Tis Better To Love
Summary: Harry loved him, loved him with all his might - but it wasn't enough. Left with his only chance of happiness he promises not to fall under the lure of love. Unfortunately...
A/N: Yes this is Slash, yes this is MPreg, yes this is... a lot of things but I hope you enjoy it. Any questions feel free to email or leave a review with your email (or logged on) so I can quickly answer them. It should be obvious, this isn't betaed but it has been looked over and spell checked. ENJOY!!
It was during 6th year we started going steady. All the blame could be placed on Professor McGonagall, she insisted on pairing us up for some project. During Seventh year our on and off again relationship became permanent, the war was full swing and by the time the NEWT's arrived I was unconscious in the infirmary due to the demise of a miserable 'Dark Lord' bastard.
Draco had stood by my side, refusing Madame Pomfrey's threats, because of that little feat Ron warmed up to the Snake, my code name for my Slytherin. In my Gryffindor mind I had expected us to remain together forever, get married, adopt children, and just live peacefully in our own home.
How more wrong could I have been?
One year after Hogwarts I found myself packing my bags. Once, it seemed just a long time ago instead of yesterday, him and I owned our own flat. He took up some position in the ministry and I continued something non violent – writing. I wrote gay erotic fantasy in the muggle world under an alias. Draco loved to read my works, it made him hornier than Fang in heat I'll tell you. Actually he was my inspiration for most of my character's passionate moments.
Though, nothing good ever lasts long for me. Soon, we constantly fought; he would find reasons to pick fights, once we fought over a dirty spoon in the kitchen sink. He began staying later at his job, it was too much like one of my characters in a new series I was currently mixed up in. After too many nights of sitting at the dinning table watching the candles' melt, dinner getting cold, and no note, I finally realized I was being played.
I sat myself on the bed we christened the minute it was settled, the entire night I sat at the edge of the bed toying with the promise ring that had been set on my finger. I had once promised I wouldn't ever remove the ring, I vowed as long as we loved one another that, that ring would remain where it had been placed. As the sun crept up, the dark sky illuminating in beautiful shades I cried. I don't think I've felt more broken, alone, hurt, than at that moment.
I can just feel it deep down that the man whom I loved with all that I possessed was having an affair… I tried denying it, I ignored the faint smell of unfamiliar cologne, and I brushed it off when we made love less and less, while we had un-meaningful sex more often than not.
Empty hearted and cold I packed my belongings in several suitcases. I emptied my side of the drawers, the closet, and I dumped all of my books, emptied out my organized mess of a desk, all that I had, that meant something was stuffed inside the three suitcases. Finally, as the hour of mad dashing slowed and simply ticked by with no sign of my Slytherin, my Snake, I pulled off my promise ring. As I stared down at the simple platinum ring my hands trembled and I could feel that lump of grief in my chest begin to burn… I toss the now worthless piece of metal on his side of the bed.
Shrinking my belongings I pocket them. I'm suddenly feeling empty, the flat feels empty but why should I care. Why should I shed more tears when someone who claimed to have loved me treated me like shit? As if I was worthless? I wasn't worthless… maybe if I say it enough I'll believe in it more.
A week passes and I've shut myself away. Paying by cash I shut myself away inside a hut on a private island. There is no electricity, no telephone, no nothing but seclusion, and the smell of the clear salty ocean, the sound of the waves and the occasional noise from the native animals. I've yet to unpack, I could afford to live the rest of my days here, live alone and secluded from the painful memories. I know my friends and family are worried but I just can't simply bring myself to care.
I've cried my eyes out nightly, for that I'm ashamed to admit considering I try my best not to think of him and what I miss, what I've lost, throughout the day. I take my solace on the hammock tied to two tropical trees while a typewriter is settled on my lap. For hours on end I do nothing but stare out into the horizon where I see nothing but endless water and type for all I'm worth. Within a weeks time I've finished a romance fantasy novella. It's a thousand plus pages, but in neither page is their any sort of smut. I've also managed to write several short stories, all quite angst filled and depressing.
As the week comes to an end I'm stuck thigh deep in the cool calm water. If I was so inclined and stupid I could have continued walking, no longer having to worry about this permanent ache in my chest but I always squash those thoughts, grinding them until they're nothing but a bad memory. Staring up at the night sky, the stars are twinkling down at me, each holding a secret, yet none of them ready to give it away. I made a decision there and then… I would lock my heart away, throw the key away, I've loved once, I know how happy I was, I just simply can't take another heart break – this time I'm sure I would continue walking.
It was nearing noon on my last day on the small island that I fell terribly ill. During the morning hours my head ached and I found the rocking of the hammock or chair had me tasting bile in the back of my throat. As I settled the teakettle from the flame, my stomach flopped, this feeling happened periodically through the day but none as demanding as this. Breathing deeply and exhaling slowly didn't work, before I knew it, I was rushing to the bathroom where I retched violently. My face was red, my eyes ached from the strain, my chest was tight and burning, my throat was raw, and I was exhausted. Managing to wash my mouth out quickly with water I felt my way to the bed where I slept until the sun was just lowering and the pinks and purple illuminated the sky.
Waking up I regretted it immediately. Vomiting nothing but vile yellowish green stomach acid wasn't fun and quite painful. After that brief stint in the bathroom I gradually began to feel immensely better. Soon I was able to eat as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred… that is until my nose caught whiff of the smell of chicken. The previous day I had made skewers of chicken and vegetables but as they were placed on the outdoor grill I had to chuck them as far as possible before I vomited again.
Soon there was a ding signaling the floo that was hidden away in a corner was being accessed. It took me a moment but I tossed in floo powder and a head floated before me. "Mr. Potter. Do you wish to continue your stay or are you coming through within the hour?" It doesn't take me long and I decide to stay for the remainder of two more weeks. The amount was quickly taken from my vault and my request for an owl was swiftly given. By the time I was ready to crawl into bed I had sent out several letters.
2 weeks later…
I've met with my solicitor. I hadn't stayed those full 14 days, instead I've returned to the 'real world' after 12 days. I fear going to Saint Mungo's, I shudder at the thought of Madame Pomfrey scowling down at me or offering me some vile potion. I'm not delusional; my illness hasn't abated. I often wondered how I would meet my end and I was one hundred percent sure it would be through Voldemort – of course that was before I had my Sna… I mean Malfoy by my side.
It's gotten worst. The reaction of Mr. Goodthrow, my solicitor, was enough to tell me I looked dreadful. Of course the man was ever professional, never mentioning it, but he spoke softer, even transfigured me a warm blanket when I began to feel a chill. I couldn't help but say, "Do I look as dreadful as I feel?" of course I said this with amusement. I've come to terms with my impending doom.
He was never a sugar coating man. "You look like death warmed over."
I laughed for the first time in what seem ages. "Probably any day now hu?" Tired, I tilt my head into my hand, forcing my eyes to remain open.
"Just a few more loose ends to tie and then I suggest you at the very least see a professional." He say's concern leaking through.
I couldn't help but grin. "I've been told that for years."
Here I am. I managed to get some sleep, ate some food, and placed a cosmetic charm on my face. I'm still dreadfully thin but the circles under my eyes are gone and the sickly pallor smoothed over. The door swings open and before I can say a quick greeting I'm swept up into a bone-crushing hug. It takes all my willpower to not retch – on Ron.
"Where in the bloody hell have you been?" It's not a question, he knew where I was, and I guess he doesn't know how to ask the true question.
"On the moon." I managed to gasp out.
Ron had moved away and was looking me over, his hands on my shoulder keeping me from bolting – he knows me too well. "'Mione!" he shouts.
Now I'm screwed. "Ron, please." I beg pitifully.
"Shut up Harry. 'Mione!" he drags me inside and plops me in a very comfortable couch, my favorite couch of their apartment actually.
"What!" there's a shout from the second floor; an aggravated one.
"Harry's here! Bring your stuff!"
"God Ron," I whine. "That was unnecessary."
"If you can't handle yourself properly either it's me or mum." My horrified expression was enough answer. "Now shut up, sit still, and take it like any resigned wizard."
"I despise you." I grouch out, settling back. "I won't be one of her experiments."
"Good lord Harry! What have you done to yourself now?" Hermione says as she rushes into the room, black bag in hand. "If this keeps up we might have to assign you a chaperone."
"Very funny." I grumble before I'm poked and prodded.
"Remove that glamour this instant." Hermione ordered as she dug through black bag, arms deep inside.
"It's only on my face."
"I have some ointment here somewhere… aha!" She held out a small container. "This will help for the black under the eyes and mend whatever you managed to strain in your eyes."
"Fine I'll do it when I get home. So what's the prognosis, a couple of days or months?"
Hermione, for the first time, gave me a smile. "You're simply exhausted Harry."
I'm hard pressed to believe her. "Hermione, I love you dearly, but you must be wrong." I see Ron take a step back, away from his long time girlfriend – smart friend. "I've been sick, and I'm not talking about some bug or virus."
She frowned. "My scans show me bruising of your esophagus, exhaustion, and some minor stuff. Are you sure?"
"I'm dying Hermione, I can feel it. Something's severely wrong with me and I don't think a simple wave of the wand or potion could help."
"If you move I'll kill you myself." I watched as one of the smartest witches I had the privileges to meet stand and floo somewhere.
"Where the hell did she go now?"
Ron stared down at me, his face closed off which is strange considering he was adapt to hiding anything. "You're serious aren't you mate?"
"Dead serious." Excuse my pun.
I don't know whether to be amused or horrified. Not a minute later I see the last person I expected – Madame Pomfrey. I cared for the woman dearly and visited quite often, but her tendencies to smother were annoying. I've been forced to strip to my boxers as she also poked and prodded me with cold hands – normally she warms them but I guess I must suffer for my stupidity as she said more than once within that hour. Soon though I'm wrapped in a warm blanket and have a very strong cup of honey brew tea warming my hands. "So what's the prognosis?"
"You're relatively healthy Mister Potter." Madam Pomfrey said as she tucked her wand in her uniform pocket. "I suggest plenty of bed rest, some warm food, nothing heavy mind you, and I'll have Severus brew you a few potions." With that she bade her goodbyes and flood away.
"She's wrong." I say as I sipped my tea. "I'm not fine at all."
"Well that settles it." Ron slapped his hands on his knees before he stood with a stretch. "If you're dying you might as well have a full belly with some of Mum's stew."
"Oh Ronald." Hermione couldn't help but shake her head.
I can't help but feel something in me mend as I was greeted by a Weasley hug courtesy of Mrs. Weasley, my second mother, Molly. She gave me a kiss to my cheek and smoothed back my hair with such a look that I felt my lips tremble but I drop my head and cleared my throat aware that it's not me and her alone. "Hello Aunt Molly." I manage to say.
"Oh Harry." Again she kisses me on my brow, which I have to bend down for – I still can't get over the fact that I'm a bit taller than her. "I'll fix you a bowl of stew and we'll take it out onto the garden where you will tell me everything."
I remember a while ago where Ron was once jealous of me and his mothers budding relationship, it had taken him a while to understand I wasn't trying to steal his mother but just borrowing her for some of the most difficult moments of my life. It wasn't until I was stuck at Grimmuald place that we began to have chats. Talking to her was different than talking to either of my friends. She's lived through so much and dealt with seven children on top of it all.
Before I know it Arthur, or Uncle Arthur, pulls me into a warm hug, as he liked to be called. He wasn't much for words but he was never too scarce with a nice hug. "Long time." He says - two little words couldn't have made me feel any guiltier. A part of me knew that I must have caused some restless nights and more than a fair share of headaches but this guilt was the price you pay when you've been finally accepted into a family that more than cares.
It's strange. It took me a while but I can begin to heal… maybe a tiny bit but I no longer feel like it's the end of the world. Through my darkest times when suicide seemed a better option than living I thought of my 'family', all of them, even the ever-snippy Snape. "Yea, sorry 'bout that, I needed to be a lone for a while." I say pitifully.
The man merely gives me a look and a gentle shove to the kitchen. I have to repeat it in my head but everything will get better, it'll never be 100 percent again but with a little time it can come close – 99.9 percent close. "Oh Harry, be a dear and retrieve the blankets from the cupboard." I do as I'm told and before I know it aunt Molly and I are outside underneath the stars eating stew and talking…
"It's strange." I say, my back is hunched and I stare into my murky soup as if it held all my answers. "I wrote of something like this except it ended a bit different."
"Tell me Harry." Speaks Aunt Molly, her fingers are comforting as she cards them through my pigeons nest of hair. "Let it all out, I'm here for you."
Those words couldn't have been sweeter. My tongue moves and I share with her my fiction of a broken hearted man with no ambition to live and who commits suicide. The topic causes the woman to hold me tighter and I embrace her, this time I can't hold back what I forced myself to when around my two closest friends, I cry on her shoulder and allow someone else to hear my grief stricken words of abandonment. Draco, it was all Draco, in how I knew, simply knew that something funny was occurring but ignoring it, denying the truth, because I was afraid to loose a love I have not experienced. I cried out my insecurities and how I thought it was the 'forever' type of love that was as strong as my parents and them, her and Uncle Arthur; my eyes were red and my throat raw but that was alright, she kissed both my eyes, handed me a hanky and had me rest my head on her lap as she once again carded her fingers through my hair.
My gratefulness and love could know no bound, if I couldn't have Draco then maybe he wasn't the one, maybe what I felt for him was nothing but a schoolboy crush and she told me so. She told me that if he had loved me with the same fierceness I loved him he wouldn't have cheated so many times, he wouldn't have caused me pain and if he had ever made me hurt for any reason be it on purpose or mistake he would be on his hands and knees praying for forgiveness… and she was right, Draco wasn't 'the one', nor was he worthy of my love – I was utterly and completely in love with Aunt Molly, of course it was a maternal love which was perfectly fine with me.
Morning comes and I find myself in Percy's old room. Sitting up I rub the crust from my eyes and see on the chair a change of fresh clothes and necessary items for morning rituals. An hour later I'm sitting at the kitchen table where I enjoy a lively conversation with Ginny who's ecstatic over an internship with the daily prophet. Uncle Arthur sits in his seat and reads the paper while Aunt Molly bustles about packing a lunch for her husband.
"…And then Mr. Schmitt asked me to grab him a coffee! Do I look like a bleeding house elf, no, I'm the assistant to the chief executer and I told him, Harry listen to this, Harry?" Ginny frowns and I pay no attention, for some reason Aunt Molly places a plate of diced chicken near me, the smells has my good mood plummeting as my stomach recoils and I find myself on my feet and stumbling to the bathroom where I loose what breakfast I had managed to consume.
Stomach empty I lean my head against the cool surface of the toilet, I haven't the strength to reach over and flush the toilet but that task is done for me and before I could question who, a very familiar hand ran through my hair. "Come, off to bed with you Harry, whatever bug you've caught it'll be gone in a few hours of rest and a potion or two."
I shake my head. "Potions won't work." I say, lifting my head and smiling gratefully as a refreshing charm is placed in my mouth. "'Mione and Poppy say I'm fine but I feel like I'm dying."
Aunt Molly's brows scrunch together. "Nonsense."
I manage to shake my head with my splitting headache. "I've been for weeks."
"Come," she helps me to my feet. "Off to bed with you and we'll discuss this over some warm tea." Settled into the very comfortable bed I pull the covers up so it's tucked under my chin. Waiting patiently, I couldn't help but wonder if I truly was dying. There was always that thought in the back of my mind that grief was having me so ill but now it must be death, what else could it be?
"Here we are dear." Molly nudges the door open with her shoulder and closes it with her foot. I sit up as she places the tray on the desk beside the bed. "Now, what's with this dying nonsense?" She sits beside me and watches as I sip at a warm cup of tea to sooth my nausea which, surprisingly, works.
"It started on the island. It got worse with raw chicken I was ready to cook when the smell hit me and I threw up. It was so disgusting but I couldn't help myself. After that it was all downhill, it wasn't even the chicken anymore, I fell asleep beside the toilet for Merlin's sake because it got so bad. It couldn't have been what I ate, I mean everything's fresh and there's no one around to give me a cold or something."
She rubbed at his knee. "So it was just chicken?"
"So far, I mean I watched you make the sausage and I was hungry for them, not sick. Sometimes, my stomach feels crampy, not the loo crampy or the hungry crampy, but the 'Please-let-me-pass-out-ow-it's-killing-me' type of cramp." Shaking his head he set down the tea. "It's a nightmare." There was a distressed look on Molly's face, one that terrified Harry to no end. "Oh no… I'm really dying aren't I? God I knew it!" Flinging myself back on the mattress I wondered how long I had: weeks, days, months, hours?
"No Harry I don't think you're going to die but… let me just try a quick spell alright and we'll know for sure."
"Mme. Pomfrey and 'Mione already tried dozens of spells." I complained.
Molly smiled patiently. "I have a feeling they didn't bother to try this one, a very important spell I used a lot over the years. As a matter of fact, Mme Pomfrey taught me."
"I trust you Aunt Molly, I just hate feeling yucky." I pouted, the blankets were soon tossed to my feet and shirt scrunched up so my stomach was in plain view. "If it's a virus I'm blaming those blasted owls."
Molly smiled patiently, her wand tapping against my bellybutton several times before she said one simple word. "Revlon." The tip of her wand glowed white for a brief second before fading into a light dusky pink.
Not wanting to see, I stare up at the ceiling, enthralled by the scorch marks, and I broke out of my wonderment by a gasp. "What?"
Molly opened her mouth then closed it. Sitting back in her chair she sighed, this was going to be one very long day.
I consider myself a very open minded individual, after all these years I've taken everything in stride, there had been the oversized snake that tried to kill me, the giant spiders that tried to kill me, a smelly giant with a club trying to kill me, a disembodied spirit trying to kill me, and an embarrassing cherub that tried to smother me with kisses one valentines – one of my most horrifying moments.
I learned many things, like fish could definitely fly, I'm allergic to powder blubber puss, the fact that there was powder blubber puss confuses me to this day, and that in no uncertain terms was I destined for children of my own. It was a hard blow to find out after waking from my coma that the curses flung at me left me sterile – how that was possible I'm unsure but I've come to terms with it, really, I have.
To make it absolutely clear, this is not a letter to ask for you back, as far as I'm concerned you can offer yourself to the giant squid and I'll throw the biggest farewell party in the history of history. I want to make it double clear I expect nothing from you, I want nothing from you or anything to do with you but I've been told I must, by law, inform you. It's your choice, I truly could care less.
I'm unsure how it happened but it has. I've also spoke with my personal attorney's and my child will remain with me, there's no way around it, I have full custody by Paternity Law C47 section 37-123. But by law I have to allow you visitation rights.
With that being said, I expect nothing from you, by writing this I sign in blood and oath. As a matter of fact I hope you receive this letter under immense pain, hopefully castration, but in the very least I expect this letter to be tossed in the fire and never read.
With not an ounce of love or affection,
Harry James Potter
Heir to the Potter and Black name.
It was Ron's hug that comforted me the most, Hermione sat in her seat with a sniffle and a smile. His hugs weren't often but they were bone breaking and warm. I couldn't help myself so I hugged him back, two brothers sharing a moment, a moment that won't be mentioned ever but it was nice to look back on, silently of course. "I'll kill him." Mumbled Ron.
"And I'll be your alibi." I answer, more than grateful.
"I know a perfectly strong incendio charm; we'll just sweep him under the carpet." Said Hermione.
It was as I hugged my best girl friend, my sister, that I came to the conclusion that all three of us, the trio, were capable of doing just as we spoke, who would imprison the very people who 'saved' the Wizarding world a number of times?
As a rule, the Weasley household had nights marked off as specific dinner nights. Wednesday and Sunday had always been chicken night, it didn't matter what it was or how it was cooked; chicken had become a staple for those night so it was with great confusion that the occasional red head get together Sunday dinner had a pot roast.
The table had mixed plates of food, the vegetable, a meat dish which was normally beef stew or stuffed bread but the main dish had always been chicken – the table had gone deathly quiet. There was a time for change and then there was a time for tradition, Sunday dinner without chicken wasn't part of the tradition… "Who died?"
"Ginny." Arthur scolded.
Harry shifted in his seat, hands fidgeting with a roll of half torn bread. "No one died Gin." Responded Ron; forking a portion onto his plate. "Eat up."
"Seriously." Persisted Ginny. "Where's the chicken?"
Harry forked up a piece of the roast and spoke, "Thrown away."
Harry passed the corn. "Because it makes me sick."
"Are you alright?" Questioned the closest twin who happened to be George.
"I'm fine." Harry winked at a smiling Hermione. "I'm just pregnant."
Harry rubbed at his face, "Hey George."
"What are you doing out here? It's three in the morning." Removing his jacket, George put it over the shorter Gryffindor, hands rubbing at bare arms.
"Couldn't sleep," Harry sniffed as he scuffed his worn sneaker on the bank of the pond. "Ron snores."
"So you decided to freeze out here instead, how about I make you a cup of tea and we can talk."
Truthfully, Harry was tired of talking, he talked enough for one night but he liked the twins and he was willing to put up with them for now. "Chocolate."
"Fine, warm coco then."
"Olives, do we still have olives?" Harry questioned, more to himself, completely missing the strange look that had been tossed at him. "Ooh, a ham, cheese, olive, and pickle sandwich."
"And so it begins. Let's go Harry; if your cravings are anything like mothers then we have some serious stocking to do."
It had been a full eight days and I can't believe how changed my life has become. For starters, Aunt Molly has decided I was to move in with her which I accepted with a sigh of relief, I'm afraid to be alone. So I've permanently moved into Percy's room and have become the second 'house wife' of the house as Ginny had labeled me. My old apartment sold quickly, furniture given away, the twins have visited daily and I them but I'm mostly afraid – afraid because no reply had been given to my letter. A part of me is grateful but another part is anxious because I just know that he wouldn't let this go – this is my baby, I'll be damned if he would try to ruin this for me.
Saturday was a bright day, the sun was out and the air was still but there was something that had me glancing out the windows and putting down my books and waiting, waiting for what I don't know. By mid afternoon I glance at the clock, the twins were supposed to be here by now, I'm dressed in loose fitting robes and ready for a day of shopping – Aunt Molly has forbidden me to leave anywhere without an escort, which I can understand, the first and second tri-mester of Male Pregnancies are always risky.
Puzzled, I make my way to the door, the twins always come by floo. "Who is it?" I ask.
"Potter, open up, we need to talk."
My heart sinks, so he hadn't been munched on by the giant squid. With a deep breath I smooth my clothes and run a hand through my hair, I know I look fine, dashing even, but I haven't seen the bastard in a long while and I hoped to make him a bit jealous but I knew today wasn't it, my day would come, I'm sure of it. With a silent prayer I open the door only to be practically shoved aside as the irate blond stepped in. "Malfoy, do come in." I say sarcastically, the touch, no shove, had my heart beating a mile a minute.
"I'll get to the point, you'll get rid of… it." His eyes traveled to my stomach and I can't help but place a hand over my unborn child. "I made an appointment; you're to accompany me within the hour."
A laugh escapes me; it isn't one of humor but one filled with disbelief. "No, have you lost your mind Malfoy, you know damn well I won't rid myself of a child, even yours. As I said in the note I want nothing to do with you but I can't stop you having to do something with my child."
Draco sneered; it looked ugly on his once beautiful face. "I want nothing to do with that."
"Fine! I don't need you Malfoy, I might have once thought I did but it was clear that I deserved better… much better." I looked him up and down, as usual his attire was neat and probably be commented on in the gossip pages but I couldn't have cared less, gone were the days which I mourned our love now I was left a cautious shell of love once known – some may even call me bitter, but I show none of my hurt though it bubbles at the surface – how could this person that I once dreamt of calling husband would be so callous to want to end the life of something so innocent? A life that I like to think was created in love but I have a feeling it was created by my love and his libido.
"Trust me Potter, I'm the best you'll ever receive, no one else would touch used goods and you were good – for a time." He cocks a brow and licks his lips.
I want to snarl and scratch his eyes out. "I guess your ego does have to make up for your shortcomings." I make my way to the kitchen, I need to keep myself busy and so I decide to make tea. "I guess I should thank you Malfoy, your deceit has opened several avenues for me. I wrote several wonderful pieces my editors couldn't wait to publish; the galleons should be rolling in soon."
His hands clench the back of a chair. "Are you ridding yourself of that thing? I'll even pay for it."
I pour a steaming cup of water in my favorite cup, it was chipped in one spot but Molly had said that was her cup through all her pregnancies. "Of course not, you of all people should know what this means to me. Finding out you're sterile isn't fun, so to find myself able to at least carry a child is more than I can hope for."
"You have no house elf, no wet nurse; you don't know the first thing about raising children. Just rid yourself of the headache and maybe I would allow you to be one of my favored lovers." He says this with a look of promise – I want to curse that look but I hold firm of my emotions and rest against the sink as I sip my unsweetened tea.
"Look around you Malfoy, I'm living with a woman who raised seven children, I have all the help I need and the love. Besides, why would I bed you, it's obvious you can't satisfy me without a potion." An angry blush blooms on his cheeks, I'm satisfied with it but I feel like a child throwing insults, I'm bigger than this. "I'm sorry Malfoy, that was a cheap shot, forgive me." We all have consequences of war.
He glares at me as I calmly watch him. "I want nothing to do with you or it."
"That it is an embryo Malfoy and like I said I'm fine with that. I have my inheritance and my writing to keep me from the streets; you're free to visit anytime as long as you're aware it's scheduled." I say, I can't deny a child a parent even if said parent would practically be none existent.
"You don't get it Potter, I want nothing to do with it, save yourself the misery and end it before I disown it." He seems agitated but should I care?
"Then do so, send a letter to my attorney and I'll be sure to tell my child nothing of you and the Malfoy name." It was simple.
"You're really clueless aren't you?" A puzzled look appears on his face before it's swept away. "Disownment of an unborn child is dangerous."
My grip on the cup tightens. "Are you threatening me?"
"No, warning you. I don't want to hurt you Harry but I will; I refuse to have a Bastard over my head."
I want to cry. "Why Draco? Was I not good enough?" the words pass my lips before I can stop them; I wish to take them back.
"Because it wasn't worth it." He says, eyes unblinking and staring directly into mine. "The solicitors wanted a decision, stay with you and loose all that belonged to the Malfoy's or rid myself of you and marry a respectable Pureblood and conceive an heir to keep everything."
"I had money." I say. "So you broke our engagement for a vault and a stupid manor which you yourself said you hated."
"Three Vaults, the manor, several houses, and my father's former seat." The answer stuns me… for this he left me when I would have gladly…
"I hope your money keeps you happy at night Malfoy because I swear on my magic and wand no one would dare love you like I did. I hope you remember this because I assure you someone who claims to is only after one thing and it's not for your heart or cock." Swallowing the rest of my tea I turn and rinse out the cup. "Tell me, what does this disownment entails?"
"It would loose a half of itself, if you don't rid yourself of it now you'll surely bare a squib, half a soul." He pauses," Think of the shame."
"I have… It's a shame it took this for me to realize what a heartless bastard you really are." I stare out the window above the sink, I stare at nothing particular but I can see his reflection off the glass, him and something else. "I won't go with you; I can't kill what could be my last chance for happiness."
"Then you leave me no choice." I watch as he pulls out his wand. "One more chance Harry." It's said softly, lovingly.
A part of my heart swells in recognition but another part of me breaks and it's that broken part of my very self that I allow my eyes to shine and drop my head. "I can't."
If I were to look up or turn around I would see Malfoy raise his wand and point it at me, I would see two identical red heads move from behind the wall to watch with dread etched on their freckled faces. "I, Draco Lucian Malfoy, hereby remove myself as parentage from the child within Harry James Potter. By my magic and wand I swear it, so mote it be." The tip of his wand glows before turning an angry red, blue, and then finally black before disappearing with a tendril of smoke.
I wait for it, I expect a seizure of sorts, pain like the Cruciatus Curse, but a long second passes as my former lover and fiancé denies our child and a part of me hopes that he's said the words wrong or at the very least crossed his fingers. That thought is quickly tossed aside as a cramp starts at my side before moving along my abdomen, it starts of gradually before I gasp and clutch at the sink before my legs buckle and I find myself on the floor, close to sobbing. I want to pass out, it feels as if my stomach was concaving but that couldn't be right, fear coils amongst the pain and I grip my teeth, a sound passing my lips I've never heard before, as a thought of miscarriage plants itself firmly against the forefront of my mind.
I am told later, much later, that Fred and George had shoved Malfoy aside as they reached my side, they were afraid to leave my side as I collapsed in one of their arms. I am told that Malfoy left before help could be reached by the form of an emergency portkey that had carried the three of us to the office of the man I considered more than a simple uncle – Arthur Weasley.
"I'll kill him." Hermione snarled as she paced, her hair growing fizzier as her magic crackled around her.
"Not if I get to him first." Mutters Ron as he sits almost calmly on one of the many seats in the waiting room, though on the outside he looked the most 'reasonable' of the bunch, those that knew him knew that he was just at the breaking point – the calm before the storm some say.
Not much else is said, the groups agitation was contagious, the nurses who came in and out with updates or offering of refreshment feeling not so – helpful, almost snarling for the next half hour at such an injustice. There was an occasional sniff from Molly Weasley as she remained sequestered in her corner, knitting what the others chose to not acknowledge considering the circumstances – there was chance the milky white strands of cotton could very well be scrap, a distant memory of what could have been. Arthur rubbed at his face, tiredness clear on his worried face but he remained dutiful and asked for any progress every few minutes much to the nurses' exasperation but understanding.
"How is he?" questioned an unfamiliar voice. Well known public faces looked up, momentarily confused before Ron brought it upon himself to speak.
"And you are?"
"Please forgive me; I'm Goodthrow, Andrew Goodthrow, Mr. Potter's solicitor." The large man who wore expensive but plain robes and carried a muggle suitcase introduced himself.
Arthur frowned, standing he wasn't so pleased to find the man here; this wasn't the time nor the place. "I'm sorry but I doubt you're much appreciated at the moment. Harry will be fine, I'm sure of it."
A sad smile appeared on the man's face. "You must be Mr. Weasley, surrogate father to my client? Mr. Potter has spoken very highly of you and the rest of your clan." He hesitated but a moment, brown eyes taking in who he was confronted with. "Harry, Mr. Potter, asked me quite a while ago to come here if this sort of scenario was to occur, though I doubt the possible miscarriage of his first child was what we had in mind."
Molly scowled, her needles clinking and clanking furiously. "The baby will be fine, I know this." After a moment she added, "Mother's intuition."
"And I can only hope you are correct but nonetheless I'm to remain here until word has…"
"Am I interrupting anything?" All heads turned to the petite looking woman standing at the doorway. Her robes were a mixture of a powdery blue and neon pink – she was the head Medi-Witch of that floor.
"No, how is he?" As the head of the family, Arthur was obliged to speak.
The Medi-Witch sighed, a slight smile to her lips. "Mr. Potter is in stable condition, it was touch and go for a while but he's faring well."
"And the child?" Molly questioned from where she sat, everyone practically holding their breadth.
"The child… I'm sorry but…" her words were caught off by a sob from the older woman, "Oh dear." Rushing forward, the Medi-Witch knelt by Molly's side. "No need to fret, the children are fine."
Molly looked up from where she used the babies cap to dab at her eyes. "Children?"
"Why yes," the Medi-Witch smiled. "Mr. Potter is carrying multiples."
My stomach, it isn't flat as I had feared it was to be. Waking was unpleasant, I was disoriented yes but I refused to open my eyes until I was able to face the fact that I might have lost my child... relief swept over me as a swell of stretched skin meets my hand and I cry – sob really. By the time someone visits, my pillow is soaked through with tears and stained with snot. Embarrassment was the least of my problems and a new pillow was quickly conjured while the ruined one banished by a strangely robed woman. "Mr. Potter, I'm Amelia, your Primary for the time being."
"Hi." I manage to say, "My baby?"
She smiled, it was a pretty smile. "Your children are fine; you're quite lucky Mr. Potter."
It takes me a moment… "Children?"
Her smile becomes toothy, "You're carrying twins, congratulations."
My eyes couldn't have possibly widened any more, before I had a chance to speak the door opened and I was being smothered by a familiar scent – Aunt Molly. Everything was going to be alright… it just had to be.
I was officially at my fourth month mark of my pregnancy… and I was excited! In the beginning it was fine to laze about and practically do nothing but I've grown bored with the nostalgic life, not that it hasn't been interesting spending my days with Aunt Molly but the house was quickly becoming – a prison of sorts which I refuse for it to be considered. One morning I picked up the profit and glanced at the classifieds much to the disapproval of the Weasley Matriarch. "Harry, are you sure?" there was concern there and I appreciated it, I appreciated a lot of it but it was time for me to stand on my own two feet at least while I was able to see my feet.
"I need to do something… it's been great staying with you but I can't stay here all day, honestly being a house wife isn't for me." I smile and she returns the smile with a shake of her head, her wooden spoon gestured in the air.
"Nothing too strenuous," she gives me a pointed look. "I refuse to have you dead on your feet when you return home."
As of late I've grown extremely emotional, at odd times I can simply be staring at a pot of simmering tea and break into tears much to my embarrassment. At one point Uncle Arthur had forgotten his pocket watch at work and I was in a right state of mood, cursing the watch for daring to try to sneak away. Thankfully it was only Aunt Molly and the two of us so my momentary insanity due to a pocket watch was never mentioned – though I wonder at times. Swiping at my eyes, the mere mention of having a home has me a bit teary eyed, "I'll be sure to get a very lazy job, it shouldn't be too hard."
Oh boy, I wish I never had said that!
A week had come and gone and I have been to a dozen interviews with sit down jobs… and nothing. They were extremely flattered and delirious with the privilege to be considered by the Savior the Boy-Who-Lived but alas; because of my problem they wouldn't be able to hire me. After all, no respecting person (me) 'Of Child' would work. It was a good thing Hermione accompanied me; she had the good sense to snatch my wand out of my hand before I could curse anyone. "Come on, we'll stop off at the twins." Hermione said as she tugged my arm through the crowd of Diagon Alley where I was swearing and grumbling about the audacity of some people, the nerve of them all! Of course Hermione was dragging me along because of a smile on her delightful face that I pretended to not see – I at least decided to be nice and not snap at her.
Before I knew it I was sitting with the twins who were each very sympathetic and was helping me come up with very unpleasant 'accidents' for those sods. My Butterbeer had been replaced twice before I found myself leaning on one of the twins shoulder, refusing to cry but my eyes were red. "It's not fair." I grumble. "I even told him I didn't even need to be paid, I just want to work." The twins glance at one another. "How difficult can it be to file papers?"
"Do you have a resume?" questioned George who was toying with the cap of one of the butterbeer's.
Sniffing, I nod my head. Reaching into one of my pockets I un-crumple the several sheets and smooth them over on the table. George took them and I returned my head back to Fred's shoulder, enjoying the way his fingers carded through my hair, it was quite long since it had been a while I had even though of getting a trim.
"Wow…" George seemed impressed. "Two and a half pages of references, that has to be a new record."
I smiled, "Nah, I figured killing Voldemort and writing gay erotica would be enough until Hermione said I needed more than a paragraph."
"You are the Boy-Who-Lived…" Started Fred.
"The Savior…" Added George.
"The Sex addict…"
"I am not a sex addict, in fact I haven't had sex in like… since I left Malfoy!" In fact, it's been a while I've seen the little bastard, not that I'm hoping for a reunion.
Another shared glance between the twins, Fred broke the moment of silence as George gave him a slight nod of the head. "Its official then, you've officially been officialized."
Was that a word? "Huh?"
"We've been looking for someone to help with the storefront…" Fred started.
"We were going to ask you…"
"But mom said you were on the search…"
"For something decent…"
"And since you are a partner…"
"And you're willing to work for free…"
"We can do a bit with your face…"
"Our very own Boy-Who-Lived…"
"Pregers and all." Fred finished.
That was just the beginning of my confused state. It wasn't that I didn't care for the twins, or even loved them, but their little twin language left me with a slight headache and always wondering how the heck they managed to say what they said with such – flare.
It wasn't so bad, ringing up customers, stocking the shelves, promoting items, and giving away samples. It was quite… normal. Sometimes I forgot all about my worries as rearranged the merchandise to my specifications, of course I used mostly magic as I had been forbidden by everyone in the family to 'strain' myself, even the damn twins had at first hovered for the first several hours of my first day before I threatened them with an unforgiveable.
Pretty soon I had the store the way I liked it, there were new signs, a splash of paint here and there, the store front was tidied up and samples were set out for those brave enough – it was gratifying and fun. I made a point to dress comfortably, my version of comfort were slacks and an un-tuck shirt, because of my pregnancy I did have a slight bulge, nothing too noticeable considering this was more a magical pregnancy than a natural one, though all male pregnancy were magical. At my fifth month I've gained twelve pounds, allowed my hair to grow long enough to tie back with a ribbon, I looked quite fetching, Aunt Molly swears it's because I 'glow', whatever that means, and I'm happy, just not today, not at this moment, not with this man – yet again.
"Are you sure?"
I sigh; this guy could not take a hint. It wasn't that I don't appreciate being fawned over, I adored it, at a distance. It was a compliment I wanted, being pregnant has made me a not so shy sort of guy and I need to know that I can still be considered 'desirable' before I explode with the arrival of my children. "Quite," I smile, "Take your time, the twins have a shelf of new stuff on the other side of the shop." Pointing to the farthest distance, thankfully against a wall behind a couple of shelves, I'm glad that I decided to place them there.
The man smirks, he reminded me of my ex, in a not so good way. "That's alright; I'm perfectly content standing here. Tell me, what do those do?" he points to a random object, an object I'm more than sure I've explained before.
"No. You're going to have to leave."
Startled, the man leans into the counter, forcing me to lean back. "Why?"
"I enjoy the truth." He says.
"Alright, you're annoying. When I look at you I'm reminded of my ex and those little looks you give me make me uncomfortable. Now I don't come to work to be made uncomfortable, annoyed, and upset. If you don't back off I'm afraid I'm going to be forced to take extreme measures with you."
The man seems more interested than afraid – damn it. "Extreme measures? Sounds kinky."
"Trust me, there's nothing kinky with your balls finding their way lodge in your throat, suffocating you."
There's a moment of silence and he bursts out into laughter, I'm really itching to hex this bastard but unfortunately I left my wand next to my mug of tea in the small room – like an idiot. "I knew I liked you. Come on, I know you would simply love to accompany me to dinner? Perhaps," he gives me a look which I am to assume is to be a leer – it's not. "A drink back at my place?"
"No. I don't date customers."
"But I haven't bought anything."
I really want to hex this idiot. "Either you leave now or I'll haul your ass out of here."
"I don't see anyone here, it's just me and you, your red headed friends left."
I'm stunned, he was right. I was momentarily alone. "Get out!"
"You know you want me, I can make you feel good."
I glare, "You're a cocky son-of-a-bitch aren't you?" My eyes remain on his, finally, I had help, "I said go."
His smile becomes tight and I have a bad feeling. "No one says no to me."
"Look!" his hand slams on the table, "I know you want me, I want you, just accept it and I'll pick you up for dinner!"
"No! I don't date."
"Fine, we'll just fuck."
Heat flushes my skin, "I don't fuck, not to the likes of you!"
With a growl he launches himself over the counter, before I can defend myself the man is quickly stunned. The man is resting oddly on the counter and I can feel the fear eat at me, here I was, the BWL, and I can't defend myself against a stupid wizard! "Harry?"
My eyes lift to meet those of my old friend; a wobbly smile tilts my lips. "Severus."
"Go to the back room, I'll take care of this sorry excuse of a wizard." With a nod I leave, my fingers curled into a fist. Sitting at my seat, my cup of tea warm to the touch I find myself up again and rushing to the loo where I quickly empty my stomach. I'm weak, I feel weak, I can't help but cry, and cry.
Of the two, it's George who was the calmest, while they may be twins, they did have quirks that the other didn't. Fred remained quiet, his arms crossed and his gaze locked to the busy street bellow of Diagon Alley. Severus neatly poured a bit of milk into his tea that had been placed on the low table of the living room. "The sedative should wake him by mid afternoon tomorrow; he'll feel groggy and hungry."
"I still don't understand. Why didn't he mention anything to us?" spoke George, his body sprawled back in his seat, chewing on his thumbnail.
"What do you expect, that boy's an idiot." Severus said softly, "He confided in me about the man but thought nothing of him. I must admit I thought it was another groupie, I'm glad I arrived when I did."
From the window, Fred spoke. "I'll kill him, who would try to attack someone with child?"
"Fred, Kingsley and Tonks took him; you know how loyal they are to the boy. She might not seem it but Mrs. Lupin can be a vengeful person and Kingsley has a colorful background."
"You saw his intent in that bastards eyes…" trailing off he watched as his brother stormed from the room, no doubt to lie beside Harry who rested in one of the guest rooms.
For a moment the two men left in the room remained quiet. Severus stared into the murky liquid of his half filled cup, "If you love him, it's best you go for it, the longer you wait the more entrenched he'll be of his thoughts."
George spared him a look, "What are his thoughts on love?" not denying that he did indeed hold feelings for the younger man, the same also went for his twin.
"After the disaster with my godson there's no doubt he's harden his heart. He trusted in love once and with that trust shattered what hope could there be for another?"
"It was Fred you know, he saw Harry for Harry, not that BWL crap." Pause. "He tried to explain to me why he was so infatuated with him; it wasn't until the last days of the war that I understood. I saw him, the way he battled, the courage and power. Merlin Severus, what am I going to do?"
For a while longer they talked, soon the hearth flared in stormed a concern Molly followed by Arthur. The night was long and stressful, Harry asleep unaware that something had shifted as he slept. Maybe he would finally find love as George and Fred held him while he slept, unaware of the soft conversation the twins held about him, their hands stroking the warm flash of his slight bump where his children slept, sucking in the warmth freely given to them greedily.
It was odd… I have never considered any romantic notions to either of the twins but now I find myself oddly attached to them. Maybe it was because since the incident weeks back that now they spent more time with me. They have always been generous with their time but now they insisted we all do things together, stuff and such. At first I was admittedly annoyed but then as the days slowly passed to weeks I begun to expect their visits. One morning as I stirred my tea and munched on a dry cracker – morning sickness was just not for the mornings I learned – I contemplated. It had been a while since I sat down and done such hard thinking, I enjoy the nostalgia of being a bit flighty and not worry about much but today was a day where I had the biggest revelation.
I was… dear Merlin can I admit it? I was beginning to like the terrible duo. My cracker fell into the tea and I swore. "You've got to be kidding!" but there it was. My eyes finally opened I couldn't hide the fact that I felt a strong none brotherly affection for both twins.
"Is everything alright dear?" Molly questioned as she strode down the steps leading to the kitchen.
"Not really." I admit.
Her steps pause and with purpose she strode to the stove and poured herself some of the simmering tea in a spare cup that always rested by the deep sink. "Care to talk about it?"
I watch as she settles herself beside me, spooning some sugar and stirring, she had a patient sort of air to her. I knew, just knew, she would get a kick out of my misery, because I am miserable. I can't afford to open my heart – not again. I needed to stick to my wand and uphold my promise to never be bothered by men, they were always out to get you, except for a few but they weren't men they were friends and as such were placed in a different category amongst the rest of the world's population. I was not going to dwell on it; I was going to burry any sort of affection and ignore it… "I might have fallen for your annoying prat's of sons." Blinking, I was weak; I couldn't hold it, not with the calmness of Aunt Molly.
There was silence before a hand flew to her lips that had started to twitch. "I'm – I'm sorry."
"Go ahead, laugh it up." Leaning back in my seat, I can't help but rub at my belly, my stomach was not flat but it had that slight swell that I enjoyed, male pregnancies were really weird.
"If you hurt him I'll kill you." As the dutiful fiancé, Ron took the necessary steps back. He might have been a Gryffindor he was smart enough to know when to tuck his tail between his legs and keep ready, especially when Hermione was in a mood.
Fred spared a glance to his brother, "I assure you Hermione, Harry's safe with us."
Her eyes narrowed, "Malfoy said the same thing." Both twins sported such a look of loathing that it was just enough for Hermione to back off – a little. "Look, he's very delicate right now."
Ron snorted, "Yea right."
"He's pregnant Ron."
"He's still the most powerful wizard this generation. You were there yesterday." Hermione gave him a look, wincing, he forgot that it was supposed to be a secret. "Sorry."
"What happened yesterday?" Fred questioned.
Hermione sighed. "We took Harry to dinner yesterday to show him my ring."
Rolling his eyes, "Long story short we left and some guy tried to rob us and Harry was upset that someone would dare to steel 'Mione's engagement ring, so Harry blasted him in a fit."
"What do you mean a fit?"
"George, Harry's in a… delicate state right now." Treading carefully, "His magic is going a bit crazy what with the hormones and well, Harry is starting to loose a bit of his control."
"He's leaking." Hermione spared him a glance. "What! It's true."
"Ron, you know if Harry…"
"Well Harry isn't here so I'll say it." Drawing himself up he spoke, "He's batty, he can cry at a drop of a hat and strip your arse a new one, but he's still as crazy as any loon."
Ringing my hands, nip at my thumb nail, pinky nail, and before I know it I'm rushing to the kitchen sink where I could scrub at my tongue, behind me Aunt Molly clucks her tongue and tucks her wand in her apron, "Such a disgusting habit Harry, really." She says. Before I could grumble out a reply there's a whoosh of flames from the hearth but I care little as I use the bit of soap to wash at my mouth and to wash my hands, particularly my finger tips that now taste like something awful. "George, Fred, how are you my dears?"
"What's happened now?" one of them says.
Soon there are hands rubbing at my arms and I'm being pulled away from the sink and my tongue taken by a twin, a wands tip gently taps my held appendage and the foul taste is removed and my hands wiped as the stray suds are removed. "There now," Fred gives one of his lopsided smiles and I find myself blushing, I can't help but stare up into his blue eyes and I find myself falling… falling ever deeper.
Fred stumbles back as I push past him, stumbling my way to my room. I run up the stairs, my hand resting against my stomach, there's a slight flutter and I push past my door and slam it shut, just before I can turn the little nub of the lock I'm forced back by a set of worried and upset twins. I am not happy. "Get out." Backing away, I point accusingly at them, this was their fault.
"No!" I fumble with my wand and point it at them; a moment later I switch hands and again re point my wand but this time in the right direction. "Get out."
"Put the wand down." George held out his hand, cautious.
"This is all your fault!" the tip of my wand begins to glow, a part of me is horrified but another part, the dominant, is simply content as I swish my wand to Fred who took a step forward. "How dare you."
The twin's glance at one another, "Harry," Fred starts. "Whatever we did we're sorry, we'll not do it again."
I feel my lower lip tremble, Merlin not now, and I blink rapidly. "See what you do to me?" wiping angrily at my eyes I just want to hex them stupid. "Why do you have to be so bloody understanding? Why can't you be like every other damn guy out there, insensitive pricks?"
"Please Harry, put the wand down." George's smile is gentle, it warms my stomach and for a moment I'm confused and I feel my eyes drip, streaking my pale cheeks.
"You don't understand," swallowing the lump that lodged in my throat, I continue gallantly. "After Draco that was it, I wasn't supposed to get involved but you – you two just have to ruin it don't you?" they share another glance but I'm on a roll, my arms gesturing wildly as I begin to pace. "Coming here and be all accepting and perfectly nice. Well that ends here! From now on you will stay away and if you come near me you'll be un-gentlemanly, I can't have you prancing around buying me sweets and being nice like." "Harry…" George quickly backed up as I stormed close to him; eyes swimming with tears yet unshed and eyes accusing. "Do you have any idea what you've done?" they were silent. "My children were supposed to be the loves of my life but no you had to go and somehow worm yourselves into someplace I tried hard to close off. But no! Instead I find myself fantasizing and pondering and it hurts me, it kills me because it can't happen, it won't happen I refuse to be tossed aside again."
Quickly George moves, his hands grasps my cheeks and before I can protest his lips are on mine – it was simple but oh so good. Behind me I feel Fred press himself against me, I'm trapped between two men who could hurt me more than I was willing to bare, not a physical sort of pain but one that would scar and fester. "We love you Harry." He murmurs against my lips before he's kissing me again, tongue swiping at the seem of my lips, hesitantly I part them, and as he kisses me, tongue swiping over mine I find myself crying – I was lost, I couldn't… I just couldn't…pulling away I find that I have no where to go, Fred's arms tighten around me and I turn my head away, lips tingling. "Please Harry." His hand brushes a few strand of hair behind my ear, a separate but familiar pair of lips brush against the juncture of my neck and shoulder, exposed skin from the collar of my muggle shirt.
"I can't… not again." It was hopeless, I knew I had fallen and had fallen hard but maybe I could spare myself some pain… maybe it was time I moved.
"George, spell the door." Free from his presence I attempt to move away but Fred tightens his hold, forcing me against him and I'm weak to fight him, his very presence was enough to zap my strength and I can only watch as George tap the wooden door and return to me, this time keeping some distance between us. "We're not him Harry." Fred says, his warm breadth caressing my exposed ear.
I know, I know they weren't him but they could hurt him, he couldn't allow that to happen… not again… never again. I shake my head, pointedly staring at the wall to my left. "Doesn't matter does it?"
"It does." Reaching out, George brushed his knuckles
I swallow the sorrow I can feel build up and wanting to release, straightening myself I manage to look him in the eye. "Nothing lasts forever, you'll get tired and find some reason to…" I was cut off as Fred somehow wormed his hand along my warm stretch of skin of my stomach, there was a pulse or recognition and I gasp, eyes fluttering at the feel of it.
"We've loved you for a while," admitted George, "Never did anything because of that prat but when he threw you away we knew we had to have you."
My mind went to mush, the hand was soft and warm, my skin tingled with every stroke and it felt so good, not arousal good, but another type of good, almost a sated feeling. "Please…"
"It's true, we love you and your children." A part of me heard what they said and wanted to speak but another part was soaking the warmth of that one hand, almost like a need. "We want you in our lives, George is already thinking about expanding the apartment."
"Fred, that's a discussion for later. Feels good Harry?"
"Yes." Relaxing into Fred I moan softly as another set of hands push at the fabric of my shirt and join a similar hand. "Please…"
"Please what?" George murmurs, his eyes gazing along my face and down my exposed neck.
"More… I… I need more." Breadth coming out in gasps I moan again as lips meet mine and I'm lost in storm of caresses, strokes, and whispered promises I wanted so hard to believe. I'm in a daze of lust and anticipation, I don't protest as I'm placed on my bed that seems bigger than it was that very morning but my mind is turned to more important things as clothes are stripped and skin touches skin. It had been a while since I felt the intimate touch of another man let a lone two men.
I hissed as my cock was sucked, groaned as fingers penetrated my backside and stretched me as I sucked on a cock that was simply just right. My neck was rubbed as a bulbous head stretched me far more than any fingers could and I shuddered as inch by excruciating inch was pushed in, brushing against that nub of nerves that had me gasping for breadth and begging for more before my mouth was stuffed again and gave me something to do as I took more in and a moment of stillness before I was taken completely and utterly. The night was a wonderful haze of adoration and orgasms – it was perfect.
"It's almost too good to be true you know." I sit there and sip at my tea. "I don't… Hermione help." Hermione bit her lower lip and turned her face away. "This isn't funny!"
"Fine." Clearing her throat, she smoothed out her skirt. "Alright, Harry you need to listen to me, are you going to listen to me?" with a nod of my head she continues, I always listen and more than agree sometimes. "I know what happened between you and Malfoy wasn't of the good but you have to move on."
"I have." I said – it was a good thing to.
She smiles fondly. "No, not completely." I still, I've lost what little breadth I had and I could feel my eyes begin to water, Merlin I hate hormones. "You gave up on love and Harry you can't do that." She reaches over and takes my trembling hand and I lower my head, staring at our hands, the pale pink nail polish and the smoothed and unblemished ones that belong to me. "Look, the twins are genuinely in love with you, have been for a while, everyone knew we just didn't say anything because you were with Malfoy and then the whole depression and… well they'll make you happy we hope."
"I'm scared." I admit.
"Of course you are, hell I'm scared about Ron but I have to believe that he'll return to my arms every night for the rest of our lives or I'll hex him good."
A small laugh escapes me and I wipe at my eyes. "I don't want to be hurt again."
"Life is filled with hurt, but you can't run away with it. If they haven't backed down now I doubt they'll do it." Confused, it must have shown on my face because she continued, "The twins were a bit miffed when we all sort of ganged up on them. Molly was scary, never knew that woman could be so heartless. No matter how harsh we were with them they stuck to their guns and went after you. Even Remus pulled them aside, I don't think they've been more afraid than with him."
"Of course, we love you, you prat and heaven forbid if anyone so much as tries to lay a hand on you let a lone break your heart again. Give them a chance, open yourself up, you might be surprised."
The late afternoon ended with a long hard hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Love you Herm."
"Love you too Harry."
And so it happened, I let myself open little by little. I allowed myself to love and feel for the first time in a while. It was a rainy night, my fifth night in a row to stay over night with the twins. I had found a new use for my ever-expanding belly; it was just perfect to rest a platter of Aunt Molly's ever-famous chocolate chip cookies. The night wasn't too late but the day had been long and tiresome, above me was a children's book filled with tails and with a bit of magic it hovered above and pages turned with a will of its own, on both sides the twins nibbled on cookies, chatted, and like every possible second of the day rubbed at my stomach that seemed to suddenly bloom the last few weeks, I was a month away from my last month and feeling a lot better if awkward. My clothes had to be replaced with maternity robes and a few muggle pants that I charmed to be less girly looking, I refused to walk anywhere with a butterfly motif, I might have been a poof but I was damn sure not a girl.
The page above me turned and my tale ended; it was a happy ending like always and I felt a flutter in my stomach, my children enjoyed it, it seems. The next story was called Linguish and his Babe. As the minutes ticked by my brow scrunched in confusion. My mouth opened once, twice, and finally I decided to close it, and ask the questions later when I was through with the delightful story of a young gentleman prince who fell in love (by potion) with an evil Lord but broke away from the man by disowning the evil Lord. Of course this caused immense pain but the prince had a savior, it seemed one of his personal guards was madly in love with him and made the prince happy, fought off the evil lord and asked for the princes hand in marriage taking in the unborn babe but the strange part of the whole story was the constant emphasis of the guards willingness to love so much his prince that he accepted responsibility for the child that was born of his seed. It was strange to read how the guard was found with
his hands stroking and touching at the princes belly, allowing the babe a chance to absorb the other mans very magic and become the man's child, heir, if not by blood but by magic which was just as strong.
As the story ended, happily ever after with the child no longer with the threat of being a squib, seeing as the love and touch of the guard gifting him with a second father by magic… "Fred? George?" the twins were on the edge of sleep, their bodies pressed against me, their touch a comfort, answered with hums. "Have you ever read Linguish and his Babe?"
"Of course…" murmured George.
"Everyone has." Fred finished, somehow pressing even closer, a content sigh passing his lips.
I was comfortable, content even, but I wanted answers but I couldn't find a way to blurt out my questions without… hope? Especially with crumbs all over me and on the bed, "Ok, everybody up." It was a lot awkward but I managed to remove myself from the mattress, the twins rubbing their eyes as they find themselves more awake than asleep. The plate in my hand has half a cookie left and the book I was reading was still in the air, "I…" I close my mouth and shake my head, how can I word it? Quickly, well as quickly as I could possibly move with something so cumbersome sticking out from me, I walk out of the room. There is a moment of pause while I swish my hand and several lamps around the apartment brighten enough for me to see my way. There are thumps of feet and I know they've managed to make it off the bed as I make it to the kitchen, intending on washing the plate and stuffing the half eaten cookie in my mouth.
Arms wrap around my midsection and a part of me knows that this someone is Fred. "What's wrong love?" He says as he strokes at my stomach, it's now that I begin to notice that with every touch and press I feel it, that something that tells me something's not wrong but not quite normal.
"Why do I feel like this?"
He kisses my bare neck, "Your hormones." he answers and I can't help but smile, everything's blamed on hormones, but not this.
"No… I mean…" I hesitate, I should just blurt it out but I'm afraid, I'm afraid of being disappointed. Malfoy's words still ring in my ear… 'Disownment of an unborn child is dangerous… It would lose a half of itself, if you don't rid yourself of it now you'll surely bare a squib, half a soul.' I'm saved for a moment as a glass of cold milk is shoved in my face, for some reason milk had a calming effect with me.
"Here Harry, sit." George pulls out a stool with his foot and obediently I sit, grateful that Fred is still touching, not my stomach because that would be awkward but me.
Sitting the glass down I close my eyes, "Merlin I'm such an idiot – why can't I just be happy." They share a look between them, confusion and a bit of fear. "I'm sorry." I mumble as the heels of my hand rub at my eyes, grateful that my glasses were just a memory of a life so long ago. "I think I got my hopes up."
I feel George's, it is George I'm sure, hand enclose mine, "We can make this work Harry, please just…" his voice is quivering and I frown.
Gazing at him with half a smile I lean forward and kiss his nose, I couldn't leave him, them, I was too entrenched with this second chance at love thing, they accepted me and my children, how could I not love them? "Not us you numbskull, I mean what with that damn book giving me ideas." There's relief in his face and I'm sure it mirrored that of the other one. "I'm still a bit surprised you want anything to do with me… after all I'm carrying squibs, a half soul." The last of my sentence is whispered, my eyes begin to water, I really need to stop this overly dramatic emotional stuff, I've accepted it… really, I have; I might have not liked it but these are my children, they were mine, and I refuse to turn my back on them because of something so silly as no magic.
I wince, the hands covering my own tighten along with the hands on my shoulder, I look at George, he wasn't happy, and in fact he seemed very angry. "What Malfoy did was despicable." We continued to stare, Fred's words from above embracing me, this is what I wanted to hear but yet – not. "To disown a child so cruelly goes against the very nature of Purebloods except for rare and very bad reasons such as incest, rape, or ill intent."
"It's not your fault Harry." George says, his eyes sincere. Before I knew it I had my arms around the adorable red head, my tears finally falling as I move back and kiss him. It was sloppy and really good, I loved them, I really did. "Malfoy's a prick, he's shamed his family line, the least he could have done was set up an iron clad Testimony stating that he wanted nothing to do with the child and the Malfoy name not be associated. It would have taken time but in this sort of situation it would have been proper and expected."
"So there was another option?" I take the tissue handed to me by Fred, he was unusually quite, "Doesn't surprise me, that Git was always one for dramatics, I think he actually thought I knew all this stuff."
"There's something else isn't there?" for a moment I hoped they would forget, but Fred did have a one track mind sometimes. "Just tell us and we'll explain it."
Taking a deep breath, sometimes I wished I wasn't pregnant, only for the simple selfish reasons of moments like these, moments where alcohol would be appreciated. "I was reading that story, you know Linguish and his Babe. How weird was it, I mean, there was Linguish the prince who fell in love with his personal guard after dealing with that evil Lord and through it all they made a point of mentioning how he was pregnant and how dedicated that guard was to love the prince so much he would give a part of himself to the child and I was confused. What's the big deal of the touching of the stomach; you guys touch my stomach all the time and there's no deep sigh of adoration from the public. So I finish the story and he gives birth and there's a hoopla as the baby can pass as the guard's son and the great relief of no squib or death and… and…" I can feel it happening, my damn hormones kicking in.
"And I started thinking. I have to stop thinking most times because it hurts to know that my children won't have a second father and I can't bear the thought of them being hurt because of something so stupid as not having magic, and… and… I wanted that to happen to me you know." I look up into George's face, not noticing his baffled expression since his face is a little blurred from my tears, "I wish it could happen that way, that life was a fairy tale and the twins can have parents, I know you say you love me and you'll love them as your own but I can't help that what if, I just can't and it hurts and I know it hurts you but I do love you and I know you love me because your still sitting here and… and… I just want it to be true! I want my knights to be able to give their magic to my children and make them not all half souled." By this time I'm sobbing into Fred's arm, he hauled me up and held me. I gripped on to him as if he were my lifeline, which he was; both of them were my lifelines. I loved them both so much it was scary.
"Harry, love," he kisses my ear, hand running through my hair, trying to calm me. "It's true, it's true." He repeats over and over. I don't know how long it's been but I drained, so tired and my belly is protesting, the kids do not like to see their mommy so upset, and I don't blame them. My face is blotchy and I can't feel embarrassed as Fred pulls back and wipes at my face, "Blow." He holds the napkin at my nose. I glare, a pathetic one, and do as he bids. There's a fond smile on his face and I begin to wonder, they were so odd, the pranksters of the family yet at times they can be… normal, I love them, pathetically so. "You are an idiot but we love you."
Before I have time to curse him, with words not magic, George interrupts. "What you read was true, we didn't think you didn't know, honestly. Sometimes we forget that you weren't raised here, there are some things you just know naturally." There's a quirk to his lips as he stands, his hands smoothing back my hair that fell in my face. "You never wondered why you feel that tingle every time we press our hands against your stomach." Demonstrating, his bare hand slips beneath the fabric of my shirt, and settles along my stretched skin. I still have a few weeks left before I balloon and forced on bed rest. There is a tingle met with warmth, I always assumed it was a natural sort of thing with magical pregnancies.
"What you read is true, when we said we loved you, we meant also the kids." Fred's hand slipped alongside his brother, "They might not be our by seed, like the books says, but magic. It's the same really, we're hoping we touched you enough that they'll have the famous Weasley hair."
"Yea, we figure since you have two trouble makers we can each have one, that's how it usually is for multiple birth and multiple partners." Added George, "Come on, we were going to wait a bit longer but now's just as good a time to show you." My hand is taken and I'm pulled away, quietly I follow, my mind working around what I was told. So… it was true then, what the book said, it just wasn't some happily ever after sort of fairy tale, it was true. A smile spreads my lips, my wish had come true. My hand tightens in George's hold, he looks over at me and I smile, he returns it, he must have understood because he squeezed my hand in return. This second chance at love thing was turning out better than I first thought, more than I had hoped. "Here we are, brother dear would you do the honors."
"Certainly," with a stiff back, nose in the air, Fred stands by a door, a door I have always been forbidden to open even if they do spend a lot of time in that room. "With our undying love and lots of help from mom…" with an exaggerated sort of move the door know is twisted and Fred follows the open door – into a dark room.
"I don't think…" I'm dragged forward into the room.
"The Room." Fred finishes with a deep tone just as George flicks on the light.
I stand there… simply stand there… I thought I was done crying but it seems I had more tears left – a lot more.
"It's not that funny Remus!" blowing my nose on what had to be my hundredth tissue, I can't seem to not cry when I talk about it or think about which is all the time.
Clearing his throat, lips quirking, Remus hid his ever-blooming grin behind the rim of a teacup. "Sorry Pup."
"Go ahead, laugh it up." Sighing, everyone was laughing at me it seems lately. "They had to call Aunt Molly to help calm me down." It was true, with her soothing presence and a calming potion I was settled enough to cry a little more and embrace both of my men and smother them with kisses.
"I'm sorry pup, we really all thought you knew. Didn't you wonder why we all stopped touching your stomach when the Twins announced their intent to pursue me."
"I did but I thought it was a pregnant wizard thing… I don't know that much, there's not that many books." Also true, there weren't that many.
"I think there might be one here, its part of the Black Library so it'll take me a few days to sort through that mess."
I smile, grateful, "Thanks."
"Since we're here, anymore questions I can probably answer?" Remus offered, spooning more sugar into his already sweet teeth.
I sigh, "Well, I know on my tenth month, which sucks by the way, I won't fit inside the apartment."
Smile, "So you're moving in with them?"
I blush slightly, "Yea. Aunt Molly was positively happy though she pulled them aside. She had said a while back she was going to train them to take care of babies so I guess she was making them go along with it."
Remus kept his smile, not wanting to give away what could be very well the true reason why Molly had pulled aside her sons. "You know that last week you'll be off your feet."
"Don't remind me, I wanted to stay home but my Pedi-Witch said it was best I spend it at Saint Mungo's birthing ward. Hermione says I'm lucky, the baby will be out before I can feel a twinge of pain."
"Tonks pouted about that for a few days when she learned you wouldn't feel the joy of motherhood."
"She's upset because I told her my kids are going to call her by her real name."
Laughing, "Of course I did, she took away my cookie."
I was right, it was very odd to lie down and not be able to see over my stomach, I needed to be propped up with pillows and even then I was cranky. I tried to be the nice pregnant person I could be but I was in pain. Before I was forced to bed rest – a week before I was supposed to – I had been knocking about lamps and forced to stay behind the counter of the shop. Ginny had finally decided to quit her job and work part time inside the shop, since I was free labor the twins thought very little when they all haggled over her salary. Aunt Molly was still knitting away, sewing, and being her motherly person, I already had a dresser filled with clothes from infant to a year. I was set for both the coming winter and following summer.
Outside my window I was able to enjoy the floating snow, it must have snowed while I was cooped up inside the stuffy room, not that I didn't mind the constant company of one or both of the twins, hands still on my belly, I was aggravated with the sharp shooting pains that stabbed at my back. I was looking for a pain free delivery but it seems that those books needed to be written, this wasn't pain free, this was torture, and I couldn't wait for these little buggers to grace the world – now! Flopping back on my pillow I let my breaths flow out of me, grimacing as pain shot across my stomach. Before I could shout for a nurse, Fred's hand shot away from my exposed stomach, he was shaking his hand with a hiss. "What's wrong?"
"They stung me." He says, cradling his hand to his chest. "I think they're ready to come out."
What? "No, there's three more days." While I did want them out of me there was this natural fear, and I was scared senseless.
I don't think I hated Malfoy more than at that moment. I knew my pregnancy was an accident and I knew that he was no longer the father but it was his dick that did this, whether he vowed or not. Apparently it was a little too late to drink the special potion have me float in numb drug induced oblivion so I had to do this the natural way – the very painful way. My feet were placed in what had to be called stirrups and I was flashing the world my bits but did I care that particular moment – no. All I cared about was to get these… these… children out of me so I could finally rest and more importantly eat. During that trying time I couldn't tell who was who but one twin was wiping my brow to keep the sweat from my eyes and feeding me ice chips as I rested for the briefest of seconds. The other was coaching me along, I didn't have the strength to yell at him in particular but if he told me one more time 'What a good Gryffindor you are' I was going to kill him.
What felt like hours there was a sudden relief of pressure as one child popped out and within less than a minute the other quickly followed. It seems if nature took its course a birth opening would appear right between my anal whole and beneath my balls – I had ignored that chapter since I didn't think I would go through with this, the burning and tearing followed by temporary stitching. Completely exhausted beyond belief I drop to the soaked sheets of the mattress, wanting nothing more to sleep but I hear the crying of my babies, I needed to see them before I nod off.
My first glance at them was the most breathtaking moment I've ever had. Propped against a mountain of fresh pillows I feel a wobbly smile stretch my lips as they are brought before me, each of the men I love carrying a soft bundle of cotton, shade white. Sitting on the edge of the bed beside me the part the soft cotton and reveal to me the sleeping faces of my children… that was it, my heart was captured; these were mine, born of my body, they were… these were my children, precious and innocent faces, asleep and perfection. Before I could voice what sex they were, Fred shifted the infant in his arms to a better position, against his heart and spoke, "This here is Freda."
"And here's Georgia." George drifts a finger alongside my daughter's cheek, I'm sure its silky smooth but I couldn't help but feel completely horrified. It must have shown on my face because not a moment later they laughed. "We're kidding Harry."
"That's not funny!" They laugh again, if I had the strength I would strangle them but I could feel sleep creep on me and gratefully I succumb.
I was in a right state, finally, after hours upon hours of strained patience I find myself staring up into the very amused face of Remus and Severus. I must have been a sight to see, my hair in a disarray, baby powder practically covering me from head to toe, exhaustion clear, spittle and boogers gracing both shoulders, smelling of formula… they smiled, they were out right laughing at me, not loud of course because the twins were finally asleep. I loved my children dearly, truly I do, but they were too much.
"Go Harry, have a shower." Remus smirked.
"Yes Potter, you reek."
I thank them; maybe I could sleep while showering?
"Poor bugger, he's knocked." Fred smiled fondly down at his lover.
"Here, you take Lillian and I'll take Molly." George picked up one of his girls and handed her to his brother and he grabbed the other. They were up, the hour not too late but it was time for their feeding. "Molly love you're heavy." In reply the toddler gave him a gummy smile, two bottom teeth just peeking.
Hermione tilted her head to the side, eyes squinting, mouth twitching. "Harry?"
"Do they truly need all that suntan lotion?"
I look down at one of my twin's; her arm is lathered with a fine layer of the oversized bottle of a muggle's children's sun tan lotion. It was a short vacation with the family, the sun glaring down and I knew how sensitive the pale skin of my men were and I refused to tend to peeling and crying children with sunburns… but maybe I had gone overboard by the way my other daughter was currently looking – like a red haired sand monster, the sand from the beach sticking to the sticky surface that was the lotion. "Maybe?"
With a small laugh Hermione called over Lillian, with a wave of her wand the sand and lotion was removed, a quick tap to the girl's head a slight sheen was taken to her skin. The same was done to Molly who gleefully ran to her sister's side, the gentle waves of the ocean lapping at their feet as they stomped and splashed one another. "Yes Harry, I'll teach you the charm."
I'm more than grateful; my hands had begun to cramp. "Thank you, I didn't know there was such a charm."
Both girls were dragging their laughing fathers through the streets of Birchwood Alley, a tourist area in one of their many vacation spots from over the years. "Hey! Wait for me!" Harry called out, a smile on his sun kissed face as he moved away from a window that sold blocks of cheese.
"Hurry mama!" the girls cried as they continued to drag their fathers to a store window – a window that sold handmade wooden toys, they each wanted a string puppet as was promised.
His smile was wide, genuine, eyes a lit with laughter… to any stranger one would say the lad was happy but there was one particular stranger that tasted the bitter flavor of regret on his tongue. Draco Malfoy stared out the window and watched, he watched as his long time lover of so long ago licked at a strange combination of flavors from an ice cream cone of one of his husbands because everyone knew, knew that the BWL was a married man to not one other man but twins. It was quite a scandal of short proportions but the world accepted it, there was no other choice. After all, Harry Potter loved them and his Weasley turned Potter husbands loved him in return.
He watched with jealous eyes as one of the Filthy Weasels stroked at the obvious pregnant belly of Harry… his Harry but no, Potter no longer belonged to him. The two children that were peering through the storefront windows no longer belonged to him either. "Draco darling, I would like this and this and this…" it went on. He tuned out his fiancé, a marriage of convenience, the solicitors wanted an heir, so he would give one, after all, he had 'Three Vaults, the manor, several houses, and his father's former seat' to think about and keep him… happy.
Gritting his teeth forced himself away from the window, it had been years but yet it seemed like yesterday he had those smooth and strong thighs clenching around him, those eyes looking at him with that same look, promises whispered in his ear… he missed it. Glancing up at his beautiful fiancé, for he was not going to settle for anything less of perfection he looked about the jewelry store, it was true. The woman who was to bare his one son and only child as stipulated in the contract loved neither he but his fortune and name… he wished for more…
A/N: No Sequel, sorry.