Title:The Balance of Extremes - Part 1.
Summary: Harry attends a party and wakes up with the last person he ever expected to sleep with.
Warnings: implied mpreg
Author's Notes: Thanks to the HP Lexicon for small, important details. My beta is the best. Thanks to the mods at hd_holidays for running this fest!
It was morning. Harry knew that by the insanely bright light in the room. He groaned softly at the pain it caused, deciding he must have drunk too much at the Gryffindor party that Seamus and Dean had decided to throw last night. The “8th years” as they liked to refer to themselves as, had celebrated the beginning of the winter holidays with a blowout.
Harry had killed Voldemort eighteen months ago, just before his 24th birthday. He and most of the other people in his year had fought side-by-side during the war and returned to Hogwarts for a final year of schooling. Even the Slytherins had come back, with the noted exceptions of Draco Malfoy, whom no one had seen since Dumbledore died nine years ago, and Daphne Greengrass and Theodore Nott who had fought with their parents on Voldemort’s side. Both were in Azkaban, living out their life sentences. Of course there were those lost in the war: Snape, Zacharias Smith, Cho Chang, the Patil twins, Blaise Zabini, Fleur Weasley, and Justin Finch-Fletchley among countless others.
Suddenly he felt an arm curl around his body and someone snuggle into his back. Smirking, he realized that the night must have gone better than he thought! The arm was definitely male, which was a pleasant revelation. Ginny had been, surprisingly, the most supportive of all of Harry’s friends when he had come out. This may or may not have been due to the fact that Neville had been treating her like a princess the whole time and had made his romantic intentions known. Ginny certainly liked being the center of someone’s attention, and Harry was grateful for her support during his whole coming out.
Harry snuggled back into the body and felt a semi-erect cock rub against the small of his back. The arm tightened and a voice near his right ear mumbled, “Morning.”
Not recognizing the voice, Harry gave pause. It was a pretty deep timber and didn’t sound like anyone he could remember being at the party last night. Come to think of it, he couldn’t really remember much of last night.
“Morning,” he responded. The man behind him started to kiss his neck and suck on his ear. Harry couldn’t help but moan in appreciation and pushed his rear into the hardening cock. He was sleepy and was enjoying the attention, even if he didn’t remember inviting anyone into his dorm room for the night.
The voice asked, “Mmm, do you think we have time for this this morning?”
“I don’t have anywhere else to be,” Harry chuckled. His own cock was quickly hardening and he was quite sure that this was the warmest and safest he had felt in a long while.
Sucking on Harry’s ear again, the man said, “Are the kids still asleep?”
This caused Harry to pause in his enjoyment of the attention. He didn’t really know anyone who called 25 year olds “kids” but he could go with it. “I don’t really care what the kids are doing.”
“You will if they jump on us or come in at an inopportune moment.”
Who was this man? He was about to turn to face his mystery man when a hand wrapped around his cock and he pretty much forgot everything but the stroking and warmth.
“Did you get up with the baby much last night? I didn’t hear her cry,” the voice asked, interrupting Harry’s hand job.
However the man was very good at hitting all of Harry’s hot spots and Harry couldn’t process the words, even though he heard them.
The man began rocking against Harry’s ass and mumbled, “Fuck, this feels good.”
“Mmm,” Harry agreed and moaned loudly as his skin began to tingle. It felt like he hadn’t come in a while, judging on how quickly he was progressing, which was strange since the two of them had obviously hooked up at the party the night before.
“Not so loud!” the voice whispered. He stopped stroking Harry and asked, “Do you want to roll over and prepare me or do you want to continue just the way we are?”
“Continue!” Harry panted, not sure he’d be able to prepare anyone for anything at that moment.
The man’s chuckle rumbled through Harry’s chest. “Well, be quieter then. I don’t want to wake the kids!”
That was the second time he said that. The comment processed due to the lack of stimulation and Harry turned to ask what that comment meant. He froze in alarm when he saw the shockingly white hair and gray eyes hazed with lust.
“Mal…Malfoy?” Harry asked.
“Potter!” Malfoy moaned and shut his eyes as he rolled onto his back. “Change your mind? Prepare me quick, I don’t think I’ll last long.”
Harry gaped at the man in the bed with him. What the fuck was Malfoy doing here? Where in the fuck were they? Quick looks around helped Harry realize they weren’t in the dorms, Gryffindor or Slytherin, not that Draco would have had a room there anyway.
Draco grabbed himself and tugged a few times. “Hurry up, Harry. Use my wand; it’s on the bedside table.”
Harry jumped out of bed and the scrabbled for a pillow to cover his bits. “Malfoy!” he yelled, “What the fuck are you doing?”
Draco sat up and hissed, “Shut-up, Harry! You’re going to wake the…” A loud screeching cry pierced the air and Draco finished, “…baby”.
“Baby?” Harry shouted.
But Draco wasn’t listening. He had pulled on a robe and had walked across the room to pick up what Harry could only describe as a bundle of pink blankets.
“Shh, Shh Cissy” Harry heard Draco say.
Harry started at that. “Cissy?” he asked before he could think.
“Oh, don’t start, Potter,” Draco snapped. “Let’s not have this fight again. You knew I was going to pick the name Narcissa if we ever had a little girl. You named the boys, for God’s sake.”
Harry’s mouth dropped open. What in the hell was going on? “Malfoy, what are you on about?”
“You named the boys, Harry,” Draco sighed. “I thought we had solved this. You said when we started our family that if I gave birth to one of our children, I could name her.”
Harry started shaking his head. “Whoa, our children? What the fuck are you on about, Malfoy? I don’t have any children. What in the hell is going on?”
“What do you mean ‘what is going on’? You woke Cissy with your yelling and if you don’t calm down, Sirius and Quentin will wake and our quiet morning will be over before we can begin it,” Draco said, angrily.
But Harry’s brain stopped at the names, “Sirius is here?”
“In his room, hopefully,” Draco said. He shot Harry a look and tried to hand over the bundle of screaming blankets before he said, “Settle down, Harry. You take Cissy and I’ll go get us some tea.”
The screaming bundle was in his hands before he had a chance to protest, causing him to drop his pillow, and Malfoy swept out of the room, his robe whipping around the corner of the door.
Harry looked at the little pink package and was surprised to see a beautiful, blonde baby girl with her face all scrunched up in a fit. She was awful cute and with a little jostling and cooing, she settled down. “Are you really mine?”
“Of course she is, you freak.” Draco stated as he walked back into the room with two cups of tea and a bottle of what looked liked milk. “What kind of question is that?”
Harry jumped at the voice and rushed across the room to put the baby back in the bassinet. “What in the bloody hell is going on, Malfoy?”
Draco had sat back down on the bed and opened his robe just enough to distract Harry’s attention.
“Come back to bed, Harry. Cissy will be asleep soon and I checked on our boys and they’re still out.” He patted the bed next to him. “Come back to bed and finish what you started.”
“Malfoy, what are you doing here and why do you keep talking about ‘our’ children when I know, for a fact, that I don’t have any,” Harry said. He had backed himself against a wall across from Draco and close to the door.
“What’s the matter with you, Potter? I am here because this is my bedroom, too. You didn’t say you wanted to be alone!” Draco’s eyes narrowed as he added, “And I beg to differ, you have three children; two of which you gave birth to and the third who is sleeping right there.”
“No, no, no,” Harry’s eyes widened. “I don’t know what is going on, Malfoy, but this isn’t funny.”
“What isn’t funny?” Draco asked in exasperation.
Harry practically screamed in frustration. “This! This isn’t funny? I don’t know whose baby that is, but it’s not mine.” His eyes darted all around the room looking for his clothes. “Just let me get dressed and I’ll leave. Funny joke. Ha, ha. You got me.”
Draco rose off of the bed and walked over. Harry was still frantically searching for clothes and jumped when Malfoy put his arm on Harry’s shoulder.
“What’s the matter, Harry? You’re scaring me.”
“And why are you calling me ‘Harry’? Who put you up to this?” Harry asked. He continued his search for clothes, looking under the bed and in the loo.
Draco walked across the room and opened a closet door. “Here, Harry. Put on some trousers and I’ll answer any question you want to ask.”
Harry quickly found pants and trousers, surprisingly in his size, and pulled on a shirt before sitting on the duvet at the bottom of the bed.
“Where are we?” Harry began.
Draco shot him a look. “At home.”
“I don’t have a home, other than Hogwarts.”
Draco started to laugh but cut it short at Harry’s look. He crawled down the bed to sit next to him, but Harry jumped up and started to pace. “This is our home, Harry.”
“Is this some elaborate joke?”
”Why do you keep asking that?” Draco said, a tone evident in his voice.
“Because, I haven’t seen you in over nine years! We had a party last night in the Gryffindor common room and, while I know I drank a lot, I think I’d remember if I had become a father to three children!”
Draco sat on the bed with his mouth agape. “What do you mean you haven’t seen me? We’ve been together for 14 years.”
“We’re not together!” Harry’s voice cracked.
“Let me understand this. The last thing you remember is going to a party last night at Hogwarts?”
“Yes. Its holiday break and Ron decided to have a bit of a celebration. I…I don’t remember what else.”
“Wait, if you don’t remember anything, do you remember what I did to you last year on your birthday?”
“What do you mean?” Harry asked, looking even more confused.
“Nothing, nothing,” Draco answered.
Harry couldn’t help but notice that Draco looked like he had gotten away with something. Typical, it was.
“So, you remember Weasley, but you don’t remember me?” Draco huffed.
“Malfoy, I remember you. Believe me, I remember you.”
“All right, Harry, settle down and we’ll figure this out. So you went to a party and did what?”
Harry ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know, Malfoy! I drank, I ate and I woke up here.”
“I’m going to need more tea if we’re going to continue this. Why don’t I fire-call Weasley since he’s the last thing you remember.” Draco stood up and went to the closet but opened different doors. The clothes behind the doors were decidedly nicer. He began to undress and Harry turned his head in embarrassment.
“For fuck’s sake, Harry, you’ve seen me naked. You’ve had your cock up my…” Draco began, but was interrupted by a small blonde haired boy who had come into the room calling Harry ‘Dad’.
Harry’s eye’s widened as the boy walked over to him and pulled on his shirt. “Dad, I’m hungry.”
Draco stopped dressing and just watched.
“Feeling well. He’s not feeling well, Quentin,” Draco interrupted. “I’ll make you some breakfast. Go watch the telly for a few minutes and we’ll be right down.”
Quentin looked from father to father and walked out of the room.
Draco crossed the room quickly and put a finger in Harry’s face. “You may not remember him, Potter, but you will not upset him by telling him that.”
“I don’t know who he is, Malfoy. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know what’s going on.” Harry had thought he was done with craziness when he had defeated Voldemort.
“I get that…am getting that,” Draco said as he turned to finish dressing. “Let’s call Weasley.”
Once dressed, Draco grabbed the baby monitor. Harry couldn’t help but ask, “You have a baby monitor? Don’t you have a house-elf for that?”
Snarling, Draco answered, “You wouldn’t let me have one.”
The two men walked down the stairs and Harry stopped as they reached the bottom, mesmerized by the idea that his son, his little boy, was sitting a mere five feet away. Quentin turned and smiled at his dad, and Harry couldn’t help it, he smiled back.
Draco grabbed his arm and pulled him into the kitchen. “Make some more tea while I fire-call Weasley. You do remember how to make tea?”
“I’ve got it, Malfoy,” Harry said as he grabbed the kettle. “I can still make tea.”
“It’s ‘Draco’, Harry. You need to call me ‘Draco’ in front of the children. You’ll confuse them if you don’t.”
Harry stilled. “Yeah, okay, Draco.” He got busy making tea and was not surprised to hear his best mate’s sleepy voice grumble about the time. He couldn’t believe how anxious he was to see Ron.
Draco fire-called another person too, but Harry was distracted by the entrance of another boy, older than Quentin, but still young. “Sirius,” Harry said in wonder. This boy had dark, unruly hair, and Harry couldn’t help but make the comparison of himself at the same age.
“Hey, Dad,” Sirius answered and crossed to give his father a hug, “can I have some cereal?”
“Sure,” Harry responded, as if this is a perfectly normal morning. “You…um…know where it is.”
He was awestruck by his oldest son, and hardly heard when Draco said something about Ron coming through to whomever he was talking to.
Sirius looked up from pouring his cereal and says, “Uncle Ron’s coming over? Is he going to bring Edward over, too?”
Harry looked to Draco for help as he stood up and brushed his knees from the fire soot. “Not this time. Uncle Ron needs to help your Dad and me. Bring Quentin a bowl of that, please.”
“Okay,” Sirius answered and left the room, looking strangely at Harry.
Having had no experience with gay couples with children and having no idea how the family dynamics would work, Harry asked, “What…um…what do they call you?”
“What do you mean?” Draco asked.
Harry swallowed, “They call me…Dad…what do they call you?”
“Dad two?” Harry asked, confused.
Draco laughed at that. “No, Dad also.”
“Oh,” Harry said, embarrassed. He looked up as the fire flared and a woman who looked like Hermione walked through. She was heavier and older than Hermione, but she looked remarkably like her.
Draco smiled and greeted their guest, “Hello, Hermione. I hope Adam didn’t mind us stealing you away so early.”
“Never mind him,” Hermione said. “Hello Harry. I trust you remember me?”
“I remember all of you,” Harry answered with frustration. “I just don’t remember how I got here.”
“Or your relationship with Draco, according to him,” Hermione added, pointing back at Draco as she walked to give Harry a hug.
Harry frowned, “Yeah, that too.”
The fire flared again and a much older Ron came in. “Hey mate! What’s this about you not knowing who anyone is but me?”
“Ronald,” Hermione interrupted, “he remembers all of us, just not how he got here.”
“Or me, or his children,” Draco added.
Ron smirked, “How could anyone forget you.”
“Shut up, you oaf,” Draco laughed.
Harry started at both men in wonder. “Since when did you two get along?”
Hermione had been watching Harry and asked, “What do you remember, Harry.”
“We had a party last night in the common room. Dean and Seamus threw the party at Ron’s insistence. I had a few shots and I woke up here. I thought I had just brought someone to bed with me last night, but…”
“How old are you, Harry?” Ron interrupted.
“What do you mean, how old am I? We’re all 25.”
Draco emitted a low whistle. “Well, that answers why he doesn’t remember the children.”
“Or his relationship with you,” Ron added.
“Why? How old are you?” Harry asked Draco.
“A gentleman never tells his age,” Draco responded as he grabbed the kettle and poured tea for all four adults.
Ron laughed and said, “You ponce. He’s turning 40 this year.”
“You’re all 40?” Harry asked incredulously.
Hermione smiled, “Well, I am 41. But you’re almost 40 too, Harry.”
They all took a seat around the kitchen table and took a break while preparing their tea until Ron popped up with, “I think I remember that party. It was during our eighth year, right? That was the night we all got so drunk that we...”
”Ron,” Hermione interrupted, “don’t share anymore! We don’t know how or why Harry is here. For all we know that has something to do with it.”
”Wait! What do you remember?” Harry asked. “Maybe it’ll help me get back.”
”No,” Hermione answered. “Not until we know more. It could be dangerous for you to hear more.”
That seemed to make Harry pause. “Who’s Adam? Is that your son?”
Everyone laughed at that. “No, he’s my husband.”
“You aren’t married to Ron? Adam who? What happened?”
“No, Harry, we’re not married. And, well, if you’re 25, we haven’t met Adam yet.” Hermione answered diplomatically.
Ron turned to Draco. “Has he met the boys yet?”
“Yes, and Cissy, too.”
Ron laughed, “How’d that go? Did he argue with you about her name?”
“How’d you know that?” Harry asked, once again feeling as if he was the butt of some joke.
“Not much changes, Harry. I know you and I know how you responded the first time you heard the name Draco picked.”
“This sucks,” Harry grumbled.
Hermione frowned and asked, “What does?”
“The fact that all of you know more about my life than I do…again.” Harry stood up, turning his back on his friends and walked to the sink. From there he could see into the living room and he watched the two boys giggling at something on the telly.
Draco was the only one who stood with him and followed him. “Hey,” he started and put his arm around Harry’s waist.
Harry jumped and backed away.
“What?” Draco asked, concerned.
“Don’t touch me,” Harry quietly said.
Draco looked hurt. “Why?”
“You don’t know me, Malfoy.”
Hermione stood and said, “Harry, I know you don’t remember how you got here, but Draco is just trying to help.”
”You’re defending him?” Harry asked, incredulously.
“Harry,” Ron sighed, “we’re all just trying to understand what you need. Draco knows you better than any of us now and…”
“He doesn’t know me!” Harry said forcefully. “You know me, Ron. For God’s sake we have shared a room for the better part of 15 years.”
“Mate, I haven’t shared a room with you for nearly that long. That’s my point.”
Harry’s forehead furrowed. “So I’m on my own with this, then. None of you know me, or at least remember what I used to be like, and I don’t know you now.”
“Please understand that you’re not on your own,” Draco pleaded. “The kids and I are here, Hermione and Ron are here and we want to help you.”
Harry shook his head and looked down at the floor.
Hermione sighed and said, “Well, I’m going to go home and look up a few things. I need to make Adam a lunch before he goes to work.”
“Seriously? You’re making him lunch?” Harry asked. “That seems so…”
“Suburban housewife?” Draco finished, trying to hide a smile. “I know. It came as a shock to all of us.”
Hermione laughed and said, “Stop it!
“Are you off today?” Draco asked. “I didn’t think the Ministry was ever closed.”
“No,” Hermione said, shooting a sideways glance at Harry. “I’m going in late.”
Harry’s mouth dropped open. “You work at the Ministry? What do you do there?”
“Don’t say more, until I know what we’re dealing with.” Hermione chided. “In fact, don’t say anything to anyone about any of this. Especially the boys.”
Turning to Ron he asked, “Next you’re going to tell me you own the Cannon’s.”
Ron’s face turned red.
“You own the Cannons?” Harry asked, in amazement.
“No!” Draco interrupted, taking Hermione’s cue. “Not really.”
Harry felt even further removed. He didn’t know where he was, or why, and his friends were off doing fabulous things he couldn’t know about.
“Hermione, Harry’s not set to return to work until next Monday. Can you arrange something for a little longer? Maybe he could take his vacation days or something,” Draco asked cryptically.
Hermione nodded. “Hopefully we’ll figure something out before then, but otherwise, I’ll take care of it.”
Harry spun and glared at the two. “What do you mean ‘take care of it’? Where do I work?”
“Don’t worry about it” came out of all three mouths at once.
Harry scowled, but quieted.
Draco walked into the living room and told Sirius and Quentin to come and say hello to their guests, which both did with gusto.
As Ron was leaving, he said, “Relax, mate. I’m sure we’ll figure this all out. In the meantime, enjoy your kids. They’re great.”
“I’ll take care of work, Harry,” Hermione said as she leaned in to give him a hug goodbye. “Don’t worry about it.”
Harry frowned. “I don’t even know what I’d be worried about.”
The two friends left with promises to return the next day, and the boys returned to the watch their show on the telly. Harry and Draco looked at each other, neither sure what to say.
“Well I…” Draco began.
“Could I please have something to eat?” Harry asked at the same time.
Draco stopped and just looked at him. “You don’t need to ask for anything, Harry. You live here too.”
Harry nodded and said, “Yeah, well, that’s going to take some getting used to.”
“There’s food in the cabinets. Help yourself. I need a shower,” Draco said and stormed upstairs, obviously disappointed at Harry’s responses to his friends and his lover.
Harry peered through the cabinets and the refrigerator and ended up grabbing some eggs and fruit. As he prepared his food, he noticed that the boys, his boys, were giggling as they played a game of Exploding Snap. It warmed Harry’s heart, although he wasn’t sure why since the boys were really strangers to him. Just the simple fact that they had each other to play with made Harry feel happy.
Finishing his food, Harry piled the dishes in the sink and decided to go up to Malfoy’s room and take a shower.
He expected to find Draco sitting on the bed with the baby, or finishing getting ready. He entered the room and found it empty. After checking to see that Cissy was still sleeping, he made his way to the loo, but stopped when he heard a groan coming from inside.
Harry had lived with other men for most of his life and knew what that groan meant. The noise caused his belly to twist and he remembered how close he had been this morning before his world had flipped upside down. He quickly walked away, but after hearing the noise again, snuck back and nudged the door open for a peak.
‘It’s Malfoy, for God’s sake,’ Harry thought. ‘What the hell am I doing?’ The need to look overwhelmed any propriety Harry had.
Thoughts of his obsession from sixth year swam in his head. Harry couldn’t help but remember how often Ginny had teased him, once his preference was known, about how attracted he must have been to Draco during their school years. Harry knew it was true, even then, but wouldn’t admit it. The fights between the two and his fixation on Draco’s every move were legendary among all of their classmates. Now, here he was on display, and wanking to thoughts of who-knew-what.
From just outside the doorway, Harry could see Draco through the mirror. He was wet, covered in soap and moaning. The evidence of the Sectumsempra spell was apparent, as well as some other scars, but Harry’s eyes were riveted to the hand gliding over the erect cock with some amount of speed.
Draco’s hips were rocking slightly as the head of his cock appeared and disappeared in his hand. As his fist slid up and down, the most delicious noises were escaping from his mouth. Draco’s other hand was wandering over his chest, fingers pinching his nipples intermittently. A mix between a moan and a whine filled the room and Harry felt his own cock rise with interest. It had to be the most erotic sight he had ever seen.
‘Fuck it,’ he thought.
Tearing off his shirt to use for friction and taking himself in hand, Harry tried to catch up to where Draco was. With conflicting thoughts of how fucking hot the sight was and how wrong it was to be wanking to the noises of someone he wasn’t sure he even liked, Harry found himself spiraling closer to the edge. He looked down and watched his own hand squeeze the head of his cock . The simple visual brought him such pleasure. He glanced up and noticed that Draco’s head had fallen back and that he was moments away from completion.
“Harry,” Draco whispered, “Fuck, yes! Faster, Harry…please!”
His senses flooded with the cry of his own name, the warmth of the humid shower and the sight of a very attractive man. Harry’s breath hitched and he came, pulsing into his own shirt. Panting, he watched as Draco’s pleasure overtook his body and his orgasm was wrenched from his body.
Backing away, Harry threw the dirty shirt into the closet and bolted out of the room and down into the kitchen, tucking himself back in as he went. Embarrassed, he wasn’t sure how he was going to explain where his shirt had gone. Just as the panic was about to boil over, Quentin walked into the kitchen and said, “Dad, where’s my wanky?”
Harry almost swallowed his tongue as he defended himself, “I wasn’t wanking!”
But Quentin had continued and hadn’t heard his father. “I want my wanky back.”
“What?” Harry asked, not understanding.
“I want my wanky!” Quentin whined.
Sirius walked in the kitchen to put the dirty dishes into the sink and said, “He washed it, Quentin. It’s in the laundry room.”
Quentin took off like a flash through the living room and into a small room in the corner. Harry followed, still not understanding, and watched as Quentin pulled a blanket out of a basket full of clothes and towels. As the little one ran past, Harry spied a shirt and pulled it on, thankful he was dressed again.
It was none too soon as Draco made his way down the stairs. Harry came out of the laundry room and couldn’t look him in the eye. To Draco’s question of “Why do you have a different shirt on?” he scrambled up the stairs to take his own shower.
Harry tried all day to stay away from Draco. This was quite difficult because he also wanted to be around Quentin and Sirius as much as possible. They were the only bright spots in the miserable experience, as far as Harry was concerned. While the boys were unaware that anything was different, Harry wasn’t sure how to act with them and needed Draco’s commentary to keep him aware of the intricacies of the family. The ‘wanky’ incident, unfortunately, was not a one-time episode. Harry learned all sorts of new words, ‘binky’ for pacifier, ‘gutvik’ for bed, ‘nook’ for biscuit, among others.
That evening Harry watched as Draco got the children ready for bed. He gave them baths and helped them into nightclothes. He gave Harry a book to read to them and assured him that he could, in fact, read a bedtime story. Harry sat on Sirius’ bed and snuggled into both boys as they fought for their rightful place next to their father.
After the boys fell asleep, Harry stood in the doorway watching in wonder at the boys that were his children. Draco came up behind him and put his arm around Harry’s waist, a move that was quickly eradicated as Harry slipped out of the room.
“Sorry,” Draco said as he followed him into the bedroom, “I forgot.”
“S’okay” Harry answered. He looked at the one bed in the room and wondered what the chances were of Draco offering to sleep on the divan downstairs.
“Harry, how’d you enjoy the day with the boys?” Draco asked. He walked over to the closet and began to undress.
Harry looked anywhere but at him. Just seeing his body reminded Harry of the morning, and his cock gave an involuntary jump. “It was good.”
“Are they what you expected your children to be?” Draco asked, but it came out mumbled as he pulled his shirt over his head.
“I guess. I haven’t given it much thought.” Harry turned and studied a family picture, in an attempt to distract himself. It was a picture of the two men with the boys, obviously before Cissy was born.
They all looked so happy and Harry was so wrapped up in the image he didn’t hear Draco walk up behind him. “God, look how skinny I was before the baby!”
Turning in confusion to look at him, Harry said, “Huh?”
“Me. I was skinner before Cissy. The pregnancy really redistributed my weight.”
“You look the same to me,” Harry mumbled.
Draco’s face bloomed with a smile. “Really? That’s a really sweet thing to say. I know it’s not the truth, but it’s still nice to hear.”
“How old were they?”
Draco looked at the picture. “Well, this was two summers ago so Quentin was almost two and Sirius was just six.”
“So they’re four and eight?”
Smiling at the picture Draco said, “Yes, almost. Quentin’s birthday is in two weeks. We’re having the party at Ron’s Mum’s house.”
“The Weasleys.” Harry said in wonder. He saw Draco smile and nod.
Sobering at a thought, he questioned, “I can’t believe I have to ask this but are they all still alive?”
“Most, yes,” Draco said turning to look at Harry. “Arthur died three years ago. Quentin was named after him, Quentin Arthur.
Snorting, Harry said, “It had to kill you naming a child after a Weasley!”
“Not really. Arthur was very good to me. He was one of the first who listened to me when…”
When Draco didn’t finish, Harry asked curiously, “What?”
Frowning, Draco said, “Never mind. Hermione would be angry I said that much.”
Turning back to the picture, Harry shook his head. “Why would your weight change with Cissy being born? Did you eat a lot in sympathy or something? I’ve heard of people doing that.”
“Harry, you know…” Draco began, but stopped. “You don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?” Harry gave Draco an exasperated look and said, “What are you talking about?”
“I gave birth to Cissy, Harry, just as you gave birth to the boys.”
Harry looked shocked. “Now I know you’re crazy. I didn’t give birth to anything. I’m not a woman.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “No, you’re not. But there are potions men can take that…”
“Stop!” Harry said closing his eyes in a feeble attempt to erase the image that had just popped into his head. “Let’s leave that as something else I am not supposed to know.”
“I can’t believe no one told you about that potion! Could have been quite a mess if someone had slipped one to you during the war. Would have been one hell of a shock for you.”
“Mmm,” Harry responded, truly not wanting to think about it anymore. “How old is Cissy?”
Draco smiled and walked over to her bassinet. After checking to make sure she was settled, he answered, “Three months yesterday. It was a long pregnancy and labor. Not like…yours.”
“I can’t believe I gave birth,” Harry repeated. He looked down at his own belly to see if there was any evidence left.
“Twice!” Draco chimed in.
“Are they…I mean…are all three of them…ours?”
Draco immediately got offended. “Of course they are, you great git! You think I’d have just anyone’s baby? I’m not going to give up all that hard work for nothing! I slaved for years to get into condition for…well…what I did…and that’s why you had the first two. Your job was better suited for maternity leave and doctor’s appointments. For God’s sake, Harry, that potion is vile and the contractions were…”
“Okay! Okay!” Harry interrupted and stuck his hand out to stop the barrage of words. “Sorry! I just don’t know how this whole thing works!”
Walking over to the bed he sat down. “This is so frustrating! I don’t get to know anything; my kids are strangers to me. You and I are suddenly together and I don’t even know how long we’ve been together or where in the hell you were for the nine years after Dumbledore and…”
“Fourteen years,” Draco interrupted.
“…I’m not even sure why the fuck I am here…” Harry continued.
Draco walked over and sat on the bed next to Harry and, a bit louder, said, “Fourteen years.”
“What?” Harry asked.
Smiling indulgently, Draco said, “Fourteen years. We’ve been together for fourteen years.”
“I remember fourteen years ago, Draco! That’s one of the only things I remember right now, but I didn’t know you fourteen years ago!”
Taking a deep breath, Draco continued. “Hermione’s going to kill me for this, but yes, we did. You remember up until the holidays of your 8th year, yes?”
“Well, we met again at a summer party after your N.E.W.T.S. that year.”
Harry looked shocked. “Out of nowhere you reappeared and everything was just fine from that point forward? Ron and Hermione and the Weasleys and I just forgave you and we started dating?”
Smirking, Draco responded, “Well, sort-of. It took a while, but that’s when we got together.”
“And where in the hell were you for the nine years before that?” Harry asked, his anger starting to reappear.
“Don’t get all pissy! That’s all I am sharing, but now you know something. You’ll know the rest when it happens.” Draco said mysteriously. Rising, he added, “Come on. I’m tired and morning will come too soon. You’ll learn that too, with kids. Let’s go to sleep.”
Harry looked alarmed. “We’re not sleeping together.”
“Why not? The boys expect it. Believe me, if you sleep on the floor you won’t want to have to answer the questions about it in the morning,” Draco warned. “Lay down, Potter. I promise not to touch you.”
Harry saw no reason not to believe him, but decided to escape to the loo until Malfoy was fast asleep. ‘It’s safer that way,’ he thought.
As he closed the door, he swore he heard Draco mumble, “Besides tomorrow you’re going to relearn a lot of things, including changing diapers!”
A week had flown by with morning meetings with Hermione and Ron, learning how to change diapers, and realizing how in love he was with his children. Harry had heard Draco complain to Hermione that he missed Harry’s touch and that it was killing him not to be able to kiss him. After the first few days, Harry was actually growing to like Draco. He was funny, sincere, and wonderful with the children. They had woken up snuggled into each other twice this week, so Harry had been making an effort to touch Draco’s arm or hand whenever he could.
There were no more chances for Harry to watch Draco in the shower, but that was okay because Harry had nearly convinced himself that he didn’t want to see him. Nearly.
Harry and Draco had decided to take Cissy, Quentin and Sirius to the London Zoo. It was a wonderfully warm, late spring day and they decided to celebrate it with a family outing. That morning, Harry had tried not to laugh when Draco had dressed the boys in nearly identical blue trousers and white collared shirts. He had similarly dressed Cissy in a blue and white sundress. With the teasing words of “Aye, matey” when Draco demanded that he get ready, Harry bounded up the stairs more excited than he could ever remember being.
‘I’m taking my family on an outing!’ he thought as he showered and dressed.
The packed a lunch and headed out, choosing to take public transportation since Cissy was too little for magical transportation. Harry thought they made an adorable picture, but he knew he was biased.
“I want to see the cheetah!” Quentin requested loudly as they exited the Underground. Harry laughed at his son’s exuberance. He grabbed his father’s hand and tried to run ahead.
Sirius, not to be outdone, exclaimed, “I want to see the new Oryx!” He, too, grabbed a hand, but was conscious to take a hold of the stroller Cissy was in, so Draco would not be left behind.
After seeing African Hunting Dogs, penguins, jellyfish, and Quentin’s cheetah, the group stopped for a leisurely lunch under a tree. Harry watched in growing admiration as Draco fed Cissy a bottle. He seemed so at ease with the children. Harry, while desperately in love with them, was still unsure how to handle many of the things that came up. A near disaster the day before with a missing ‘Moo-moo’, which turned out to be a stuffed cow, taught him that Draco was much better prepared for the role of father.
The boys were getting restless, so Draco suggested Harry get some ice cream. Both boys wanted to come with, so Harry took them to the stand. Just as they were paying for their treats, a man approached the threesome. He was short and had a large head with round eyes hidden behind even rounder glasses. His head was nearly bald but for a large wart above his right ear, which Harry tried not to focus on.
“Hiya, Harry,” the man said congenially. “How are you feeling?”
Harry did not recognize the man, but tried to be friendly. “Fine, um, good actually.”
The boys seemed to shy away from the man, and Harry heard Sirius say to Quentin that he looked like a frog. Harry knew he must not be a family friend. ‘Must be a co-worker then,’ he decided.
Smiling, the man continued, “Really? I heard you were a bit under the weather?”
Harry shook his head to the negative.
“Haven’t been cursed by some dark wizard, then?” The man laughed, but looked intently at Harry.
Confused and more than a little concerned that there were dark wizards still after him and no one warned him, he turned to Sirius and said, “Go tell your father we’re ready here.” The boys ran off and Harry watched to make sure they made it back to Draco with no problem.
The stranger smiled again and said, “I hear you’ve been in training again, Harry. Do you know something we don’t?”
“Who are ‘we’?” Harry asked, angry again at being left in the dark. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Draco look up at him and the man, and quickly get up to come over.
The man laughed again and said, “Well, you know, all of us.”
“No, I am sure I don’t.”
Draco was almost to them when the man spied him walking toward them. “Well, good to see you again, Harry. Take care.”
However, Draco was quick. “Hold it right there, Mr. Dipdha. What are you up to?”
Shrinking a bit at the harsh tone Draco used, the man practically whimpered when he answered, “Nothing, Mr. Malfoy. Just wishing your family well.”
“He asked me if I was cursed by dark wizards and if I was in training,” Harry said, disturbed by the outright lie of his coworker.
Draco’s eyes narrowed in anger. “Writing another story, Dipdha? What’s The Daily Prophet paying you this time for a lie?”
“The Daily Prophet?” Harry asked, stunned. “You write for the Prophet?
Mr. Dipdha’s smile returned and he said, “Why of course I do, Harry. Certainly you know that. Perhaps the rumors of your illness aren’t such a stretch of the truth!”
Harry froze in horror at making such a careless remark in front of the press. But Draco rose to his defense and stated, “Get out of here, Dipdha. Nothing’s wrong with Harry, and we’re here with our family. I thought I made it clear last time that you need to stay away from us. Do you need another reminder?”
Dipdha’s smile deflated and he mumbled an apology as he backed away.
Harry turned on Draco. “Are there dark wizards out to harm me again?”
"No,” Draco sighed. “It’s just something the Prophet tries to make up every few years.”
Sirius watched as his two fathers talked, something that did not go unnoticed by Harry. He decided to drop it for now, and find out the details that night.
“Let’s go see the reptiles!” Harry announced, turned to find the exhibit.
“Komodo dragons have saliva laced with deadly bacteria. Having ambushed their prey, they often wait for the animal to die from the infections caused by the wounds. Young dragons hatch from eggs and live in trees for up to five years to escape adult dragons that might eat them,” Draco read from the sign to the boys in a very dramatic voice. Harry thought he almost sounded as if he was on one of those nature shows on the telly. However, Harry’s mind was still on the reporter and missed all of Sirius’ questions regarding the dragon.
The family moved to the next reptile and Draco continued his presentation. “Snouted cobras are predominantly nocturnal, venomous snakes. They are aggressive when disturbed and classified as highly dangerous.”
Quentin tapped on the glass and Harry grabbed his hand to correct him. “Don’t tap on the glass. Say you’re sorry to the snake for bothering him.”
Quentin looked at his father strangely.
Turning to the snake, Harry modeled, “Sorry, Mr. Snake. We didn’t mean to disturb you.” He looked at his son and said, “Your turn.” But Quentin just looked at him.
“All right, I’ll say sorry for you, too. Mr. Snake, Quentin is sorry for pounding on your glass. He promises he won’t do it again,” Harry said. As he did, he heard a strangled grunt and turned to look at Draco.
Draco grabbed his arm. His voice was gravelly when he said, “Harry, please stop it.”
“Stop what?” He looked from Malfoy to Quentin.
Quentin was still looking at him. “Daddy, you sound funny.” He turned to the snake and made a SSSsssssnnnnssss noise.
Eye’s wide Harry asked, “Did I sound like that?”
Sirius had gotten into the action and was hissing at the snake, too.
They watched the boys for a few moments before Draco responded in a strangled voice. “Yes.”
“What’s the matter with you?” Harry asked.
“It’s just not something you usually do in front of other people.”
Harry was really confused. “I know I don’t speak Parseltongue…”
Taking a deep breath, Draco gave him a pointed look and interrupted him, “It’s a bit of a thing for us…for me.
“A bit of a…” Harry began and then suddenly it dawned on him. “Oh, sorry.”
Nodding and sighing, Draco said, “Yeah. It’s a family place, Potter. Keep that in mind.”
Embarrassed, Harry exclaimed, “I didn’t do it on purpose!”
But Draco was teasing and he smiled and said, “I know.”
He noticed that Draco had still not removed his hand from his arm. The touch was actually quite nice.
Later that night after the kids were asleep, Harry approached Draco. He was sitting up in bed reading a Muggle novel, and Harry sat down near his feet.
“What was that all about at the zoo today?”
Draco looked up at him and smiled with amusement. “It’s a turn-on, Potter. You speak Parseltongue to get my cock up when you want to start something.”
Harry’s face colored in embarrassment. “That’s…um…not what I meant. I was talking about the reporter.”
“Pity,” Draco sighed and closed his book. “He’s an arse, Harry. He must have heard you haven’t returned to work and wanted to see of he could make something up to get a scoop.
Harry’s head fell into his hands and he grumbled, “Fourteen years later and they still don’t leave me alone.”
Scooting up, Draco placed his arm around Harry shoulders. The gentle touch was a comfort to Harry. In a quiet voice he said, “Yes, Harry, they’re still around. But they don’t bother you near as much as they used to. I probably shouldn’t tell you this either, but Dipdha and I had a bit of a run-in just after Quentin was born.”
Harry dropped his hands and looked at Draco. “Run-in?”
“Yeah, he made a comment about my ‘wife’ and I…sort of…cursed him.”
Somehow this didn’t surprise Harry. “With?”
“Morag MacDougal’s curse to keep him…permanently deflated.”
This surprised Harry. “The same MacDougal who was a Ravenclaw in our year?”
Nodding, Draco continued. “I got into a bit of trouble with the Ministry and I promised to take the curse off as long as he agreed to leave us alone.”
“Hence your threat.”
Draco smiled and was about to continue when a small voice called ‘Dad’ from the doorway. Harry turned but Draco was off the bed in a flash. Cooing at Quentin he brought him back to bed.
Harry stood and began getting ready for bed. After using the loo he came into the bedroom and was summoned to bed by his youngest son who was lying practically on top of Draco.
As he lay down, his boy asked for a snuggle. Looking at Draco, who shrugged, he curled into the father of his children and put an arm over his son. His leg fell between Draco’s and with a contented sigh, all three slowly drifted to sleep.