of an effort to be home more often, he was still a little upset that Draco did not yet want to have a child. He did realise that his reasons for a child were superficial, but when he pushed aside all those reasons, he really did want a child. All his life, he had wanted nothing more than a family. They were young, yes, but he knew they could handle it. After all the two had handled together, a child would be almost easy. Almost. It would be hard, but it would be worth it. So, Harry concluded that if a child was worth having, he or she was also worth waiting for. If Draco needed more time, he would get it.

It was already December fifteenth – only ten days from Christmas, and Harry was fretting because he had not found any suitable gifts for his husband. He had already found gifts for Ron, Hermione, the twins, Sirius, Remus, the rest of the Weasleys, and a few Hogwarts teachers – including Snape, but Draco’s gifts seemed unusually difficult to find this year. Harry remembered Draco saying something about needing a new cauldron and potions kit for work, but did not know if he wanted those items as gifts. He considered getting the most expensive cauldron he could buy, as Draco would appreciate that, but still was not entirely sure.

Harry was debating this dilemma while walking down the winding, cobbled street of Diagon Alley. Witches and wizards were bustling about, herding small children around, and doing their own Christmas shopping. It was an unusually busy day, so it was quite the task for the Ministry owl to find Harry among the crowd. When the owl perched on his shoulder, he gave a start and looked up at the stern bird. The animal looked down at him with doleful, yellow eyes, hooting softly. As soon as he untied the letter, the owl took flight again, and disappeared around the building of the Daily Prophet.

Harry curiously opened it in the middle of the street, wondering what the Ministry could possibly want with him.

Mr. Potter,

As you may know, there are still active Death Eaters on the loose. While the Aurors have made considerable progress in locating a few of them, and anticipating aggressive acts, there are still planned attacks that we do not hear of until after the fact.

It is regrettable that we did not anticipate the small attack on the Aurors’ offices this morning. While no considerable damage has been done to the building, and no death toll to account for, there have been serious injuries.

It is with regret that we inform you that your partner, Mr. Draco Malfoy has been injured and is now in St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. For further information, please come to the hospital at your earliest convenience.

Sincerely,

Hermione E. Granger

Junior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic

Harry crumpled the letter in his hand angrily. Hermione had written him this letter as if he were just another person, not her best friend. It was not as if Draco was not her friend either. Should she have not been a bit more emotional about it, and not so business-like? Harry promptly Disapparated to the alley near the entrance to St. Mungo’s. He entered hurriedly, asking where Draco was being kept and continued on his way. When he arrived, Harry found that Draco’s door was ajar. Inside, curtains surrounded the bed; there was enough of a gap for Harry to recognise Draco’s leg hanging of the side of the bed, and hurried inside.

Draco was dozing lightly, so Harry pulled a chair forward and sat next to him. To all appearances, the blond looked okay, so Harry did not let himself despair. Perhaps there was nothing really wrong after all. Harry took Draco’s hand in his and kissed it lightly. It woke Draco from his light slumber and he smiled weakly at the darker man.

“Hallo, Harry.”

“Draco, what happened? They didn’t say anything in the letter I received…” Harry scowled slightly, but pushed away the thought of Hermione.

“It was nothing, really. It was only a group of five Death Eaters that came in. They shot a few curses around and I was unlucky enough to get hit by one. I think they apprehended all the Death Eaters.”

“Which curse hit you?”

“They don’t know, really.”

“Will you be okay?”

“They say I should make a quick recovery, though there are conditions on my release from the hospital.”

“And those would be what?”

“I’ll have to take a few months off of work. Normally I would argue, but considering that I can’t even walk… well, I’m inclined to agree.”

“You… you can’t walk?”

“Yeah, I’m completely numb from the waist down. I can’t even feel my penis, which is entirely unpleasant. I don’t even know if it’s still there, to tell you the truth. Somebody may have cut it off and I’d be none the wiser. Do you want to check for me to make sure it’s there?”

Draco tried to make light of the situation but Harry did not find his humour the least funny. “So… you’re paralysed?”

“Basically,” Draco shrugged. “They said I’ll recover so it’s nothing permanent, apparently. I should be able to return to work in about three months.”

“Well….”

“If you’re worried about your sex life, Harry, don’t worry. I still have use of my mouth and hands.”

“Draco, I’m not that worried about that right now. I’m more worried about you.”

“I feel inclined to agree with Potter, Draco,” said a silky voice from behind them. Both young men turned and saw Snape standing by the end of the curtain, one eyebrow raised.

“Severus!” Draco exclaimed, pleased, “how corking to see you!”

Snape raised an eyebrow to show his distaste. “You seem to be in high spirits, Draco, considering the situation.”

“They said I’d get better, so what’s the use of moping? Besides, you should see the chair I get. It hovers!” Draco was practically glowing from excitement. “I can hover as high as I want, well, under ten feet that is. If I wanted to kick somebody in the face, I could, very easily… with the exception that I’d have to use arm power to control my legs, but still, you get the point!”

“How do you feel about this chair, Potter?” Snape asked Harry.

“I don’t know. This is the first I’ve heard of it. I’m afraid for my face.”

“Don’t worry, Harry. You’re much too pretty to be kicked in the face. Weasley on the other hand…” Draco grinned maliciously.

Just then, Hermione rushed into the room, pink in the face and panting. “Oh, Draco, how awful for you!” she exclaimed, rushing forward and embracing him. “I was just here to check on the status of things with the new injuries and just heard that you were hit with something –”

“What do you mean, you just heard?” asked Harry angrily. “You’re the one who sent me a letter, acting as if you don’t know Draco or me!”

“What are you talking about, Harry?” Hermione asked anxiously.

Harry held out the letter that was still clutched in his fist. “This letter you wrote… ‘We regret to inform you that your partner, Mr. Draco Malfoy’ and ‘Sincerely, Hermione E. Granger.’ What was that?”

“Oh!” Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m so sorry, Harry. I was so swamped with work this morning after the attack. The Minister sent me list of people that needed owls sent to them, informing them of their family members’ injuries. I didn’t think I had time to do all of them, so I did it with a spell. I magicked a quill to do it while I did other things. It wrote the same thing in every letter, except it changed names and such. I’m so sorry, Harry. I didn’t even look at the names on the list. If I had, I would have written yours personally.” Harry did not feel wholly convinced. “Honestly, Harry. I swear. I never thought that Draco would be the one who was injured.”

“Harry,” Draco said, “let her off the hook. I’m sure she probably was swamped with work, you know?”

Harry sighed, hanging his head. “All right, I’m sorry, Hermione. I’m acting like a… well, it’s not excusable. I was just worried.”

“I understand, Harry. But for what it’s worth, I really am sorry.”

Harry nodded, giving a wan smile. “It’s okay… really.”

Snape rolled his eyes. “As much as I would love to sit in on this cute moment, I really did come here to speak to Draco about something… in private.”

“Yes, Harry… Granger, leave immediately,” Draco commanded. Harry shook his head, took Hermione by the elbow and started to leave the room. “Oh, but Harry?” Draco called.

”Yes?”

“I’m feeling a bit put out that you didn’t bring me anything.”

“King of subtlety, he is,” Harry muttered to Hermione, who giggled. “I’ll pop over to Diagon Alley and get you something nice,” he then said to Draco, as if speaking to a small child. Draco, however, grinned from ear to ear.

“Oh, but make sure to get me a large amount of cockroach clusters.”

“I would never forget those,” Harry said dryly.

“Cockroach Clusters?” Hermione asked distastefully as they left the room.

“Flowers wouldn’t hurt either!” Draco yelled after them.

Harry ignored him. “Yes. They’re his guilty pleasure, as he says. We usually have a stash hidden away in our bedroom, kitchen, and living room somewhere. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a couple in his office as well. This phase is better than his blood-flavoured pops that he went through about a year ago. I finally told him that I would never kiss him again if he kept eating them. Then he switched to Cockroach Clusters – hasn’t stopped eating them since.”

Hermione laughed quietly. “Okay, Harry… I’m sorry, but I have to get back to my rounds of the hospital. I’ll see you this Saturday, right?”

“If Draco permits it – he’s unusually demanding when he’s ill, or incapacitated.”

They hugged briefly, and then went their separate ways.

The next few weeks were trying for Harry. Though he liked having Draco home, he did not like being at Draco’s every beck and call. Draco was extremely demanding, but Harry took it all in stride. He knew that he would do anything to get Draco back on his feet again, so kept at it.

Draco was making considerable progress. He could now stand, though he had to be leaning up against something to do so. He could not walk more than one step without collapsing, but the Healers said that Draco’s progress was going extremely well.

A few days before Christmas, Draco was in his hover chair and had excused himself to the bathroom – something Harry was thankful that Draco could now do himself. Harry sat on the couch, intent on watching the rest of the evening news when a loud shout came from the bathroom. Harry was up in a flash and in the bathroom before Draco’s next shout sounded throughout the flat.

“What is it?” Harry asked urgently.

Draco was facing the toilet, and turned his head to look at Harry, his face glowing. “I can feel my penis again! It tingles when I touch it. Now I can give you your Christmas present!”

Harry stared at Draco’s back as the blond looked down and began touching himself in obvious delight. He walked to him and bent down to kiss Draco’s cheek. “That’s great, Draco. I’m glad it’s coming back, but I don’t know if I want to know what the present is,” he kissed his cheek again and walked out of the bathroom.

Christmas Eve finally arrived. Draco was acting more perplexed, but Harry tried to ignore that. The two of them were to have Christmas Eve to themselves, and the next morning, they would go the Burrow for Christmas gifts and dinner. All the Weasleys, Sirius, and Remus would be there as well.

Harry made Draco and himself a dinner of their own on Christmas Eve complete with candlelight and expensive wine. Draco had swooned mockingly, but had immediately become sober and tense once dinner commenced. Harry studied his husband, as the blond absentmindedly ate his roast beef.

Harry decided to ignore what was on Draco’s mind for now. “Did you want to open presents after dinner?”

“This is really good,” Draco commented distractedly, pointing at the food with his fork.

“Thanks. Mrs. Weasley gave me some pointers…. Did you want to open gifts after dinner?”

“Er – I… I have something I need to do first.”

A bead of sweat broke out on Draco’s forehead. Harry blinked, and nodded. “Okay.”

“Don’t do dishes yet. We’ll do them together later. Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”

Harry watched perplexed as Draco turned in his chair and hovered from the room. A door closed down the hall, and it was silent again. Harry sat back and finished off his glass of wine, and waited another ten minutes at the table for Draco to reappear. When it seemed as though he would not be coming back for a while, Harry began clearing the table, and turned on the lights overhead. The former Gryffindor looked down at all the leftovers that they had, and regretfully threw most of it away. Draco absolutely refused to eat any sort of leftovers, so it was usually up to Harry to finish off the rest. Most did get eaten, but more often than not, it would mould in the refrigerator, and Harry would have to throw it out anyway. He put the dishes in the sink, turned on the hot water, and added soap, to let the dishes start to soak. Instead of starting the dishes to help pass time while he waited, he entered the living room where the Christmas tree was glowing with fairies, numerous presents sitting proudly beneath it.

Harry turned some wizarding Christmas music on low to cover the silence of the flat. He never did like the feeling of being alone, so usually liked some sort of noise. When a half an hour had passed, Harry heard Draco call his name. Harry followed the sound of his voice to the bathroom and cautiously opened the door. It was dark and all Harry could hear was panting breath and the steady ‘drip’ of the faucet.

“Draco? Are you all right?”

“I need your help. This isn’t working by myself.” Draco panted from somewhere below Harry.

Harry flipped on the light switch. Draco was lying on his side on the carpeted floor, back to Harry. He was breathing heavily and his trousers and boxers were down to his knees.

Harry hurried to his back and tried to turn him over, but Draco moved more onto his front. “Draco, did you fall? How long ago did it happen? You should have called for help.”

“I didn’t fall. Well, I tipped out of my chair, but I didn’t care so much. That’s not what I need help with.”

“What is it?”

Draco turned his face up to Harry’s. His face was covered in sweat and flushed a light red. “Don’t laugh, Harry.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“I need you to… finish me off.”

“What?”

Draco rolled his eyes and sat up, showing Harry exactly what he was doing. “You came in here to masturbate?”

“Yes. Is there a problem?”

“Well… no, but why?”

“Because I didn’t want you to know what I was doing until after I did it.”

“I’m so confused,” Harry said blankly.

“Okay,” Draco sighed, “sit down, and spread your legs.”

Harry complied, but only because he was so confused. Draco manoeuvred himself awkwardly so that he was sitting up, in-between Harry’s legs, and took Harry’s right hand in his. “Now finish me off.” Harry still hesitated. “Please, Harry…. I need somebody else to touch me, because then I might be able to feel it more, you know what I mean?”

“I don’t understand the point of this exercise, but… okay.”

Harry wrapped his hand around Draco’s erection and began moving his hand up and down. Draco leaned his head back on Harry’s shoulder. “Mmm hmm… that’s much better. I wish I had more feeling though. I would have come a long time ago, and we would have been halfway through my presents by now. Oh…”

Harry began kissing Draco’s exposed neck. “You are so weird,” he murmured.

It did take Draco longer to reach his orgasm than he would have before he was hit by the spell, Harry found, but his attention was not directed at that when Draco indicated his coming climax. Harry watched perplexed as Draco grappled at the floor and grabbed a cup that was lying next to where Draco had been when Harry found him. “Harry,” Draco breathed, and then came into the cup.

When Draco finally began breathing correctly, Harry kissed his chin. “You know, we could have cleaned up the mess easily. You didn’t have to have a cup with you.”

“Yes I did.”

The former Slytherin began lifting and setting his legs down so that he was sitting sideways in Harry’s legs. Draco smiled wearily, kissed his husband, and then handed Harry the cup. “Happy Christmas,” he sighed.

Harry stared at the cup of semen nonplussed. “You gave me a cup of semen,” Harry commented vacantly.

“Yes, I did!” Draco said triumphantly.

“Thanks…. I think.” Draco continued to beam at Harry. Harry stared from the cup to Draco, and to the cup. “You gave me a cup of semen.” Harry furrowed his brow, thinking of the presents underneath the tree. Now that he thought of it, there were no presents for Harry underneath the tree. There were only presents for Draco. “Draco, you gave me a cup of semen for Christmas!”

“I know,” Draco replied, beginning to sound worried. “Don’t you like it?”

“Draco… it’s sperm. What would I do with it?”

“I can think of two things. You could drink it…. Don’t look at me like that. I know you’re a kinky boy at heart. It’s good protein.”

“Draco…”

“Or you could look at it as I see it.”

“And how is that, precisely?”

Draco took the cup back. “I present to you….” He pushed it back in Harry’s face, making a grand sweeping gesture in front of the cup with his free hand. “Kid in a cup!”

Harry blinked. “Excuse me?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Harry, you dense Gryffindor, you – half of our first child is in this cup.” Harry continued to blink. “I’m giving you a child for Christmas,” Draco elaborated. “Granted, she needs her other half given so that she can start to grow, and it’ll take nine months, but – ”

Harry let out an excited laugh, leaning in to Draco and kissing him passionately.

“Mmph! Harry, cup!”

Harry leaned back to allow Draco to set the cup back down, but kissed him hard when it was at a safe distance. When they finally pulled away, in desperate need for air, Harry laughed helplessly when he looked at Draco. His shirt had been pulled up so that it was tucked into his armpits, and his trousers were still at his knees, and he generally looked thoroughly shagged. Harry felt sad that he had not been the one to do it himself, but found it infinitely funny that Draco had been the one to get himself into this state.

“Merlin, you’re so silly, Draco. You should see yourself right now.”

“You try wanking when you have next to no feeling below the waist,” Draco grumbled. “That took forever!” Draco suddenly looked alarmed and grabbed at the cup, scrambled for his wand and cast a charm over it.

“What are you doing?”

“There’s no way that this sample will work if we allow the sperm to die. We have to keep the conditions ideal for them to thrive.”

”There’s plenty where that came from, Draco. We can just dump it out.”

“If you think I’m going to purposely become aroused before all my feeling is back, you’re insane. Healer Widduling said that this would be the best course of action since I’m temporarily paralysed.”

“You talked to him?” Harry inquired, generally surprised.

“Yes. I had to make an appointment with him, didn’t I?”

“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I told you I am. I wouldn’t give just anybody a sample of me.”

Harry smiled affectionately and kissed Draco. “I don’t understand what made you change your mind. You’re not doing this just to make me happy, are you? I don’t want a child that way. Well… I know it seemed like it before, but really, I’ll be fine waiting if you don’t want one.”

“I do want one, Harry. I just – thought we were young. Well, we are young, but I’ve thought about it, and we might need work….” Draco grinned, affectionately smoothing his thumb over Harry’s cheek. “But there’s never a perfect time for a baby, is there? If we put it off now and wait two years, there will be something else that gets in the way. And then who knows when we’ll have one, understand? Besides for our age, there’s really nothing that says we shouldn’t have one. At least I don’t think so anyway. Like you said, you can manage with your disability. I believe you can at any rate. I can work less. Lesser wizards than us have had children younger than us and managed just fine. I bet Molly and Arthur Weasley started when they were ten years old.”

Harry pinched Draco’s bottom hard enough so that he could feel it. “You’re babbling nonsense, Draco.”

“But you understand me?” Draco’s grin faded. “I do want a baby with you. I think it’s a brilliant idea. And I think we’ll have the brightest child this world has ever known.”

Harry smiled weakly, almost too happy to say anything as he leaned his forehead against Draco’s. “I think we will too. Brilliant and beautiful she will be.”

“Ha!” Draco exclaimed triumphantly, pulling away. “You believe that she will be a she!”

“Slip of the tongue. Come on, let’s get you straightened out so that we can go out and see what kind of gifts I got you.”

Draco glanced down at Harry’s lap and frowned. “But you need attention now.”

“I don’t matter right now. You have presents to open.”

“Fine, but I’m not letting you sleep tonight until I help you out.” Draco winked and Harry blushed.

“Stop it,” Harry admonished, pulled Draco up by the armpits. “Lean against the wall while I fix your clothes.”

Draco scowled as he hated being coddled. “I can fix my own clothes.”

“I know. But I like leering at you from this view,” Harry replied flippantly, bending down and tugging at Draco’s boxers. As he began pulling the silk up, he kissed up Draco’s leg, making Draco laugh.

“It tickles.”

Harry finished dressing Draco in silence and then carried him to his hover chair. Draco sank gratefully into it and left the bathroom as fast as he could, calling over his shoulder for Harry to take the cup of semen.

The two young men passed the rest of the night, finishing off the bottle of wine, and opening presents. It turned out that Draco had just forgotten to put the rest of Harry’s presents under the tree, so they took turns in opening gifts. Harry gave Draco an assortment of things from candy to clothes to fun trinkets that Draco had been eyeing.

The rest of the holidays passed in good spirits and raised hopes for Harry and Draco’s coming child. They had announced during Christmas dinner at the Burrow that they were going to see the Healer on January second to look for a possible woman to carry their baby. Sirius had made a toast to them, and it was something that Harry would remember well in a few years.

“So, what did it take for you to get Draco to agree to a child - blackmail?” Sirius had asked. Harry blushed and looked down as Draco raised an eyebrow at him. “No, but in all seriousness, Harry,” Sirius continued, “I saw the happiness that having you gave your parents, and if having a child of your own can make you even half as happy as having you made James and Lily, then I’ll support you and Draco throughout the entire thing. If you two need help with anything, you know that I’ll be there…” Remus elbowed him lightly in the side, “and Remus of course.” The entire Weasley family plus Hermione coughed in unison. “And how could I forget our lovely bunch of red heads?” Sirius grinned at them all. “You have a lot of people behind you both, and we’ll help you to make sure that your child or children, however many you may have, will grow up happily. So…” Sirius raised his glass, and everybody around the enlarged table followed suit, “congratulations to both of you. Oh, and just for the record, I don’t change dirty nappies.”

Even as Harry sat in the waiting room on the day of their appointment, waiting for the Healer to call for Draco and him, he could not help but smile when he thought of Sirius’s speech.

“Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter, please follow me,” requested the Healer as he opened the office door. Harry stood from his chair, grabbing Draco’s hand and following the older man into the Muggle office, and then through the magically revealed doorway. “How are you two young men doing today?” asked Healer Widduling, as they sat around the large conference table.

As Draco answered, Harry noticed a young woman with long brown hair that was falling down to the middle of her back sitting on the opposite side of the table and gave her a kind smile. She gave a small smile back and turned away from Harry, though Harry kept staring at her. She had strange eyes, almost like a large cat. They were a mixture of yellow and green, and seemed to glow in the dimly lit room.

“This is Tiada Mildewing,” introduced the Healer. “When Draco came in to schedule the appointment, he looked through the book and picked Miss Mildewing, bearing your interests in mind, I might add, Mr. Potter. Now, as I understand it, Draco already has a sample ready, and all we need is one from you, Harry.”

“Already?”

“Why, yes of course. What did you think this appointment was for? We have already retrieved several eggs from Miss Mildewing. Are you having second thoughts?” he asked when Harry paled.

“No, I would never have second thoughts about this,” Harry responded immediately. “I was just surprised.”

“Well then… if you would please retreat into the room next door. You will find an assortment of wizard magazines for your use.”

Harry nodded and stood up, catching sight of Draco smirking up at him. “Need any help?”

“I can manage,” he said faintly and left the other’s company.

It was oddly disconcerting to know that the people outside knew exactly what he was doing, but also did not mind that he was doing it. He felt himself lose his train of thought at inconvenient moments and would remember just where he was and would lose momentum. But he steeled himself and trained his thoughts on the one time he had come home to find Draco lying in the middle of the bed, completely naked, waiting and ready for Harry.

When Harry emerged from the room, spelled cup in hand, Draco looked up and smirked at his sweaty appearance. “Problems, love?”

“Shut up, Draco,” he replied, smiling slightly and slid the cup across the table to the Healer.

“Okay, that is all we will need from you two today. We’ll just take these into the lab, and in about an hour, we’ll be able to plant them inside of Miss Mildewing’s uterus. Draco has all of her contact information and she has yours. It will take a few days of course to find out if it takes, but I will be sure to be in touch with you with the results. After that, any communication between the three of you will be all up to you.”

They all bid farewell to each other and Harry and Draco took their leave. When they arrived in the Muggle exam room, Harry stopped Draco, commanding him to raise the chair so that they were of the same height. Draco smirked and rose up so that he was now two inches taller than Harry.

“Yes?”

“It’s nothing… I just wanted to tell you that I love you.”

Draco did not say anything, but leaned down and kissed Harry sweetly. “I’ve always wanted to see what it would be like from up here,” he stated breathlessly afterwards.

“Any different from the top?”

“No… I still like kissing you the same.”

Draco lowered his chair, put the Disillusionment charm back on so that it looked like it had wheels and wheeled out of the room. Harry followed him in a daze. “You’re being sappy!” he called.

“And you’re dawdling. Get me my coat!”

***

The next two months passed by in a hazy blur for both Harry and Draco. Only three days after their scheduled appointment in January, they received an owl from the Healer that the procedure had taken and Tiada Mildewing was pregnant with their child. Harry had been so overjoyed that he had fire-called everybody, stuck his head in the fire long enough for somebody to see him, called out, ‘It worked!’ and then disappeared again before they could reply.

It took until the end of February for the euphoria to wear off, and it finally began to settle into both of their heads that they were having a child. They began to frantically search all the wizarding baby stores that they had ever heard of and were in the middle of renovating the second bedroom in their flat. Thankfully by this time, Draco was out of his chair and was using a walking cane as his legs grew stronger, so he was of more help to Harry.

The never-ending feud of names had begun as well, so it was a morning in late August that Harry set out to find a children’s name book. When he returned home, Draco was sitting on the couch, reading the Daily Prophet. “I bought a name book that we can use.”

Draco set down the paper and patted the space next to him. “Let’s see it then.”

Harry sat, letting Draco wrap an arm around him. Harry snuggled into his side and Draco kissed his temple. “Okay,” Harry started, opening the book to the first page.

“This seems a little pointless,” Draco drawled, grabbing the book with his left hand. “I already know what I want to name my girl.”

Harry grabbed the book back. “We are not naming our child Ethelinda.”

“I think we will,” Draco smirked. “Now flip to the girls names. I want to start looking for our baby girl’s name.”

“How can you be so sure that it’ll be a girl? I think it’ll be a boy.”

“Of course you would,” Draco replied grabbing the book again and flipping to a random section of the book. “See? Here’s Ethelinda. They like it too. And it means ‘noble snake.’ That’s perfect!”

“First of all,” Harry began taking the book back, “I already have no less than two snakes.” Harry pointed to his snake, which sat in a cage across the room, and then elbowed Draco lightly. “I don’t need another. For another, that name is completely hideous.”

“It’s elegant and beautiful.”

“Says you,” Harry muttered, flipping through the book. “I already like my mother’s name, Lily.”

“Grandparents names will be a middle name if anything. It’s too confusing.”

“My mother is dead though.”

“Yes… all the same.” “Fine,” Harry sighed. “I have always rather liked the name James, too, but I suppose that’s out of the question.”

“Too right,” Draco nodded. “Besides, we’re having a girl.”

Harry chuckled, flipping through the ‘A’ names. “Here’s a nice one – Ava. Of course, I think I’ve seen it spelled E-V-A as well. Do you like that?”

“Plain, but nice.” Draco took the book from Harry and flipped through it.

“Riley is unisex…” he continued flipping. “Aeneas is a good one for a boy. I’ve always liked that one,” Draco said, looking through ‘G’ names. “This is ridiculous, Harry. I flat-out refuse to look at boy names. We’re not having a boy.”

“But what if we do?”

“Then we’ll look at boy’s names, but I’m positive we’ll have a girl, so I’ll tell you the names off the top of my head that I like: Makena, Ayida –”

Harry took the book back. “Buying this book was a waste of time,” he interrupted, “wasn’t it? You’re already set on names.”

“Basically… there has to be something you’ll like out of the names I like.” Harry put the book on the floor. “We’ll figure something out. At any rate, I stopped by the joke shop today and it was really busy. I told Fred I’d be by later to help out, so I’m going to go there for a few hours.”

“When will you be home?”

“Probably six at the latest. Do you want me to pick up something for dinner?”

“No, I have something in mind,” Draco grinned. “I’ll have it ready for when you get home.”

Harry grabbed and squeezed Draco’s hand. “Thanks.” They kissed and Harry stood to leave again. “Love you,” he called as he went to put on his shoes.

Draco smiled, leaning against the couch. “Love you, too.”

When he heard Harry Disapparate from the foyer, Draco stood and began getting ready to leave. He was going to buy the necessary ingredients for a homemade dinner for Harry. He did not really know how to cook, but he figured that with magic, he could do almost anything. Besides, he was good at potions.

The blond was home within an hour with bags of food. The majority of the day was spent in the kitchen, feverishly preparing everything from scratch. He managed to burn a sauce, but when he started again, he got it right. He also started two fires, but put them out promptly, and by the time six came, everything was laid out nicely on the table, candles lit to set the atmosphere. They were just a couple weeks to the due date, and so Draco was going to take advantage of every moment alone with Harry until then. As the time neared six, Draco took to waiting at the door to the kitchen, checking his pocket watch every two minutes. Soon, the time was ten after six, and Draco was getting agitated. He knew that it would be unreasonable to start getting worried at this point, but Harry had said he’d be home at six at the latest. Harry usually was home when he said he would be. So why wasn’t he home?

It had been busy at the store today, Harry had said. Draco nodded to himself as the minute hand ticked over the half-hour mark. But the minutes turned to hours, and soon it was a quarter after nine, and still, Harry wasn’t home. There was nobody around the joke shop when he called, and he called Sirius through the fire, but Harry had not been around. Remus said they had not seen Harry for two days. He called Mrs. Weasley, but he had not been there either.

Draco was pacing around the flat in a nervous fit by the time midnight tolled its hour on the grandfather clock in his study. It was not like Harry to be home so late. What if something had happened? If that were the case, Draco didn’t know what he would do. They had a baby on the way. He did not know if he could do it by himself. The Slytherin absentmindedly spun his wedding band, which was glowing faint.

This wasn’t right, he told himself. Harry would not stay out so long without calling. He tried calming his nerves before he nervously paced to the fireplace and threw Floo powder into the flames. “Ronald Weasley!” he called out. He sank to his knees, twisting his hands as he waited for somebody to show their face in the fire.

It took one minute… two minutes…. The only sound in the room was Draco’s rapid breathing and his black cat, Davis mewling to get onto the patio. “Weasley!” Draco yelled suddenly into the fire. “Quit shagging Hermione and get your arse over to where I can see it! WEASLEY!”

A very disgruntled Ron Weasley appeared in the fire. “Water works well for fires, Malfoy. You don’t need to call me every time you start one. Besides, I’m trying to sleep,” Ron grumped.

Draco clenched his jaw. “So, Harry isn’t over there?”

Ron scratched his head and furrowed his brow. “Of course not. You know he only comes here on Saturday nights. If you’ve forgotten, it’s Thursday, and I have work in the morning.”

Draco drew in a calming breath and spoke through a clenched jaw. “You haven’t seen Harry, then?”

“I already told you, you raving lunatic. I haven’t seen him. Besides, Malfoy…”

Draco stopped listening then because he heard the front door opening. “Sorry to bother you, Weasley, but I think he’s home now,” he interrupted.

Draco pulled his head back from the fire without saying goodbye and scrambled to the front just in time to see Harry taking off his shoes and cloak. “Harry, where the hell have you been? I’ve been worried out of my mind!”

Harry turned with a tired smile. Draco stopped in his tracks, the forming smile fading quickly from his face. Something was different. “I’m sorry, Draco. Some… old friends from school came into the shop as the twins and I were closing up. They didn’t give me much choice if I wanted to come with them or not.”

Draco took a step forward, not quite able to shake the feeling that something was off. “You could have called,” he said quietly, closing the remaining distance between them, sliding a hand behind his neck. Draco sighed – the warm skin, the musky scent, the emerald eyes… there was absolutely nothing wrong. Draco gave a short, relieved laugh to which Harry’s brow furrowed.

“Like I said,” Harry replied, “they didn’t give me much choice in the matter. And what are you laughing at?”

”Nothing,” Draco shook his head. “It’s just that when I saw you, I thought that there was something a little off.”

Harry’s eyes darted away, but Draco took his chin and made Harry look into his eyes. “But I had to have been imagining things. You still feel and smell the same.” Draco smiled warmly, and leaned up for a kiss. Harry, however, pushed past him with a shaky laugh.

“Of course it’s still me, Draco. Just as it is every time I come home.”

Draco followed uneasily into the kitchen, grabbing his cane as he went. “Yes, but you’re acting strange.”

Harry grabbed a small glass from the counter and began to fill it with water from the tap. “That glass is dirty,” Draco commented.

Harry looked to it and tossed the water back out. “Of course. I’ll just grab a new one then.” He opened a cupboard and blinked. “Plates. Right.” He tried the next one over. “Food.”

Draco watched him open two more cupboards before getting fed up and fetching a glass for him. “And you know that we have filtered water in the refrigerator.”

“Right,” Harry nodded. “I just didn’t know if you had drank it all…” he trailed off and kneeled in front of the dishwasher, feeling it up and down with his hand.

Draco sighed. “What’s going on, Harry?”

“Nothing.”

“Well, you’re the one who taught me the difference between a dishwasher and a refrigerator. And you also don’t know where our glasses are tonight.”

As he spoke he went into the fridge and grabbed the pitcher of water and set it on the counter. Harry’s face turned pink as he stood to his full height.

“I’m just tired Draco. And I’ve had a few drinks tonight.”

It seemed like a reasonable enough explanation, but there was still something missing. “Okay, so let’s go to bed,” Draco suggested, looking regretfully to the dinner he had prepared on the table. It was still hot, held by a spell he had placed on it.

Harry nodded. “Good idea.”

Draco grabbed Harry’s arm as he pushed past and spun him around, pressing their chests together. “If there’s something on your mind, Harry, tell me.”

“There’s nothing.”

Draco studied him for a few moments and then nodded. “Okay, so let me kiss you. And make me believe it.”

Before the darker man could do or say anything, Draco kissed him. The kiss was awkward, as if it were the first time they had ever done it. Draco was not impressed and it showed on his face.

“You caught me off guard!” Harry exclaimed attempting to make a joke of it by laughing. “Here… let me do this.” Harry threaded his fingers through the blond hair, sending shivers down Draco’s back. That was not different. Harry’s touch usually did do that. Draco was becoming putty in his husband’s hands as Harry brushed their noses together and softly brought their lips together. Draco slid his arms around Harry’s neck and the kiss deepened. It tasted of limes and salt. Draco moaned quietly when Harry ended the kiss and dropped his head on Harry’s shoulder, nose buried in his neck.

“Okay,” he mumbled. “You’re drunk and I’m paranoid.” Harry took a deep breath and sighed. “I love you, Harry.”

“Draco, I have to tell –”

Harry never finished his sentence as a loud blast shook the flat. Wood and dust blew in from the front door, carrying in three dark forms. Harry drew quickly away from Draco, who reached into all his pockets for his wand. “Shit,” he murmured under his breath as he remembered that he left it on the mantle of the fireplace. The dagger came flying into his mind, and he grinned inwardly at the thought of it on his belt.

“Draco,” Harry whispered and grabbed his hand. The three intruders stormed in the flat in seconds and grabbed the two men, dragging them into the living room. They searched Harry, withdrew his wand and threw it into the kitchen. Draco tried reaching for his dagger and managed to withdraw it, and was about to dig it into the man holding him, but another one grabbed it before it could meet its mark. The intruders, who Draco could see were Death Eaters judging from their masks, sent ropes flying from their wands to wrap roughly around Draco’s wrists and ankles. Without arms to balance, he fell to the ground. Harry’s wrists were tied up, but his feet were still free from binds. When Draco next looked up, Harry was standing still, his head down doing nothing. Draco could feel rage build within him.

“Harry, for fuck’s sake, do something! Don’t just stand there!”

“Shut up, Malfoy!” one of the Death Eaters hissed and kicked Draco in the stomach. Draco grunted and curled into a ball.

“This isn’t going to work,” Draco heard Harry say quietly. “Let us go. Your Master was killed years ago. Avenging his death won’t bring him back.”

Draco looked up to see one of the Death Eaters hit Harry in the side of the heat. Harry bit down hard and blood ran from his mouth. “Hold onto, Potter!” the one who had kicked Draco barked out. One of the intruders was oddly still, standing back from the fray, but within arms reach of the others.

“Is that what this is about?” Draco asked lowly, turning his gaze from this man. “About Voldemort?”

“That’s always part of it, isn’t it, Malfoy? But our reasons for coming here tonight are for much more than just avenging our Lord’s death.”

“Oh?” Draco raised a brow.

“We’re here for the both of you faggots. You, the son of a noble man; you who used to claim loyalty to our cause; you who became traitor because of a few sweet words whispered in your ear by this Muggle-lover, and a promise of a faithful dick in your arse.”

The Death Eater kneeled down and put his face – white mask covering the entirety – in Draco’s. “Does it make you feel like a real man when you’re on your hands and knees begging your Mudblood to stick it in? Do you do it because it reminds you of the better days when you were faithful to us and you were the Dark Lord’s pet? Do you close your eyes at night and try to imagine that the Mudblood was somebody else?”

Draco could feel the rage boiling within him and could feel the shake in his hands. He couldn’t get anything to come out of his mouth. Why was Harry so silent? Why wasn’t he coming to Draco’s defence? Desperation boiled in the blonde’s chest as the Death Eater’s brown eyes showed his enjoyment of the situation. Draco’s mind was screaming for Harry.

‘Why, Harry?!” he yelled in his mind.

Suddenly, Draco drew his head back and spit in the Death Eater’s eye. “Harry,” Draco looked to his husband, but Harry’s eyes were glued to the floor in front of him. He was docile in the Death Eater’s hands, just as docile as the third Death Eater. He did not understand. “Why, Harry?” Draco asked just as the man beside him clubbed him on the top of the shoulder in rage. Draco cried out, pain and sudden loneliness spreading through his body and mind. Harry was right here, yet he wasn’t. Draco was starting to wonder if Harry hadn’t gone out with friends after all.

“Quit messing around with him. Let’s just get this over with so we can go out and celebrate,” one of the men holding Harry suggested. The one beside Draco finished wiping out his eye.

“Right…. The point I was trying to make was that you and your Mudblood husband have had far too much of a hand in the lives of our Master, friends, and comrades. One of the most difficult times we had after losing an associate was when you let your Mudblood kill your own father.”

He tsked before continuing. “Those were hard times indeed, but I won’t bore you with the details.”

“So what does all of this mean for Harry and me?”

“Let me demonstrate.”

The Death Eater withdrew the dagger they had just confiscated from Draco. The man twisted the dagger in the air, the light glinting off of the blade. “This is a fine heirloom, Malfoy. Though I doubt it was ever meant to kill a Malfoy.”

“My father deserved it.”

“I tend to disagree.”

He gave a short laugh, and without looking he drove the dagger into Harry’s side, just below his last rib. Harry gave a small grunt while Draco cried out. “I believe your Mudblood deserved that. But I don’t think you agree.” He shrugged. “It’s all a matter of opinion.” He turned the knife in a 360 and brutally withdrew it from Harry’s side. “Don’t you think?”

“Stop. Don’t hurt him anymore.” Draco pled quietly. “Hurt me instead. Kill me, not him.”

“Oh, but we just started to have fun, Malfoy,” the Death Eater simpered. “Now the Mudblood stabbed Lucius three times, correct? The second being… his arm, I believe?”

The Death Eater holding Harry’s left side lifted his arm. Harry made no sign of recognition that he was in trouble. “Harry, do something!” Draco said desperately.

The armed man turned from the blond and drove the five-inch blade through the underside of Harry’s arm. The tip came through the top, blood spurting out of the puncture. It was all too familiar – all too horrible. This time Harry cried out as Draco thrashed around on the floor. Blood had landed on his face and clothes. He wiped his face on the carpet and attempted to free his hands. Something crashed into his face and Draco stopped thrashing. His nose felt numb and there was blood rushing out of it.

“Stop,” he whispered. “Take me, not him.”

He drew a breath and shouted as if it would change their minds. “Kill me!”

“But don’t you understand, Malfoy? Everybody knows your weakness is Potter. Everything will be so easy for us once he’s dead.”

“Draco,” Harry whispered through the blood in his mouth. He coughed and spit blood onto the floor.

“Harry,” Draco looked up.

“Don’t worry, Draco,” Harry smiled with blood in his teeth. “This isn’t the end of us – of Harry and Draco. Believe me. If Har… if I love you at all, I would never give up until I found you again.” He coughed again.

“You’re not making sense, Harry.”

“Yes, I am,” Harry nodded his head, his voice agitated. “Be patient. You wait and see that I –”

The man with the dagger growled low in his throat and drove the blade into Harry’s neck. Harry’s words were stopped with a wet gurgle, his eyes popping. Draco let out a strangled cry and attempted to reach his husband. The Death Eater twisted the dagger in his neck. Harry’s eyes found Draco’s one last time, and then he fell limp in the man’s arms.

“Your turn, Malfoy,” said one of the men as he dropped Harry’s body and stepped over it. Draco went limp against the floor, staring at Harry. His neck was bent in an uncomfortable position and his eyes were still wide with shock and pain. Draco only just managed to stop a whimper from escaping his throat.

“Go ahead,” he whispered. “There’s nothing I can do anyway.”

“See?” The nearest Death Eater sneered. “Easy.”

He took the dagger in his hand and pressed it against Draco’s neck. Draco lifted his chin for better access. He could feel it begin to cut into his skin, could feel blood trickle down into his collar. It was over. He was dead, but at least he’d see Harry soon. Maybe this is what Harry meant, Draco thought, about Harry and Draco not being over.

But suddenly, a loud crash came from the entry and all the Death Eaters were distracted. The blade cut further into Draco’s throat and he clutched at it. There was yelling suddenly, but Draco’s mind was beginning to shut down. He couldn’t decipher anything that was going on. Feet were running around him and things were falling to the floor. Somebody had just yelled, “Malfoy!” he was certain, but he did not know whom it was.

Draco started to roll over so that he could go somewhere. He was not sure where he would be safe, but he wanted to get out of the blood – Harry’s blood. But before he could get anywhere, somebody’s steel toe boot met the back of his head, shooting his head toward the floor. He hit his forehead with a resounding crack, and he knew no more.