Harry Potter and all its indicia are © JK Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. I own none of the copyright, and this fanfiction makes no money.

Pairing: Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione, Ginny/Neville
Warnings: Slash sex, adult language. References to past Mpreg. Sexual dysfunction. Teenage hormones.
A/N: This is the sequel to 'Expecting the Unexpected' and will make no sense if you haven't read that one first. Whilst 'Expecting' was set during Harry's eighth year, this is set in the present, meaning Harry and Draco are in their 30s, and Lily is fourteen. It won't be as long as 'Expecting', although I'm not sure of the total number of chapters yet.

"Gamma Draconis, also known by the name Eltanin, is, despite its gamma status, the brightest star in the constellation Draco. In about 1.5 million years time, it will be the brightest star visible in the night sky, overtaking Sirius."

I hope you enjoy the story xx

Chapter One: Lily Turns Fourteen

Thursday 4th April 2013

Dear Dad,

Please send thirty Galleons by return owl. It's Hogsmeade weekend on Saturday and I want to buy my Teddy Bear a present for his birthday.

I love you,


Thursday 4th April 2013

Dear Lily,

You were given a hundred- yes, a hundred- Galleons at the start of term. That was to be your Hogsmeade money plus all extras- for the entire school year. What on earth have you spent a hundred Galleons on? No, I will not be sending you any money. Especially not for Teddy's birthday present. I'll add your name to the gift your father and I are giving him.

Love always,


Friday 5th April 2013

Dear Father,

I need some new school supplies. But can you send the money rather than the equipment, so I can choose my own when I'm in Hogsmeade tomorrow? About thirty Galleons should be enough. I needed new robes a few weeks ago, which is why I've already used up the money you gave me in September.

I love you,


Friday 5th April 2013


Do you think we're stupid?

You may be a Slytherin, my darling, but that was neither subtle nor cunning. It was Gryffindor-ish in its optimism and Hufflepuff-esque in its execution. A shameful attempt.

You'll be giving Teddy Lupin a new set of Quidditch gear for his birthday, along with your dad and me.



Friday 5th April 2013

Dear Father,

When Lily writes to you asking for money, ignore her. She's already tried to con Harry and me out of Galleons without success. I implore you not to give in to her- a concept I know you find difficult.


Lily Eltanin Potter-Malfoy was, to put it bluntly, a handful. With her long, flowing, white-blonde hair, bright green eyes and spectacles, she looked like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, but her fathers knew differently. At almost fourteen years old, she was beautiful, intelligent, a Slytherin in almost every way, and obsessed with boys. Well, that wasn't technically true. She was obsessed with one particular boy. A boy in the year above her, Beater on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and who also happened to be her dad's fifteen-year-old godson.

Harry and Draco had tried everything they could think of to distract Lily from her crush. Having their daughter falling for Teddy Lupin, when the boy was like a son to Harry (not to mention the fact that he and Lily were second cousins), was incredibly awkward. Particularly so when Lily came home from school in tears just last Christmas and said Teddy had been snogging Victoire, Bill and Fleur's eldest child (who was in the same year as Lily), on the Hogwarts Express ride home, which had led to a very tense atmosphere between the two girls on Christmas Day at The Burrow, and meant Harry and Draco had made an earlier than planned exit with Lily, and headed for Malfoy Manor to have tea with Lucius and Narcissa.

She hadn't always been a handful. It was when she'd hit her teenage years that she'd turned from their sweet, if slightly demanding, daughter into this sullen, moody, cantankerous being. It was almost, Harry thought wryly, as if she went to bed on the eve of her thirteenth birthday perfectly lovely, and awoke the following morning an uncooperative and overly-emotional bag of stroppiness. She'd always had Harry's stubborn streak and Draco's vanity; add to that a healthy dose of teenage hormones, and Lily Potter- Malfoy was a force to be reckoned with. There was no denying that the house was quieter, calmer and far more relaxed when Lily was away at Hogwarts. And Harry and Draco hated it. They and missed their (in their eyes, at least) baby girl and her melodramas every single day.

It hadn't always been easy raising a girl; despite the fact she was the centre of Harry and Draco's world, at times the lack of a permanent female presence in the house had been greatly felt- more so as Lily hit puberty. They had left topics such as periods to Hermione to explain; neither of them feeling confident nor qualified to give their daughter that particular talk, despite the fact that Harry himself had carried Lily for nearly nine months. And it had been Hermione who had taken her shopping for her first bra. And for the most part, this worked perfectly well. Hermione adored her goddaughter, and Lily adored her. The two were incredibly close, as were Lily and Hermione's eight-year-old daughter, Rose. There had been several times, however, over the years when Harry had wished Lily did have a mum in the house. Having to explain to her what a clitoris was when she had arrived home for the summer after her first year at Hogwarts and asked him had been a particularly traumatic experience for Harry, and was one which Ron still teased him about, two years on. But for the most part, Harry and Draco could look back over the last fourteen years and feel immensely proud of themselves. They'd done a brilliant job as fathers, and Lily certainly hadn't missed out by not having a mother.

Harry and Draco awoke on the morning of the second of May feeling excited. Unlike most wizarding parents whose children had their birthday during term-time, they always got to spend the day with their daughter. And not because Harry was the Man Who Lived and was therefore given special privileges, but simply because their daughter's birthday coincided with the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts; the day was always marked with a ceremony in the school grounds where Harry was coaxed into giving a speech, which allowed Lily to spend time with her parents afterwards.

They dressed, grabbed Lily's birthday presents, and Apparated to Hogsmeade, choosing to take the small walk through the village they used to call home.

Being in Hogsmeade brought back some wonderful memories for Harry of his and Draco's first home together. They'd moved away from the all-wizarding village, and the cottage Harry had loved, when Lily was two; blindingly obvious as it was once Lily became a toddler that Draco was, indeed, her other biological parent (given the strong resemblance), the press had pestered them constantly. They'd moved to Petersfield near Andromeda and Teddy, and for the most part they enjoyed an anonymous existence amongst the Muggles in the quiet Hampshire town, un-hounded by wizarding reporters who would be in serious breach of the Statute of Secrecy if they were to follow the small family around in such a Muggle area. But Harry and Draco had been very happy in their cottage, and Harry had found it extremely hard to say goodbye.

Harry absentmindedly twisted the emerald set signet ring- bought for him by Draco for Christmas when Harry was still pregnant, and now had Lily's name engraved upon it- with his thumb, as he so often did when he thought of his daughter. The ring hadn't left his finger in fourteen years. He grinned as he took in the familiar sights of Hogsmeade, grabbed Draco's hand in his, and the pair set off towards Hogwarts.

The service was as it was every year. Kingsley was still the Minister for Magic, and he stood, as he did every May 2nd, on a podium and read out the long list of the deceased. It was true that the service no longer carried the harrowing sorrow that the first couple of anniversaries had- time is a great healer, after all- but the occasion was still a sombre one.

After Harry had delivered his carefully crafted speech (written by Hermione, of course), the event was brought to a close, Harry shook hands with a seemingly never- ending line of people wishing to say thank you, before saying a quick goodbye to the Weasleys and heading off towards the castle with Draco, eager to see his daughter.

It didn't take them long to spot her. She was sat on the floor by the entrance, legs curled under her, and reading from a Muggle paperback novel that seemed to have a picture of a knotted grey tie on the over- an odd picture for a cover of a book aimed at a teenager, Harry thought. He couldn't quite pick out the title, but thought he could see the word 'Grey'. Lily noticed her parents coming, her cheeks flushed slightly and her eyes widened, and she hastily threw the book into her bag, instantly rousing Harry's Head Auror suspicions. He made a mental note to investigate the book title on the Muggle internet he'd insisted on having installed as soon as he and Draco were home. He shared a quick glance with Draco, and noticed that it had not escaped his attention, either.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart," he said, as Lily stood and threw herself into both his and Draco's arms.

"Thanks, dad," she replied.

"Happy fourteenth, Lily Bud," Draco said, smile huge, and handed over the bag of presents he'd been carrying. Lily squealed.

"Let's go to the lake. I'm starving and I wanna open these!" she said excitedly.

They reached the lake, which was now mercifully devoid of people who had gathered for the memorial, and Harry conjured a large, soft picnic blanket. They all sat, and Lily began tearing into the wrapping paper, making noises of delight as she uncovered her gifts.

"Thank you, both of you, I love them all," she said, Vanishing the wrapping paper with her wand (much to Harry's proud surprise- he certainly couldn't do that when he was in third year) and giving Harry and Draco kisses on the cheeks.

After they devoured the picnic that the Hogwarts house-elves had graciously served them, Harry lay with his head in Draco's lap whilst Lily made an uprooted daffodil dance what appeared to be the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy from the Nutcracker, just for the sheer enjoyment of it. Lily's wand was ten inches long and crafted from aspen and phoenix feather- a fine wand for duelling, Ollivander had said when they bought it nearly three years' previously. Harry had laughed when Ollivander explained that it was those of strong mind and determination who tended to be chosen by aspen wands. He'd described their daughter exactly.

"Didn't he, Dad?" Lily said, nudging Harry in the stomach and jolting him back to the present.

"Er, what?" he replied, having not heard a word. Lily rolled her eyes dramatically. "Teddy! God, Dad, don't you ever pay attention?"

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, and Draco began to laugh.

"I was just saying. Teddy broke the Gryffindor record for the most Bludger hits in a single season last year," Lily said. Harry had to physically stop himself from rolling his own eyes, just as his daughter had done less than a minute ago. He looked at his watch. It had taken just under an hour for the topic of conversation to get round to his godson. He sighed, resigned.

"Um, yeah. Yes, Lils, he did."

Lily continued to talk about Teddy for the next half an hour, whilst Harry and Draco made non-committal 'hmm' noises and nodded their heads in roughly the right places. They sat out by the lake until the early May sunlight began to fail.

"You'd better get back, Lily Bud," Draco said reluctantly. "Lessons tomorrow." He hugged Lily tightly to him, then Harry did the same once they'd pulled apart. They walked Lily back up to the castle, made her promise to write soon (and not just to beg for money), hugged her again, and then turned to leave. Harry felt, as he always did after having to leave her at school, a mini bereavement, like a part of him was missing. He turned his attention to the Quidditch pitch where the Gryffindor team had just started their practice. Harry considered calling Teddy over, but didn't want to interrupt. Instead he watched proudly for a couple of minutes, idly thinking he'd come up to Hogwarts for the last Slytherin game of the season to watch Lily Seek, before heading across the grounds with Draco and Apparating home.

"It's only seven weeks until the end of term," Draco said, obviously reassuring himself as much as Harry, as soon as they were back in their house. Harry nodded weakly, forcing out a small smile. Desperate for a distraction- just something with which to occupy himself for a few minutes- he decided to try and find out what book Lily was reading. He grabbed his laptop, fired it up, and tapped 'grey tie book cover' into Google. A quick image search brought up the title he was looking for (yes, he thought, Muggles definitely did some things way better than wizards, and research was one of those things), and he read its Wikipedia entry. He felt his mouth drop open, indicated the article to Draco- who gave a whimper of distress when he read it- and immediately penned a letter to McGonagall, pointing out what exactly the third year Slytherin girls had managed to get hold of to read, and maybe she'd like to intervene. He called over Tinky Winky (and wasn't that a mistake, letting a three-year-old Lily name his owl?), attached the scroll of parchment to his leg, and sent him off into the pink and gold sunset.

"I cannot believe our little girl was reading that," Draco said eventually. "She's only fucking fourteen."

"As long as she's only reading, not doing," Harry replied, then pulled a face. "Actually, scrap that. I don't want her reading it either."

"Fancy an early night?" Draco asked, and it was clear from the smirk on his face that it wasn't sleep on his mind. Harry's stomach felt unpleasantly like he'd swallowed Neville's old toad alive. He fixed a grin on his face, remembering the last time they'd had sex. Please don't let 'it' happen again, he thought to himself, as he heard his voice say, "Sure, why not?"

If only everything was as easily solved as writing a quick letter. But, as Harry followed Draco out of their living room to their bedroom, he had a slight inkling that a sheet of parchment and a Self-Inking Quill weren't going to help him with this particular problem.

"Fuck, yes," Harry heard Draco gasp from behind him, as the hand that was holding his hip firmly snaked around and gripped Harry's semi- erection tightly, his lips fastening to the juncture of Harry's neck and shoulders that was always so sensitive. He thrust into Harry's body in strong, rhythmic strokes, his chest, slick from perspiration, gliding easily against Harry's back. He was clearly very aroused indeed. Harry screwed his eyes tightly and bit his lip, wishing he was too. He focussed his energy on making the noises that he knew Draco would want to hear, throwing in a few, "God, there, yes" vocalisations for good measure, and willed himself not to cry. For the truth was, he couldn't wait for Draco to hurry up and come so it would be over.

It wasn't like last time at all.

It was worse.

Last time he'd at least managed to get properly hard, and he'd felt aroused. He was just unable to finish. This time, however- Merlin, how Draco hadn't noticed that Harry was barely even erect was beyond him. Harry screwed his fist into a tight ball as he listened to Draco's breathing becoming shallower and faster. Nearly over then, Harry thought, his eyes stinging. With a final hard thrust, and a rushed exhalation of breath, Draco buried his face into Harry's neck and came.

Harry could feel Draco's slightly trembling body, his pounding heart against his back, as he listened to the harsh breathing begin to normalise once more. Draco gently pulled out of Harry, rolled him from his side onto his back, and Harry had a split second to notice that Draco looked flushed and dishevelled, before his mouth was firmly on Harry's, and Harry was kissing him back, and maybe it would be OK, because Harry knew he loved Draco with all his heart.

"You didn't come," Draco said gently, once the kiss ended. Harry was sure he didn't imagine the tinge of worry to his voice. "Let's rectify that, shall we?" And before Harry could say anything at all, Draco kissed a trail down Harry's stomach and took his slightly engorged cock into his mouth…

…Which triggered one of the worst things ever. Harry's lacklustre erection, such as it was, finally died a death. He could literally feel it disintegrating, as if shying away from Draco's mouth. Draco froze, before pulling away from Harry's now extremely uninterested member. He looked up at Harry, his eyes full of pain.

"Harry…" he began, but clearly didn't know how to finish his sentence. Harry put his face in his hands.

"Please, Draco, can we not talk about this? It's been a busy day, what with Lily's birthday, and the memorial and everything. I'm just tired, OK?" he said. Draco bit his bottom lip, obviously toying with whether to say anything anyway.

"And Sunday you said it was down to being stressed out at work over the Wyatt case," he replied finally. His voice was calm, but Harry wasn't fooled for a second. "Look, Harry, I'm sure I can make a potion to help. When I'm back at St Mungo's tomorrow, I'll look in Medical Potions for you. Something with ginseng or yohimbe bark, maybe."

"I don't need a potion. This has only happened twice," Harry said sharply. He wasn't going to mention he'd also failed to bring himself off in the shower the previous morning. "What I need is for you not to nag me about this, OK? Don't make a big deal out of it. Besides, you came. It's not like this is your problem, is it?"

"Fuck you, Harry," Draco snapped. "For you to even say that… I just… how can you even think… oh fuck you," he repeated. He looked very upset, and a wave of guilt crashed over Harry. He knew he was being completely unfair, but he was mortified, and more than a little worried, and he really didn't want to have this conversation tonight.

"Goodnight, Draco," he said, forcing his voice to sound as normal as possible, but making it clear that the conversation was over. Then, because he really wasn't a total bastard, and because it was the utter truth, added, "I love you." He grabbed his wand off the nightstand and flicked it at the lights.

"I love you, too," Draco's sad and confused voice came from the darkness.

Eventually, Draco's breathing evened out and he gave a couple of gentle snores, but harry was still fully awake, staring blindly into the darkness. He had no idea what was going on. He still loved Draco- of that he was absolutely certain. He still desired him, still found him delectable, even after fourteen and a half years together. And he still craved sex.

He also doubted there was a physiological reason he couldn't er, perform. He woke up every day with a proud case of morning wood. It was just his physical response to sex- or, to be specific- the lack of- that was causing his issues. He just didn't understand it. He was a healthy man of thirty-two, wasn't under any undue stress at the moment, and still found his partner attractive. So what the fuck was the problem?

Harry blinked back angry tears of frustration, and forced himself to lay still and quiet, listening to the calming sound of Draco's breathing. They'd get through this. It was just a blip, something temporary that would be overcome. Harry wished he could make himself believe that. It was a long time until sleep claimed him.