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

Author's note: This is part of the After Hours series. It follows The Interview in the progression. It won't make much sense if you haven't read the rest of the series. Thanks to Lady_Aubrey for the beta!

"– any day now, really," Harry said, his eyes shining as he talked with Molly about the meeting he and Draco had just come from at the Ministry.

They'd successfully passed the Division of Young Witch and Wizard Welfare's screening process a few weeks before, and now they were on the waiting list to adopt a child. Their case worker had warned them that the wait could be months – even years. So when the Fire-call about a potential child had come that afternoon, both Harry and Draco had been surprised and overjoyed.

"We never actually expected to adopt a newborn," Draco said, his eyes alight. "But apparently the Ministry lets expectant mothers look through books of potential parents, and she chose us!"

Harry wrapped an arm around the blond, who was sitting next to him on the sofa. He grinned, letting his other hand skirt the pocket of his robes, feeling for the object he'd placed there earlier.

"Are we still having stew, Molly?" he asked, slanting a glance toward his unsuspecting husband.

"Yes, dear," Molly said, wiping her wet eyes with the corner of her apron. "I'd have fixed something more festive if I'd only known –"

"No need to worry, Molly," Draco said, cutting off her fretting. "You'll have plenty of opportunities to fuss over us after the baby comes home. We'll need the help, I'm sure."

The older witch beamed, patting both of them on the knee as she stood up and headed back into the kitchen to check on dinner. Hermione moved over, taking her place on the over-stuffed chair that faced the sofa.

"Is it definite yet? When is she due?"

Harry laughed at his eager friend, glad she seemed so excited. Draco hadn't been kidding when he told Molly they'd need a lot of help; they were both teaching full-time, and neither had any experience with infants. They'd honestly been expecting to adopt an older child, although the prospect of bringing a newborn into their family was exciting.

"It's never definite until the mother signs the papers after the birth," Draco said, his voice a bit subdued. It was definitely a possibility, and they were preparing themselves for the disappointment. "She's not due for another five months, and we're to meet with her again next month to make sure she's still interested in letting us adopt the baby."

"Boy? Girl?" Ron asked, perching on the side of Hermione's chair.

"We don't know, actually," Harry said, grinning. "We asked not to be told. We'd rather be surprised."

"Surely you saw the Healer's reports, though?" Hermione asked, her brows drawn together. "When we had Rose the Healer showed us all the scans."

Draco laughed, shaking his head slightly.

"Oh, they showed us the scans," he said, nudging Harry with his elbow. "Harry couldn't even tell it was a baby. I got that much, but there's no way I'd have been able to tell you if it was a boy or a girl."

Hermione opened her mouth – to start another torrent of questions, no doubt – but Molly's voice rang out from the kitchen, calling everyone to the dinner table. Harry rose, pulling Draco up with him.

They sat across from each other at the long pine table, squeezed in tightly with the rest of the Weasley family. Most of the large clan had gathered together for the dinner, celebrating Arthur's birthday. The room overflowed with kids – Rose, sitting between her parents; Bill and Fleur's two daughters, Victoire and Dominique, battling for the space of honor next to their grandfather; Percy's oldest, Molly, sitting next to her mother, Audrey, while their youngest, Lucy, sat on his lap; George and a very pregnant Angelina arguing with their son, Fred, about bringing his pet toad to the table. Charlie was there as well, a bemused expression on his face as he watched his siblings trying to get all the kids settled peacefully. Only Ginny was missing - she was on the road with the Harpies, playing a game in Wimbourne, playing a game against the Wasps.

Molly dished out steaming bowls of hearty stew along with thick slices of homemade bread. Conversation slowed as everyone began to tuck into the meal, and Draco fell into an easy chat with Bill as he ate. He never noticed Harry replace his spoon with one from his pocket, sharing a grin with George as he did.

Draco jolted as he felt a warm, wet sensation against his cock. His gaze flew to Harry's, his eyes narrowing as he watched Harry take a bite of stew, running his tongue along the spoon to catch all the drips.

Draco's fears were confirmed when he felt an answering swipe along his now half-hard cock. He opened his mouth to say something to Harry, abruptly snapping his jaws shut when Harry took another bite, this time wrapping his lips around his spoon and sucking the stew from the utensil.

"Draco?" Bill asked, watching with concern as Draco shuddered and bit his lip.

"I'm fine," Draco said, glaring at Harry, who had stopped eating to listen to their conversation. "Harry?"

Draco's eyes traveled to Harry's unused spoon resting against the table. He flicked his gaze toward it, motioning toward it slightly with his head. Harry just smiled and shook his head, scooping up another bite of stew with his special spoon – the spoon George had helped him charm to transfer sensations to Draco's cock. Draco tensed in anticipation when Harry opened his mouth, resting the spoon against his warm tongue. Draco gasped, a light tremor running through his body at the feeling of Harry's tongue tracing a delicate pattern against the underside of his cock. Green eyes remained fixed on his as Harry continued fellating the spoon, his ministrations unnoticed by anyone but Draco.

"Harry," Draco repeated, his voice full of censure. "Knock it off."

Bill sent them both a curious glance, but his attention was diverted when Victoire spilled a glass of milk at the other end of the table. He jumped up, using his wand to mop up the mess before grabbing the glass and heading to the kitchen to refill it.

"Harry," Draco whispered, leaning across the table. "Seriously. Stop it."

Harry took another bite, letting his tongue wash over the bowl of the spoon. Draco stiffened, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.


Harry ignored Draco's demands, concentrating on flicking his tongue against the tip of the spoon, imitating a maneuver that always drove Draco crazy when performed against the head of his cock.

"Harry," Draco said again, his breath coming in short pants. "Please. There are – ahh – kids everywhere."

Harry shook his head again, taking another bite of stew. Molly's cooking was superb, but Harry hadn't tasted a single bite so far. A shame, really, he thought, absently wondering if he'd have time to talk Molly into sending him home with some so he could eat it tomorrow.

Draco gasped out loud again after a particularly hard suck on Harry's spoon, drawing George and Charlie's attention. George grinned and winked at them, but Charlie just looked concerned at Draco's flushed and slightly sweaty face.

The meal continued, with Draco suffering in silence as much as he could, abandoning all pretense of eating so he could focus on stifling his gasps and moans. His fingers clutched at the seat of his chair, his knuckles white with the effort of not moving in response to the persistent swipes from Harry's tongue.

Draco bolted for the bathroom the second Molly stood to clear away the dishes to make room for Arthur's cake. Harry slipped his spoon into his pocket, rising to follow his husband. George snickered at the sight, earning a slight frown from Harry.

"I don't think Draco is feeling well," he said, nodding to his mostly full bowl of stew. "I'll go check on him. Excuse me."

Harry hurried down the hallway, stopping in front of the closed bathroom door.


"Fuck you, Potter," Draco hissed, not opening the door.

"Come out, and we'll go home," Harry said, his voice not contrite at all.

"I'm going to kill you."

"Aw, come on, Draco," Harry said, leaning against the locked door. "It's no different than what you did to me."

"I didn't do it in front of the entire Weasley family!" Draco answered, his voice dangerously low.

"No, just part of it. Come on, Draco. Come out and we'll say our goodbyes and Floo home. I promise."

The door creaked open after a few seconds of silence, and a stony-faced Draco walked through. His robes covered all evidence of his arousal, but it was clear there was something amiss from his flushed face and slightly bent posture.

Harry put his arm around Draco's shoulders, leading him back out to the kitchen, where Molly was putting the finishing touches on Arthur's cake.

"I'm sorry, Molly, Arthur," Harry said, nodding at each of them. "I'd best get Draco home – he looks really ill."

Molly bent over Draco anxiously, moving a lock of his hair so she could press her cool hand to his sweaty forehead.

"Oh dear," she tutted, sandwiching his cheeks between her palms so she could look into his eyes. "Are you well enough to go home, Draco?"

The blond gritted his teeth and nodded, his breathing still rough.

"Yes, thank you, Molly," he said, his eyes never leaving Harry. "I'm sure Harry can take care of me perfectly well."

"Oh yes," Harry said quickly, nodding in agreement as he took Draco by the arm, leading him toward the Floo. "I've helped Draco when he's like this loads of times."

Molly's concern grew even more at the news that this wasn't the first time Draco had taken ill so suddenly.

"Have you seen a Healer, dear?" she asked, watching the way Draco's body hunched over as he walked, as though he was in pain. "How often does this happen?"

"Almost every day," Harry said with an ill-concealed smirk. "I think it's something he ate – this time, at least. He's got a very delicate, er, stomach."

"Draco, it's not normal to be ill like this that often. Harry, promise me you'll get him to see Poppy tomorrow. This can't keep up – especially with the baby you two hope to bring home in a few months."

George snickered, and Harry grinned, shooting him a quelling look.

"Don't worry, Mum; I used to have the same problem as Draco pretty often before we had kids, and I assure you it happens a lot less often these days," he said, earning himself a glare from Draco and an elbow from his wife, when she caught on to what was happening.

Harry flushed, pushing Draco closer to the fireplace.

"Really, Molly, I'll take care of it," he said, grabbing a pinch of Floo powder from the mantle.

"Mum, this is something you should leave to Harry," George said, swallowing a laugh when his wife pinched him. "Angelina used to tend to me when I got like this, and it really is for the best. There are some things a mother just doesn't need to see."

Molly didn't look convinced, but she let them go anyway. "I've seen the lot of you much worse off than this," she said, her eyes narrowing.

Charlie choked, and Draco grimaced at the knowledge that yet another Weasley had puzzled his predicament out.

"No, Mum, just listen to Harry. If he says he can – er – take care of Draco, you should let him," Charlie said, smothering a laugh with his hand.

"If you say so, dear," she said, shaking her head slightly at the two men in front of her. "Be sure to Fire-call tomorrow to let me know you're feeling better, Draco."

"He'll be feeling much better sooner than that, Mum," George said, his voice strained from trying to hold back his laughter.

Draco grunted an unintelligible response, ducking into the green flames as soon as they sprang up. Harry stepped in with him, shouting out their destination. He heard Molly asking the rest of the family if everyone else felt alright as they flashed out of the Floo, closing his eyes tightly as he distinctly heard Bill and George claim that, come to think of it, they felt a bit under the weather, too, and Molly ought to keep the kids for the night just in case Draco had been contagious.

As soon as they were home, Draco lunged at Harry, causing the two of them to fall into an ungainly heap in front of the fire.

"It must have been something he ate?" he repeated, his stormy grey eyes barely visible behind his narrowed lids, his face just centimeters above Harry's.

Harry's smirk widened, his own green eyes burning with the same intensity as Draco's, though his fueled by desire, not anger.

"I suppose technically it was something I ate, but I rather thought you'd like to keep that private," Harry demurred. To his credit, he only winced slightly as Draco forced him backward in a painful battle of teeth and crushing kisses, his head rapping sharply against the stone floor, and Harry could taste blood – most likely his own.

"You absolute bastard!" Draco growled, ripping at Harry's robes. Once he had him naked, he nipped a trail of angry red welts down Harry's torso. Harry moaned, his cock bobbing violently with each bite. "Private? Half the family knows exactly what happened! I'm going to pound you through the fucking floor."

Harry bit his lip and moaned in anticipation at Draco's harsh words. The blond was in such a frenzy that he barely waited for the Lubricating and Stretching spells to take effect before slamming into Harry with such force that the dark-haired man actually skidded across the floor.

"Oh Merlin, yes. Fuck me, Draco," Harry moaned, closing his legs tightly around Draco's torso to lock him inside.

Harry keened as Draco's rough thrusts rubbed against his prostate, sparks of pleasure shooting through his body. He knew Draco wouldn't last long – not with the torture he'd subjected him to for the last half an hour – so he brought his own hand up to pump at his neglected cock, eager to come quickly as well.

He groaned as he felt Draco's smooth palm shove his own callused hand away, but his protest was abruptly silenced when the slick hand began to twist and slide over the sensitive head of his cock.

"We're not finished," Draco gasped, pumping into Harry at a frantic pace, his hand flying on Harry's cock. "I'm going to fuck you through the mattress in the morning."

Harry groaned, arching up to meet Draco's thrusts, crying out when the angle of the blond's cock was just right, his vision graying slightly around the edges as his orgasm approached.

"That's – fair," Harry panted, brushing at a lock of hair that had stuck to his sweaty cheek.

"That's just the beginning," Draco growled, snapping his hips forward as hard as he could. "Your arse is mine for the foreseeable future."

Harry laughed, tightening his legs around Draco's waist to help him deepen his thrusts. "If you can still use a word like 'foreseeable', we're not fucking hard enough," he said, gasping at the new angle.

"Fuck, Harry!" Draco cried, biting his lip to help stave off his orgasm until Harry had come, too.

Draco didn't have to wait long. Harry tensed, his cock shooting come over Draco's hand as he cried out his name, his eyes tightly shut as his body bucked underneath Draco. His orgasm pushed Draco over the edge, and he thrust deeply into Harry as he came as well.

They lay on the cold stone floor, occasionally shuddering with aftershocks from their orgasms. Finally, Harry Transfigured their cast-off clothes into a fluffy mattress with blankets and pillows, too tired to move from the floor to their bed in the other room.

"Lazy," Draco chided, collapsing onto the soft mattress that now occupied the middle of their sitting room floor.

"Smart," Harry corrected him, arranging his pillows before falling into a boneless heap.

"This is going to have to end when we bring the baby home," Draco whispered, pressing himself into Harry's side as they cuddled together, drifting off to sleep.

"No way," Harry protested, squirming slightly in Draco's loose embrace.

"We can't do things like this when we're parents, Potter. We could scar the poor child for life."

Harry laughed, twining his fingers through Draco's and raising their joined hands so he could kiss Draco's palm.

"I guess we'll just have to get better at being sneaky, then."

"You realize you're talking to Slytherin's Head of House, don't you?" Draco asked, his smirk evident in the tone. "I believe I've cornered the market on sneaky."

"Mmm," Harry agreed as Draco pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. "Not so sneaky that I couldn't prank you with your own spell, though, were you?"

"That wasn't fair. You cheated. Don't tell me you didn't go to George for help charming that spoon. I saw the way he watched us. He knew exactly what was going on."

Harry laughed, the sound muffled against his pillow.

"You're right. But it's not cheating. We never laid out any rules."

"Well, new rule," Draco said, his voice haughty. "No outside help. And no more pranks in front of the family," he added, lowering his voice. "I know most of the guys had it figured out there by the end, and I'd die if Molly or Arthur ever caught us."

Harry shuddered slightly, agreeing to Draco's new conditions. It would just make the game more fun in the long run, anyway, he thought with a smile.