Summary: Harry and Draco are really the only people in this chapter. It's all about them, and it's a little abrupt, but I got mixed messages from my reviewers. Anyway, the time seemed right, so I went with in. In this chapter, Harry and Draco reminisce about a beginning and create one for themselves.

Warning: Mpreg, slash, slashy scene, etc, etc... If you're a homophobe... how the hell did you get this far into the fic? Go away, homophobe, and find someone else to hate.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. At all. Ever. Life sucks.


Harry usually tried not to get annoyed at Draco, but as per usual, without succeeding. It was ten in the morning, during his week, and Draco still hadn't returned their daughter from visiting his parents the day before. Moreover, it really was a stupid idea to take her during his week instead of just taking her during his own...

At that point, he was fairly sure Draco wasn't going to bring her back without a reminder. With that in mind, he grabbed his coat and headed across the street.

It seemed that only a second later he was on Draco's doorstep, knocking sharply. Impatient, he knocked again a few seconds later. He heard footsteps, and a hoarse voice called out.

"I'm coming!" Draco's voice, undoubtably. A moment later the door swung open.

He hadn't changed his clothes from the day before, and his hair was still mussed from sleeping on the sofa. Diana rested sloppily on his hip, wearing a onesie. His eyes were just red enough to make it clear that he'd been crying not long ago. Unbidden, concern came to Harry and the words came before he could stop them.

"What's wrong?" He slapped himself internally for the show of concern in his voice. Draco's eyes had hardened against him already, and he ducked his head slightly. Draco had never quite felt comfortable crying in front of people, much less an ex-boyfriend. That brought another pang to his chest. How coincidental that one ex-boyfriend got him another?

"Nothing," He said, recognizing immediately why Harry was there. "Sorry, it was already late when we got home, I didn't want to bother you," He passed Diana over without fuss, keeping his head turned down. He knew it was silly, but he always felt very exposed when he cried, and feeling exposed in front of Harry had never done him good.

"Something's happened," Harry said, more stating a fact than asking. He furrowed his brow, noticing Draco avoiding his eyes. "Where's Zabini?" Draco looked down even farther. "Of all the times to be shirking duties... " Harry trailed off, watching with worry when Draco wiped his eyes gently. "It's him, isn't it? What's he done?" He asked, pushing down his anger and trying to focus on the room around him.

He stepped across the doorway, finding himself fully inside Draco's home for only the second time. He reached out to touch Draco's arm, but hesitated.

"He's not hurt, is he?" Harry grew increasingly concerned by Draco's silence.

"No, no, nothing like that," Draco replied quickly. "I'm just being silly... " He said, making to close the door. Harry didn't budge, not convinced in the slightest.

"Are you sure?" He asked hesitantly, but Draco seemed determined.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'll see you Friday. Or Saturday, if you want. Whenever," He said, all but pushing Harry out the door and closing the door.

Harry's hand stopped him just as the door was about to close. His thumb was dangerously close to where Draco's rested.

"Do you remember what I used to say to you?" He asked, firmly but quietly. Draco froze, hearing the words replay themselves in his head like a mantra. But this time, instead of singing them softly, Harry just spoke them aloud. "Let me be the one you call, if you jump I'll break your fall. If you need to fall apart, I can mend a broken heart... If you need to crash then crash and burn... You're not alone (from Crash and Burn by SavageGarden(not mine))," Harry turned, taking himself and Diana back to his own home.

Draco stood frozen there in the doorway for a moment, then slowly closed the door. He slumped against it, tears falling again as he slid down to the floor.


Harry slid closer to his lover, admiring the body beneath him in the moonlight. Every silken, damp facet of his skin stood out, calling out for Harry to swirl his tongue along every inch. He reached a slid his fingertips along the back of the thigh spread before him, watching in delight as his back arched and a slight gasp rose from his throat.

Leaning forward, he licked his way over that throat, rocking against the body under him. His left hand stayed under his partner's thigh, while his right came up to bury in the silky golden threads at his scalp.

"Harry... " Draco breathed, less than a whisper. Harry squeezed his thigh gently, in time with his gentle rocks. It then left his thigh and reached for the nightstand, grasping blindly for the bottle of lube he had there. Finding it, his other hand left Draco hair and his fumbled with the opening of the bottle. He slicked his fingers evenly, replacing the bottle on the nightstand but leaving the seal open.

Draco's thigh spread willingly, and Harry marveled once again at the seemingly endless legs. He felt around Draco's entrance, pulling a few longing moans from his lover before thrusting a finger inside. Draco was tight, and Harry made sure to loosen him before adding another finger. And another, and another, until Draco was positively panting and near begging. Harry withdrew his fingers and reached for the open lube, spreading it over his length.

Draco's legs locked around his waist, and he grasped the sheets by his head as Harry eased inside. Harry was slow, as slow as he had been when they were together. He shuddered in pleasure, feeling the tight muscles of Draco's entrance contract around him. He moved faster, careful not to hurt Draco. Draco began meeting his thrusts, pushing back into them and moaning with pleasure. Harry felt pressure building in his stomach, shocks of pleasure running through him. His orgasm approaching, he grasped Draco's length and wanked him in time with his thrusts.

When Harry removed his hand from Draco's hip, the angle of his thrust changed ever so subtly. He angled up a bit, and Draco saw stars. He reached completion seconds before Harry, and lay twitching while Harry's semen spilled into him. Harry leaned forward over him and rested his forehead on Draco's, kissing him gently. Draco's eyes were closed, and he responded softly. Harry pulled out and broke the kiss, falling to lay beside Draco. Both were breathing heavily.

Harry rolled onto his side and reached over to cup Draco's cheek, intending to tell him he loved him.

And then something woke him up.

Harry found himself on the floor of his parlor, having fallen off the sofa. He groaned, rubbing his shoulder where it had hit the floor. He sat up, pushing he throw blanket off and looking down at his lap. Cussing, he stood up and went to take a shower.


After a very thoughtful shower, Harry dressed himself and fetched some parchment, ink, and a quill. Sitting down at the kitchen table, he wrote a letter.


I have a question. I've been thinking a lot about that photo album you showed me last month. I hate myself for missing so much of Diana's life. I know that in a few years, that won't matter so much in the grand scheme of things, but right now I feel a bit like an outsider in her life. What I regret the most is missing when she was born, because that was such an earth shattering moment for her, and for you. For the sake of the father-daughter relationship I have with Diana, I want to ask you something a little personal. I can't find a good way to phrase it, so I'll just ask.

Can I watch her birth in a pensieve memory? If you don't want to, I understand. I just feel like I'm missing something, and that might be it. Thanks.


Harry sighed, knowing the letter was poorly written and blunt. Shaking his head, we went to Germane's perch and told her to take the letter across the street to Draco. He knew it was silly to send an owl to Draco across the street, and apparently she did too, but he also know he would never have been able to ask in person. It was such a personal moment for Draco, and he really didn't want to intrude on that, but the empty space he described in the letter was no fallacy.

It was at those times he wished he had a television.


Draco, sitting alone in his living room, read the letter a third time. It was out of character for Harry, but that might have been the nervousness about writing the letter.

He wasn't quite sure what he was going to do. He had already shared most of his pregnancy with Harry, but he had known that would never satisfy him. It would never be the same as being there for the duration of it. He'd seen the look in Harry's eyes, seen the melancholy look on his face. Harry regretted that he hadn't been there, and if Draco wasn't mistaken, not only because of Diana.

But her birth... It was so personal, so emotional and so entirely his and Diana's moment. He wasn't sure he wanted Harry to see how much pain he'd been in, and how he'd tried to handle it. He remembered with vague recollection that he'd cursed Harry's very existence. How would Harry take to that? Surely he would understand the pain he'd been in, understand that he didn't regret Diana in any way... So many questions ran through his head.

He penned a short reply.


Nine thirty on Wednesday found Harry standing on Draco's doorstep ringing the bell. He went over his mental checklist again. Diana was with Hermione, he'd checked the letter for the date and time of the meeting, he had put on antiperspirant... Everything was in order.

Draco answered a minute later, wordlessly nodding and stepping back to allow Harry to enter the hallway. It was late March, and still ferociously cold out, so he wasted no time. Harry offered him a tentative, yet firm, smile.

"How much do you want to see?" Draco asked, leading Harry into the living room. Harry opened his mouth to answer, and blushed lightly.

"Active labor and on," He said after a moment, flushing darker when Draco raised an eyebrow. "I don't want to miss anything," He shrugged, and Draco rolled his eyes. Both were desperate to make the experience as casual as possible.

"Of course," He said, sitting down on the sofa farthest from the doorway and gesturing Harry to the other. Between them on, where the coffee table had been before, sat the largest pensieve Harry had ever seen. It was ornately carved out of marble, clearly older than either of the two people around it, twisting like a tree trunk with vines up to the basin, where silver snakes with emerald eyes hung from the branches. The basin itself was circular, resting on top of the branches in an illusion of natural poise and structure. The diameter must have been at least three feet, if not more.

There was already lots of swirling thoughts running rampant in the basin, and Harry noticed that on the edge of the basin a name and date had been inscribed into the marble. Phinneas Black I, 1647-1922 was what it read, and Harry smirked a little. Draco saw it, and followed his gaze.

"One of the few things I inherited from Mother's side of the family," He said, drawing his wand. Touching it to his temple, he drew away a thick strand of a memory and shook it into the basin. "I'm warning you that I did get a little... aggressive, towards the end. I, er, might have said things... that I don't mean now, I just said them because of the pain," Draco said, flushing lightly, but Harry just cracked a brief smile.

"Understandable," He answered, and a smile flashed onto to Draco's face, but was gone as quickly as it appeared.

"Alright. Shall we?" Draco asked, leaning forward over the basin a little. Harry hesitated, and Draco raised an eyebrow.

"You should know," Harry began slowly. "Last month, Ginny told me she's pregnant," Draco's jaw dropped open, an accusing stare on his face. "She's not. She never was. I just... thought you should know, that she won't be around anymore. We were arguing, pretty seriously, so... she lied. I found out a week of so lather, though... and that's it," He shrugged, coloring lightly as Draco paled and his eyes hardened.

"I never liked her," He said sharply, and Harry scoffed.

"You never liked any of us," He said, without thinking. He stopped, jarred by how casually he'd dismissed their former relationship.

"Except you," Draco said, and received a short nod. "Thanks... for telling me. If you can be honest... I can, too," He said, closing his eyes a moment to long to be a blink. "Blaise and I are... over. We had... different views, concerning... this," He gestured between himself and Harry, staring at the pensieve. Harry nodded, and silence consumed them.

"... Shall we?" Harry asked, after a moment, meeting Draco's eyes with a comforting smile. Draco returned the smile tentatively, and they bother lowered their faces to the cool surface of the memories.


They landed softly in the middle of Draco's bedroom in the Malfoy Manor, blinking a bit to adjust their eyes to the dark. A large chandelier hung over the bed from the high ceilings, illuminating almost nothing but that area. The bed itself was large, covered in white sheets that contrasted to the large ebony framework and bedposts. Only two people besides Draco and Harry were in the room.

Draco's mother was sitting on the edge of the bed on Draco's right hand side, holding his hand and smoothing his hair. She looked tired and sympathetic as she comforted and hushed her only son. She wore only pajamas and a dressing gown.

Draco himself sat propped against several pillows and underneath a sheet, wearing a large nightshirt and presumably nothing else. He was leaning to one side with his face buried in his mother's shoulder, whimpering softly. His hair was slightly damp with perspiration, and the ends clung to his neck.

"Oh, dear Merlin," Harry turned towards Draco, who had spoken. He looked quite dismayed. "Is that really what my hair looked like?" He asked rhetorically, and Harry snorted.

"Only you would think such things," He said, looking around and locating a chair. He reached for it and grasped the back, lifting it to move it to the bedside. Instead of the whole chair coming, the chair stayed where it was, and what appeared to be a copy came away with Harry's hand. Shrugging, Harry grasped it again and withdrew another for Draco, and set them both at the left hand side of the bed.

They both settled themselves, side by side, just as the memory Draco unleashed a particularly loud moan. He rolled onto his back again and wiped his eyes, as he had been crying silently into his mother's shoulder.

"Where is that mediwitch?" His mother asked, glancing towards the door. Draco leaned forward on himself, closing his eyes and tensing drastically.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow," He cried, panting when the pain receded. Harry glanced at the Draco beside him in a chair, and his lips twitched when he saw that his cheeks were flushed.

"This goes on for quite a while. Are you sure you want to see this much?" Draco asked, and as Harry opened his mouth to reply, the door opened. A portly mediwitch with blond curls bustled in, pushing a cart of instruments and other things. Draco paled, while the other Draco sat up straighter.

"Can I please push now? This is unbearable," The boy told her, and she offered him a sympathetic smile.

"Every mother who's ever done this has thought the same thing," She reminded gently, and Draco gave her a look. "Admittedly, you do have your work cut out for you. Try to be patient, dear, your birth canal isn't even fully formed yet, it could be a while longer," She said, shrugging. Draco set his jaw.

"Check anyway," He demanded, and she sighed.

"Well, if you insist... " She said, and lifted the sheet at the end of the bed, nearly having to crawl up onto the bed just to reach Draco's legs. Draco spread them willingly, and her hand and his nether region were sheathed under the sheet. Both Draco's hissed at the same moment, and Harry looked to the one at his his.

"That's the most uncomfortable feeling in the world," Draco said, wrinkling his nose.

"What is?" Harry asked, and Draco smiled wryly.

"Being the least aroused you've ever been in your life, and someone shoves their hand up your cervix," Draco said.


"... cervix?" Harry asked, surprised and a little confused.

"The birth canal, which connects the magical womb in the abdominal cavity to between the legs, includes the cervix. The birth canal usually starts to form six hours before the water breaks, but it can break up to three hours early. Mine did, and that's why it was a little more painful than most male births," He said, then paused, looking pensive. "Then again, I could be wrong. The last recorded case was over two centuries ago," Harry raised his eyebrows, and turned back to the Draco on the bed and the mediwitch.

"Well, I'll be damned," The mediwitch said quietly, slipping away from Draco, stripping her glove off and banishing it. "It appears you're fully dilated, Draco. Can you tell me how far apart the contractions are?" She asked, but Draco moaned again, and Narcissa answered for him.

"About a minute and a half apart," The mediwitch blinked, taken aback.

"That's quite close. This is turning out to be a quick delivery," Beside Harry, Draco snorted.

"Didn't feel quick," He murmured, and Harry turned back towards the bed.

It progressed with all the boring elements that Draco had predicted. It was another hour before it got really interesting, and Harry perked up.

The memory Draco screamed, his face red and his neck damp.

"Shit!" He cussed, spitting madly. "Harry fucking Potter is a dead man!" He screamed, grasping his mother's hand tightly.

"You're doing wonderfully, Draco, you're almost there," Narcissa told him softly, stroking his hair with her free hand.

"Bloody hell!" Draco grit out, baring down again as another contraction struck him. He pressed his chin to his chest and squeezed his eyes shut, pushing with all his might. The Draco by the bedside winced, remembering the pain. Harry saw out of the corner of his eye, and reached for his hand. They grasped hands, entirely too focused on the scene before them to care that it was intimate.

"The head's crowning!" The mediwitch exclaimed, grabbing a towel and preparing herself to have a handful of newborn baby. "Just a few more big pushes, and it'll be out!" Draco's scream escalated in pitch, climbing higher and higher. It cut off eventually, and he panted heavily. "Get it out, get it out, get it out," He chanted, looking extremely discomforted. "It's kicking me!" He exclaimed, leading into another push. Narcissa laughed breathlessly beside him.

"Come on, Draco, you can do it-- here's the shoulders, now the hips, knees, feet, it's out!" The mediwitch exclaimed, and a sharp wail broke through.

Draco stared, open mouthed at the baby. Tears were gathering in his eyes, and began falling rapidly. She was cleaned, and her cord was healed. The mediwitch placed a hat on the tiny head and swaddled her.

"It's a girl," She said softly, placing the baby in Draco's arms.

Draco was shaking. He cried heavily, counting all of her fingers and toes and kissing each one. She was perfect. So perfect...

"I remember exactly what I was thinking then," Harry looked around at Draco, who had spoken. They both had tears in their eyes. "I was thinking... I was thinking how much I loved her. And how much I loved you, for giving her to me," He choked out, tears beginning to fall down his cheeks. Harry turned to him and brought his hand away from Draco's, instead extending his arms and letting Draco fall into them.

"She was beautiful, Draco," Harry whispered in his ear, drawing more tears from the blonde. "You were wonderful. You carried her and kept her safe, you gave birth to her, and you loved her. You've done so much more for her than I ever could... " He trailed off, rubbing Draco's back soothingly. He rocked him slightly, looking pensive. "... Do you still love me?" He whispered, and Draco shuddered in his arms. He fought down his sobs.

"Yes," He whispered back, curling closer to Harry. Harry was silent for a minute, and continued rocking him.

"I love you, too," He whispered, turning his head and kissing Draco's temple. Draco pulled back a little, and raised his head to search Harry's eyes.

Draco had never been able to read specific emotions on Harry's face, but he'd always been able to tell if he was lying. And there was nothing but truth in Harry's eyes, and Draco could have sworn his heart lifted in his chest.

They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, and then voices broke the silence.

Realizing where they were, they left the pensieve.


They were silent as they both drew away from the pensieve. Both stood, and Draco led the way to the door. He held it open, and they both stood there awkwardly. Harry shoved his hands in his pockets, and Draco stared at the floor.

"I meant it, you know," He said quietly. Draco nodded.

"I know," He replied, just as quietly. "What does that mean for us?" For Diana? He asked himself.

"I... I don't know," Harry said truthfully. "It's been two years this month since... I don't know," He finished, unsure how to go on. "What do you want to do?" He asked, remembering his manners.

"I-I think we should... try. For our sake and for Diana's. But we shouldn't just... jump right back into this. We haven't been together for a long time," He blushed lightly. "And we weren't parents then," It still shocked both of their systems to hear such words. Both men were only eighteen, and to already be parents...

They were silent for a moment, careless to the cold air wafting in from the door.

"I'm sorry... that I missed it. All of this, with you, and the baby. I wish I could have been there," Harry said quietly, but Draco shrugged.

"How long would it have lasted, anyway? If we had stayed together? You were fighting a war, you couldn't have been around for us," He said, and Harry felt a small surge of affection. He loved the way Draco said us, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And it was. "I remember when I found out you had disappeared. We were out of my favorite ice cream," He noted, remembering standing in the kitchen and pitching a fit about it.

Harry laughed.

"I'm sorry you were so inconvenienced," He chuckled, and though Draco blushed, he smiled as well. "Does it scare you sometimes?" He asked quietly. "How young we are? How grown up we have to be?" He paused, and Draco readied an answer. "Me because of Voldemort, and you for Diana? Merlin, Draco, I can't imagine how hard it must have been, trying to-- trying to take care of her all by yourself--" Tears welled in his eyes, but did not fall. Draco shushed him, comforting him gently.

"You'll make up for it," He smiled weakly, because he couldn't deny the truth in those words. There were times when Draco had wanted to bash his head against a wall in his frustration, but he had managed. And he'd had help, if not the help of a partner. "I know you will," He rubbed his arm soothingly, and Harry choked back his tears. He managed not to let a single tear fall, which he did a lot, and always impressed Draco.

"You're right. Sorry," He said, nodding. "I just-- I missed so much, and I'll never get it back," It was one of his greatest regrets, if not the top one. He had missed all of the early milestones in his daughter's short life, like rolling over and sitting up, or first smile. They all seemed so monumental. But Draco smiled, and a soft look came over his face.

"You'll just have to make sure you don't miss it with the next one, then," He said, and Harry's eyes shot to his, shocked.

"You- you mean it?" He asked, searching Draco's face. Draco nodded.

"When we're older. It would be nice, for us, if this works out," He said, and Harry smiled. He extended his arms and pulled Draco to him, wrapping his arms around his waist. It was wider than he remembered, but he adjusted accordingly. Draco leaned into him, and wrapped his arms around his neck, starting to feel the cold raise goosebumps on his arms.

"I missed this," He said quietly. "Just being with you. It drove me insane when the morning sickness started," He chuckled lightly. "Do you remember Halloween in Sixth Year? I was so sick... And you just sat with me. I don't recall if I thanked you for that," He paused, pondering. Harry smiled, though it went unseen.

"Your eyes said it well enough," He said. "How much fairy dust did you snort that night? You must have had firewhiskey, too, because you got so sick," He said, and Draco groaned unhappily.

"I don't know. I just remember the ROR afterwards," He said, wrinkling his nose as he remembered the violent sickness. Harry laughed.

"Who knew the Slytherins had such great parties... " Draco snorted in indignation, and Harry chuckled. "You wrinkled your nose so many times that night I thought it would stick like that," Draco gave a fake horrified gasp, and drew back a little to clap a hand over his mouth.

"No!" He exclaimed dramatically, reminding Harry of the energetic boy he had once been. "Not I, Draco! Can you imagine me with a little scrunched up nose all the time?" He asked pompously, striking as good a pose a he could within the limits of Harry's arms. Harry laughed.

"Yes, I can," He said, leaning forward and rubbing the tip of his nose against Draco's. "You'd be very adorable," And with smiles on both their faces, they drew towards each other, until their lips met softly.

It was like the fuse of a giant firework had been burning for years, and suddenly it exploded. Their mouths, so familiar with each other, melted into each other with perfect remembrance. Draco's arms were around Harry's neck, and he reached one out behind Harry to shove the door closed, just as Harry grabbed his thigh and pushed it up around his hip.

Finding himself completely in the arms of Harry Potter, a man he loved without shadow of a doubt, he smiled against his lips. Neither of them needed to see if it would work out, if they could be what they used to after all the time that had passed. They just knew.

It would be as simple and easy as breathing.


Author's Notice: If you didn't read carefully, you probably got a little lost during the memory scene. It was difficult to write, because I had to specify which Draco I was talking about all the time. But no matter. I thought this was a fitting ending to the series, don't you think? Who knows, perhaps there shall be another fic to go with it. I was think three years down the line, and... well, I don't want to give it away. Your thoughts are welcome, as long as they're not too mean. That would definitely not encourage me to keep writing and better it. I much prefer nice reviews. :) I hope you enjoyed reading.