Hey, everyone. I've just recently started writing again after a short break, so I'm doing some warm-up stories. I hope you enjoy this story :)
WARNINGS: Slash (male/male relationship) Non-Explicit male pregnancy.
Disclaimer: I do not, nor do I claim, to own Harry Potter. All copyrights belong to J.K Rowling. I do not make any profits from this story.
Harry snuggled deep into the chest of his lover, staring into the burning fire. Outside, the snow fell down fast, covering the yellowed grass in a blanket of white. It was a rare calm day, and he was thankful for it.
The wizarding world had been a flurry of activity since the downfall of Voldemort. Everyone pitched in to rebuild Hogwarts and Hogsmead. Most worked for many hours in a day and were exhausted by the time they returned home. The aftermath of the Final Battle – as it had been named – was tragic. Years later, the death toll still grew. Bodies were found buried under ruble and hidden in the Forbidden Forest.
One of the first bodies located was Fred Weasley. Before the discovery of his grotesque corpse, the family and friends of the redhead had held onto hope that maybe he had somehow escaped and was in hiding. The reality was crushing.
Green eyes glanced up at the familiar face. For this person, Fred's death struck hard. He had almost been lost in sorrow. George just hadn't known what to do without his twin at his side. Harry realized just how bad it was when he walked in on George holding his wand to his throat. It was a terrifying sight, indeed.
Harry just managed to snatch the wand from George's grip second before the spell was muttered. The fragile nineteen-year-old had collapsed into heart-wrenching sobs while Harry held him. They sat for hours like that.
Their friendship grew that night. Harry became George's stronghold, just as George became Harry's.
When Ginny told him that she had gotten back with Dean Thomas, Harry had been shocked. He knew that he had broken up with her, but he always thought they'd carry on with their relationship after the war. Harry realized how selfish that was, so he let her be happy.
He had gone to George's apartment above Weasley's Wizard Wheezes in the middle of the night because he couldn't sleep. They drank a cup of tea together, with not a word passing between them. Words weren't needed; both boys were content to share each others company in silence. Harry fell asleep on the others shoulder.
In the morning, Harry woke up to words of whispered love. After the initial surprise, Harry had returned the love to a very stunned George. He hadn't thought Harry was awake. That was the day of their first kiss.
It was nothing like a fairytale. Tongues tangled awkwardly, teeth clashed, and hands hovered - not knowing an acceptable place to land. The imperfection had made it all the better.
A thousand kissed followed that one in the months after. A month turned into a year, and now it was almost their second-year-anniversary.
The Weasley's had been astonished when George and Harry told them able their relationship. The shock had been short-lived as Ginny and Molly wrapped them in a hug. Arthur merely smiled and said he supported them fully, as did the three oldest Weasley children. Ron had stuttered out, "When did you two start liking blokes?" He was promptly smacked by Hermione, who was there too. Harry snickered at the memory.
Arms tightened around him, "What's so funny, love?"
Harry peered up at his assigned pillow, "I was just remembering how we told your family about us."
George laughed softly, "Yeah, I thought Ron was going to shit his pants."
"Now, George," Harry tried to put on a stern look but he was positive his mirth was showing. "We don't use that kind of language. What would your mum say?"
The redhead snorted in an inelegant fashion. "I'm twenty-one now, I can swear if I want to."
Harry giggled, ducking his head and making his bangs fall in front of his eyes. A hand gripped his chin, pulling his face upwards.
Blue eyes bore into his, "God, you're so beautiful."
A blush quickly crawled up his neck. He stared into the eyes of his one and only. Now. Harry had to tell George now. The secret was eating at him; worry was ever-present in his heart.
With a resigned sigh, Harry turned to where he was straddling George, his hands rested on the others chest and Georges' arms encircled around his waist.
George immediately sensed something was amiss. "What's wrong?"
Apprehensive eyes met his. "Remember when I took that potion by mistake? Instead on taking the Pepper-Up potion? Well, we figured out what it was."
A sharp intake followed this statement. "Is it poison? Is it something bad?"
Harry drew in a shaky breath, "It – it was a potion that allowed males to – to get pregnant."
Confusion fluttered onto George's face and his brow furrowed in thought. It stayed for a minute, but slowly comprehension dawned underneath the freckles. "Do you mean...?"
The nineteen-year-old swallowed thickly and nodded. "How do you feel about a family?"
George smiled brightly, hugged Harry to his body. "Brilliant! This is brilliant!"
Tears forced their way out of tightly-squeezed eyelids. Before long, Harry was a weeping mess. George gently rocked him, murmured sweet words. When the salt-drops subsided, Harry met George's questioning gaze.
"I – I just wasn't sure -" Harry hiccuped. "- if you wanted a child." Another hiccup. "I thought – I thought you might leave." A series of wet hiccups.
"Oh, Harry," George rubbed his back soothingly. "I could never leave you. I love you so much."
The smaller boy leaned forward, burrowing his head in the crook of the pale neck. "I love you, too."
Nearly ten months later – the baby had been reluctant to leave the safety of the womb – George and Harry were proud parents of one James Sirius Potter-Weasley.