Title: Advanced Sex-Education
Author: Cosmic

Email: bananacosmicgirl at hotmail dot com
Website: cosmicuniverse . net

Parts: 3
Rating: PG(-13)
Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy
Pairings: Draco/Harry, Severus/unknown

Warnings: Mpreg, slash

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Beta: Anne

Summary: Draco knows Harry's been hiding something from him and decides to find out what that something is.

Author's notes: Thank you to my lovely beta Anne, the world's fastest beta! Enjoy, and comments are lovely. This is the final part.

- - -

Advanced Sex-Education

By Cosmic

- - -

Advanced Sex-Education 3:
Draco Malfoy: Better late than never

- - -

Draco Malfoy had never taken too lightly to being dumped. He had also never taken too lightly to being lied to, although that happened more frequently, being part of the Slytherin house of sometimes overly-ambitious people. But most of all, Draco Malfoy did not take lightly to being both lied to and dumped.

Apparently, Harry Potter hadn't gotten the memo.

Draco knew perfectly well that Harry – Potter! he insisted, because 'Harry' was way too informal – was lying to him. He hadn't figured out why, or about what, but for some reason, the lying had led to Potter breaking it off with Draco. And although almost six months had passed since that had happened, Draco couldn't let it go.

He had tried, in his sneakiest ways, to find out what was going on. He'd tried to bribe the house elves, put up Listeners by the Gryffindor portrait – yes, he knew where it was and yes, they had been removed within ten minutes – and he'd even tried asking one of the Gryffindors. None of it had worked – the Gryffindor he'd asked had looked as though he was about to pee his pants, and Draco had let him go.

He'd also tried, as inconspicuously as he could, to get some alone-time with The Golden Boy. Staying behind in class when Potter seemed to, hanging out in corridors waiting for him, trying to catch his attention during meals. But Potter seemed to be constantly surrounded by Granger and the Weasel – Draco had noted that they even seemed to carry the books for Potter these days. Draco rolled his eyes – The Golden Boy mustn't overexert himself.

"Draco—hello," said Pansy and waved a hand in front of his eyes.

Draco glanced at her, an eyebrow raised in a bored question. "Yes?"

"You seem a million miles away," Pansy said. She took a bite of her dinner. "Dreaming of strangling Potter?"

Strangling. Now there was one kinky thing they had never tried, although they had tried a lot. Draco felt the familiar stir in his groin at the thought – no matter what he had said, Potter had been the best shag he'd ever had.

Pansy smirked. "Or is it a whole other kind of dream?"

"Stuff it," Draco said, but without any real feeling behind it. Pansy had suspected strongly that Draco had shagged Potter, and he had never found any reason to dispel the idea. Other than the Dark Lord's wrath, of course – but Pansy would hardly write her parents to tell them.

"You really should tell him, you know," Pansy said.

"And what might it be that I should tell him?" Draco drawled.

"That you're in love with him, of course," Pansy grinned.

"I'm not," Draco said, but he couldn't take his eyes off Potter, sitting between his two best friends at the Gryffindor table. He looked – glowing. But tired, Draco amended, Potter certainly looked tired. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and his skin looked rather pale. Had he gotten sick?

Pansy smiled, softer this time. "Are too."

- - -

The Dark Lord killed and tortured, and would be trying to take over the Ministry of Magic shortly. Draco knew that it was now only a matter of time before the war came to Hogwarts. Would his father ask him to fight? Draco knew many of the Slytherins who were set on refusing – they did not believe in the war, or the expulsion of mudbloods. Draco, who had been brought up with the idea that mudbloods were foul and filthy, had yet to quite embrace the idea that they were not, but he was getting there. After all, even their Head of House, Snape, was a mudblood – and he was a true Slytherin, and Draco admired him.

But none of that filled Draco's mind quite as much as Potter did. Potter looked more and more tired every time Draco saw him, and seemed sometimes to be falling asleep on his feet in class. Granger had had to save him more than once in Potions, when he had nearly added a dangerous ingredient to some potion.

Because of this, Draco decided to step up his game. Perhaps it was time, as Pansy had said, to tell Potter about his feelings, such as they may be. He could not quite put his fingers on how he felt.

He had asked Professor Snape to hold Potter after class.

"And why might I do this?" asked Professor Snape. He cradled his black haired baby, a little boy, all the while. The baby fussed, and Draco thought the sound of the crying was rather like a light version of the Cruciatus curse – it gave him an immediate headache and a wish to leave.

"I need to talk to him, sir," Draco said.

"Couldn't you just ask to speak to him?" Professor Snape asked coolly. "You seemed to be getting on quite well a while ago."

"That was six months ago," Draco said. "He hasn't talked to me since – and he's always flanked by his goons – Granger and Weasley."

"Six months?" asked Professor Snape, in a voice nearly interested. "Huh. Must be time any day."

"Excuse me, sir?" Draco asked, not understanding in the slightest what Professor Snape was saying.

Professor Snape conjured a bottle for the baby and placed it to his mouth. Immediately, the boy started sucking, closing his eyes and looking content. With the noise of the screaming gone, it looked rather sweet.

"You're a bright student, Mr. Malfoy," Professor Snape said. "But sometimes, you're not very good at adding two and two together."

Draco stared blankly at him. "What?"

"I'll keep him after class tomorrow, alone, without his 'goons'," Professor Snape said. "Good night."

Now, it was that class and it was nearly over. Draco had finished his potion ahead of time and could spend his time watching Harry. He seemed to be in pain – every now and then, he would twitch, his hand going to his stomach, bending forward slightly. It looked like a rather severe bellyache.

A few minutes before the bell rang, Harry raised his arm.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"May I—leave?" Potter asked. He offered no other explanation.

Professor Snape didn't look impressed. "No. You're staying after class, I wish to have a word with you."

"But—"

"Continue with your potion, Mr. Potter, or house points will be taken."

Potter's face fell and Draco almost felt guilty. He wondered where Potter wanted to go – perhaps to Madame Pomfrey, to get something for that bellyache.

The bell rang and the students left as quickly as they could. Only Draco, Potter, Granger and Weasley lagged behind.

"Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger – you are excused," Professor Snape said.

"But—"

"Points, Miss Granger, will be taken if you don't leave."

Draco noted the desperate look Potter sent Granger and Weasley. Granger mouthed something that Draco didn't catch, and then they left, leaving a twitching, pale and – sweating? Potter behind.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" Potter asked Professor Snape.

"Not me, him," Professor Snape said. He stood. "If you'll excuse me, my son needs to be changed."

The baby, who slept in a carrier next to Professor Snape's desk, didn't look as though he needed to be changed, but Professor Snape left with his child. Draco and Potter were alone.

"You look like you don't want to be here," Draco said, walking closer to Potter.

"I—I," stammered Potter.

"Do I scare you or something?" Draco asked.

Potter shook his head. Draco saw the hand by his belly, tightly fisted. "I just—I have to go—"

Draco blocked his way out. "No, you don't. We need to talk first."

"Draco, not now—please," Potter said.

Potter had never begged before.

"Harry – what's wrong?" Draco asked and before he could stop himself, he reached out and touched Harry's cheek.

Harry hissed suddenly, sinking to the floor with one arm around his stomach. Draco kneeled before him.

"Harry?" he asked. "Harry, come on. Tell me what's wrong."

"Get Hermione – please," Harry said softly, looking up at him through pain-filled eyes.

Draco decided that it was best to do as asked. Whatever was wrong with Harry, he could not help him. He stood and walked to the door to go search for Granger, but did not have to go a step further – both Granger and Weasley stood right outside the door, waiting.

"Harry!" Granger exclaimed, running to his side. "Are you okay?"

Harry looked desperately at Draco, then at Granger. "I think—I think it's time."

"Time?" Draco asked. "Time for what?"

Granger shot him a look, but didn't say. She helped Harry to his feet. "Come on, it's not far – let's go."

Weasley came to Harry's side as well, helping him stay upright. Draco followed in silence, listening to Harry's heavy breathing and Granger's constant stream of encouragements. They walked up the stairs to ground level – the stairs took forever to get up – and continued to the second floor. Draco felt certain they were on the way to the Infirmary, when the trio suddenly walked down one of the unused corridors instead, and with a password, they opened the door to an old classroom.

Granger was about to shut the door in his face when Draco set his foot between the door and its frame.

"I don't think so," Draco said. "You're letting me in."

"No," Granger said. "He doesn't want you here."

"I can't leave him like this!" Draco exclaimed.

As if to punctuate his words, Potter chose that moment to scream in pain. Granger forgot about Draco and ran to his side, and Draco entered, closing the door behind him.

He found a room that looked nothing like the unused classroom he had been expecting, but everything like a hospital room at St Mungo's. A single bed with white sheets stood in the middle of the room, and stacks of books – all on healing, Draco realised – filled the floor as well as a small bookcase.

"What is this?" Draco asked. "Is he dying?"

Weasley shot him a scorching glare but didn't say anything. He helped Harry to the bed and sat him down, using accio to get a wet towel for Harry's forehead.

Granger performed some sort of spell, and muttered, "Yes, definitely time."

She looked at Draco for a moment before stalking over to him, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him into one of the corners.

"We've been working very hard to keep this from you," she said. "Harry didn't want you to know – he still doesn't. I have half a mind to expel you from this room, but I have a feeling it won't stop you now that you've seen this much. So, please just stay quiet and if you want to do anything, act as support to him. Try not to be grossed out, and if I hear one obscenity from you, I will send you flying through the window, understood?"

Draco stared at her. "I didn't understand half of that, but sure."

"Good. Now, stay here until you feel okay to be supportive."

She returned to Harry, and Draco wanted to run to his side immediately. He still appeared to be in a great deal of pain, twisting and turning awkwardly. Was he dying? When Draco had finally started to realise what he felt for Harry, would he have to die?

But then, just as Draco was about to go to him, Granger did a spell. All of a sudden, Harry's stomach swelled. Like a huge tumour, it grew and grew in size, stretching Harry's shirt until it tore, exposing skin pulled taut and a bellybutton poking out.

And Draco knew, because he'd seen Professor Snape, and enough pictures of pregnant women.

His lover was pregnant.

And obviously in labour.

And he had gone through great lengths for Draco never to find out.

Draco felt sick.

Harry had had time, obviously, to get used to the idea of a child – now Draco would only have minutes, possibly hours, until he was a father? How could he do this to him? What did Harry expect him to feel?

But then, he didn't expect him to feel anything, did he? Harry had kept it from him, knowing that Draco would be disgusted and not want to be a teenage father. He'd just turned eighteen! Of course, most wizards and witches did reproduce rather soon after finishing school – though his parents were an exception to that rule – and they would be finishing in a month or so. But graduating with an infant tying him down? He had planned to travel – preferably as far away from the Dark Lord as possible, using some Potion scholarship as an excuse, or something like that. He had certainly not been planning on being a father – if he was to be a father at all. He didn't really see himself as one.

That would have to change, obviously, as Harry screamed bloody murder before him. Granger had transformed the bed a bit and Harry was in a sort of sitting position, his back and arse towards Granger and Draco. He was leaning forward, his fists white and what little could be seen of his face ashen.

"As the magical womb is attached to the rectum that is the way the child will be born. The other possibility is a so-called C-section, but it is only used when problems are anticipated or arise during the birth."

Draco recalled suddenly the words of Professor Snape, from the sex-ed class that he'd held back in October. With sudden clarity, he remembered the whole lesson – and how Harry had run out of there. Soon after, he'd broken it off with Draco, making Draco rather confused, as he'd thought they'd had a good thing going.

If Harry had been pregnant at the time, and had just found out – had he found out because he recognised the symptoms Professor Snape had described? Was that why he had run out of the classroom? Was that the reason for their sudden, permanent break-up?

Harry screamed and Draco looked up. Granger sat at Harry's bottom, studying him in a way that Draco was sure would have made Harry blush beet red, had he not been in such pain.

"From the seventh month and on, the carrier is forced to take a variety of potions to prepare the body for as smooth a birth as possible. There have been cases where the male has gone without these potions, but the death rate of both carrier and baby is a little over sixty percent, versus births with the potions where the death rate is around five percent."

Draco hoped to Merlin that Granger had been able to get those potions for Harry. But what if she hadn't? Was Draco about to lose the best thing he'd ever had, without ever really having it?

It tore at his heart to hear Harry grunt and scream, panting hard. Draco could only see the hint of his large stomach, bulging out, looking completely unnatural because Draco had only ever seen the flat, muscled planes of Harry's belly. And he hadn't seen anything else in the months that had passed either – Harry had obviously used some sort of spell to hide it, lest the whole school – the whole Wizarding World – would have known about it.

"Come on, Harry, keep at it," he heard Granger say, "just breathe. Try to remember those breathing exercises we've been doing."

Breathing exercises. Draco felt a sudden flash of jealousy – why hadn't he been allowed to take part in this? Why had he been left out, without so much as an option to say yes or no?

Because it would have hurt him too much if you'd said no.

And you would have.

He answered the questions by himself, and squeezed his eyes shut, willing the thoughts away. They wouldn't leave him – he knew himself far too well. He'd have laughed in Harry's face upon seeing a slightly bulging tummy beneath those worn robes of his. He'd have called Harry a girl, easy, a wimp, told him that the baby wasn't his.

Oddly, none of those things occurred to Draco to say now. Harry might be pregnant – giving birth – but he was no girl. As far as Draco knew, he'd never been with anyone but Draco, which made him anything but easy, and it also made it perfectly clear that the baby that would soon enter the world was definitely his. And considering how hard Harry now screamed, the pain he was going through, he was most certainly not a wimp.

The room silenced for a few moments as Harry collected enough air to scream again, and Draco had to assume that Granger had sound-proofed the room, because otherwise every person in Hogwarts should be able to hear those screams.

"Are you going to get over here to see your baby be born?"

Draco looked up and found Granger watching him. The brown eyes were kind, but challenging. She wanted him to prove himself as something other than the pathetic Slytherin she saw. Wanted him to be there for Harry when Harry really needed him.

And Draco realised that he wanted to be there for Harry – and their baby.

He might not have forgiven Harry for not telling him, for going through this alone without giving Draco a choice, but for now, it would have to be put aside. Even if Granger had given Harry those potions, there was still a five percent mortality rate – and Draco would not have Harry die on him now that Draco had finally realised that he loved the stupid prick.

His steps were shaky and he was fairly certain that his face was grey, but he made his way over to Harry. Weasley stood on Harry's other side, supporting, telling Harry how to breathe, and being Granger's aide all the while.

Harry panted, screamed, and at first did not seem aware at all that Draco was there. Then Draco took Harry's hand in his and squeezed, and Harry opened his eyes briefly, his eyes not wide but shocked nonetheless.

"Draco?"

"Yeah. Hi. It's nice to see you."

Harry grunted, and Draco felt Harry's arm shake beneath his hand. Harry bit his lip, obviously trying not to scream.

"You're not supposed—to be here," Harry panted.

"Yeah, well, I don't usually do what people tell me to," Draco said. "So, we're having a baby?"

He held a conversational tone, almost as though he was talking about the weather, but he hoped his eyes showed his love.

"It—would seem that way," Harry said.

"That's good to know," Draco said.

Then Harry screamed again, his entire body shaking. Draco leaned forward and kissed his forehead and for a moment, the lines on Harry's face relaxed, just a little bit.

"Harry, it's time, time to push," Hermione said. "When the next one comes around, I want you to push, okay?"

Harry grunted his response. He glanced up at Draco briefly.

"Glad you're here."

"Glad to be here," Draco said.

Then he held on, as Harry nearly crushed his hand, and the Potter-Malfoy son was born.

- - -

The end

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Author's notes: Reviews are rewarded with cookies! I hope you enjoyed; I doubt there'll be any more now.