FIC: Happy In Your Hands (PG-13)

[mpreg_fest_mod]

Title: Happy In Your Hands
Author: fantasyfiend09
Prompt: PROMPT # 57: Harry is a Healer specialising in pregnancy and childbirth. One day Draco comes in heavily pregnant, and Harry is the only available Healer who can help him.
Word Count: ~10,000
Rating: PG-13
Contains: No warnings.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Epilogue compliant?: No
Who is pregnant?: Draco
Notes: capitu, it was your pleas that had me signing up in the first place, and then you kindly gave me great feedback and suggestions. If I've made something good here, you deserve to share the credit. dragonstag, I loved your prompt and hope you like where I went with it.
Summary: Draco's pregnancy had been inconvenient from the beginning, but he's learning to find hidden blessings.




It was bloody typical. He was one article away from completing his research on ancient Scottish Curses when the contractions started. He tried to ignore them but he couldn't concentrate on the text with thoughts of labour pushing into his mind. When the third contraction started, he gave up.

This baby had never cared about Draco's plans and apparently that would not be changing. He pushed away thoughts about how early Lyra was and focused on his irritation at having to pause his work for a stay in St Mungo's.

With a colourful expression or two, Draco collected himself and went to get his bag. He had packed weeks ago because there was no one to go back for his things in the event that the baby came early. Which apparently she was.

It wasn't that none cared. Pansy and Blaise had offered to delay their research trip for him, but he knew they had worked far too hard to get the grants and visas for a year in Peru. They had been there when he first found out and when James had left. They had helped him move into his current flat. He couldn't ask them to stay after all they'd done already.

His father was no use, as he wasn't allowed on British soil, but his mother would have come. If he asked. If he told her. But that meant admitting that James was exactly what his parents thought he was, and Draco hadn't found the courage to do that.

He would rather go it alone. He was fine.

Picking up his bag, he walked down the steps from his flat to the front door of his building without a contraction. He had rented the place three months earlier when he had realised James truly wanted nothing to do with him or the baby. If he had to do this alone, he was going to live a block from St Mungo's.

It was mid March, so he didn't even bother with a Notice-Me-Not Charm. No one would think anything of the large coat he used to hide his condition from Muggles. Apparently they couldn't have babies without magic. The men, at least. Obviously the women could or there wouldn't be so many Muggles. But male pregnancy took a lot of magic, and that was where Muggles were sorely lacking.

He had wondered whether James would have stayed if they hadn't been able to get pregnant. The thought had tortured him for a while until he realised that it was inevitable. If not the baby, James would have fled at some other sign of permanence. Draco was just a fool for not seeing how little James cared.

Draco probably looked like an obese man in terrible shape, especially when he had stop to grip a wall and force himself to breathe. He was pretty sure a Muggle man muttered something about laying off the fish and chips as he brushed by. Draco wanted to laugh, but the contraction left him breathless.

The traffic light changed and Draco waddled across the street and down the road to the ugly mannequin that marked the entrance to St Mungo's.

"Having a damn baby," he muttered and passed through the glass.

There was a queue for the Welcome Witch, which was bloody typical. Luckily the baby seemed to be in no rush and the contractions stayed far apart. Maybe it wasn't really labour and Lyra would make it closer to full term. Either way, Draco needed to see a Healer.

"How may I help you?" The witch behind the desk had bright red hair wrapped into a wild bun on top of her head. It wasn't Weasley red, but rather a shade that could only come from a potion.

"I'm in labour." Draco opened his coat to reveal his sizeable stomach.

"How exciting!" the witch chirped. "Fifth floor, past the tea room."

Draco knew the way, but he thanked her all the same and made his way to the lift. He might not trust the Muggle one in his building, but damned if he was walking up five flights of stairs in his condition.

The elevator opened on the fifth floor to the smell of warm scones and tea, but it was early enough in the morning that the room was still empty. Draco imagined that it would fill up over time. He wondered if the patrons would be able to hear him scream when it came time to push the baby out.

He paused against a wall as his back contracted in another series of muscle spasms, but he refused to make a sound other than his laboured breathing. When the pain passed, he stood up straight and walked down the long corridor past the shop to the Fertility and Birthing Ward.

A petite mediwitch with long honey-coloured hair came up to great him. "How far apart are the contractions?"

"Still about ten minutes apart, but I …" don't have a soul to look after me so I couldn't risk waiting and not being able to get here on my own. That would be as painful as admitting how scared he was about the early labour.

The mediwitch gave a little nod. "Didn't want to wait? Fair enough. I'm Sophie and I'll be your mediwitch. Let's get you a room. It's a slow morning, so I think the corner room is free."

Draco decided he liked her. Good thing, as he was probably going to go through quite an ordeal with only her and a Healer. He thought about his own Healer and asked, "Is Healer Brightstone on duty?"

She gave him a little frown. "You just missed him." She pointed an accusing finger at Draco's stomach. "You were too slow, baby."

Draco laughed, even as he wished she'd been much slower. Yes, she had disrupted his life, but now she was all he had. Late at night, he would lie in bed, rubbing his belly and whispering to Lyra.

"Don't worry, though. You're in good hands." Sophie opened the door at the end of the corridor to reveal a large room with a bed, two chairs and a small sofa. Plenty of room for the visitors who would never come. "Healer Potter isn't as experienced as Healer Brightstone, but he's very good."

Draco was three steps into the room before the words sunk in and he stopped dead. Healer Potter? No, no. It couldn't be. But hadn't he read that Potter—the Potter—had gone into healing? There had been a whole article about how he'd seen too much death and he wanted to focus on life. Wouldn't it be just typical for him to be quite literal and go to the Birthing Ward?

"Is something wrong?" Sophie lowered her clipboard to look him in the eye. "I can change the room if you—"

"No, the room is fine. Although the space is wasted on me as I won't have visitors. It's just … Is Healer Potter Harry Potter."

Her face shuttered and her lips pressed together. "Yes, he is. But within these walls he is just a Healer like any—"

"I'm not a fan." Draco was amused by her defensive stance. "In fact, that is the problem. Is there another Healer that can see me?"

Her brow wrinkled. "No. We are short staffed at the moment. Healer Boyes is at a conference in Japan, Healer Jones is currently a patient himself on the second floor, and Healer Brightstone just went home to sleep for the first time in two shifts. I'm not calling him for at least eight hours, and you can bet that would take a bigger emergency than a patient not being a fan of Healer Potter."

"Maybe a Healer from another department?" He was grasping at straws, and it showed in the weakness of his voice.

She cocked an eyebrow. "Would you let Madam Malkin fix your broomstick just because she can stitch a robe? Just because a Healer can reverse spell damage doesn't mean he knows anything about the birthing process. And since male pregnancy is even more complicated and risky you should want someone who is trained specifically in that field. Healer Potter specialises not just in pregnancy, but male pregnancy."

Another contraction started and Draco dropped his bag to the floor. A small but firm hand on his back tipped him forward until he was resting his hands on his knees.

"Breathe. Deep breaths in and out. Long breaths out." Her voice was low and soothing and he forgot all about Potter to focus on the way the air moved through his body and took the edge off the pain.

When the contraction ended, Sophie picked up his bag and carried it to the sofa. "If you don't have visitors, you'll have more space to spread out." She gave him a little smile and then walked to the door.

"Potter won't want me either," Draco called at her back but she just shut the door. Fine. Let her see for herself. He grabbed a book from his bag and sat on the bed to read.

<^>

Potter strode in, tossed a file on the counter, and then sat on a stool beside Draco's bed and stared at him as if he were some exhibit in a zoo. Draco stared back. Potter's hair was still wild and his glasses unfashionable, but he managed to pull off the horrid green robes better than most Healers. Something to do with those startling eyes of his.

Potter finally ended the silent staring contest. "I was not aware you were expecting."

Draco narrowed his eyes at Potter's flippant tone. "You didn't get my announcement? I'm sure I would have sent it to such a dear friend."

"I'm surprised you didn't take out a full page ad in the Prophet: Ancient and Pure Malfoy Line Continues."

It was like being in school again. Draco should have risen above it, but he was full of hormones and fear, and the Healer who was supposed to be helping him was taking the piss! The ignorant tosser knew nothing about Draco and his life. "Yes, well, Malfoy Dumped By Boyfriend After Getting Up The Duff wasn't very flattering, so I chose to skip the article completely. And given the baby's other father, the Malfoy line isn't so pure any more."

Draco wasn't usually one for sharing personal information, but it was worth it to see Potter gape like a fish and look completely uncomfortable. Draco was pretty sure he was making a nasty little smirk.

Sophie walked in and look between them with a frown. "Am I going to have to chaperone you two?"

Potter sat up straight and fiddled with his glasses, suddenly sheepish. "No. No, we were just—"

"Taking Mr Malfoy's vitals and discussing whether there have been any complications during the pregnancy?" Her eyes showed that she knew the answer was not the one she wanted.

"We were just about to." Potter leapt to his feet and pulled out his wand. "Any complications during the pregnancy?" He sounded professional for the first time and began casting spells. The quill on the counter began scratching away at the file until Potter suddenly froze with his wand over Draco's stomach.

He was scowling, but it wasn't the aggressive one Draco knew so well. "She's really early."

Potter was a git, but he was finally acting like a Healer and Draco desperately needed one. Lyra needed one. He pushed down his anger and focused on Potter's green robes.

"She's ten weeks early." Draco's voice was little more than a breath. He nodded to tell Potter he knew what that meant. Well, not exactly what it meant. He knew that the lungs developed late, but he also knew there were spells to help her breathe. He was terrified to ask if she would be okay because, despite months of blaming her for taking everything from him, he couldn't imagine Lyra not being born healthy and happy.

And she hadn't taken anything from him. Not really. James was never really his. Lyra's arrival just made that clear.

"That's earlier than we'd like." Potter's voice was gentle, and Draco had to fight down a wave of panic to make himself listen. "I know there are Charms to help preterm babies breathe, but if we can bring her to term that's even better."

Potter was starting to get that stubborn look in his eyes. He had an amazing knack for fixing things, so maybe he could fix this. Draco didn't know if that was possible, but Sophie was looking to Potter with full confidence written across her face.

"I have a potion I'd like to try." Potter was looking him right in the eye with none of the earlier scorn. "It's perfectly safe for the baby, and it may interrupt the contractions and delay labour."

"What's in it?" Draco hated the thought of taking a potion he hadn't brew himself, but the chance of Lyra getting more time to develop before being born was enticing.

Potter blushed. "I … um, I'm not really sure what's in it." He looked to Sophie. Draco decided he was right in liking her when she rolled her eyes and rattled off a list of ingredients. It was a clever variation on a muscle relaxer, and he was glad to note that no ingredient would put Lyra at risk.

"And this will help delay the birth?" Draco didn't know who to look at. He trusted Sophie more than Potter after only a few minutes, but it was clear she considered Potter the expert.

"If it works, it will reset the labour. You will then go into labour at whatever future point your body and the baby deem appropriate. Hopefully it will be a time we agree with. If not, we can always try the potion again."

Draco didn't fancy the thought of taking a lot of the potion. Habitual potion use never ended well.

"Usually labour is delayed several days if not weeks." Potter sounded quite earnest, as if he actually wanted to provide some comfort for Draco. And whether he hated Draco still or not, he clearly cared about what was best for Lyra.

"Fine. I'll take the potion."

As soon as Potter left to fetch a dose, Sophie began fluffing Draco's pillow and getting out blankets.

"What are you doing?"

She smiled at him. "I'm getting you settled in for the night. The potion will make you drowsy and you'll have to stay the night for monitoring anyway. Might as well get you in bed while you're legs still work."

It was sound advice, so Draco opened his bag and took out his pyjamas. He went into the en suite and changed. Sure Sophie would be seeing every bit of him when the labour progressed to the end, but he could enjoy his modesty until then. Once he was settled in bed, Potter returned with a vial and a tray.

"Good, your settled. Here is the dose. It takes about five minutes to stop the contractions and another ten to put you to sleep. I want you to use those ten minutes to get as much nutrition as you can." He set down the tray on Draco's lap, displaying a bowl of soup, a roll of bread, fruit salad, and a plate of cheese on crackers. "You will need your strength."

As odd as it was to have Potter fussing over him, Draco just nodded. He threw back the vial and was relieved to discover it tasted like a thick camomile and mint tea. Quite mild as medical potions went. Without argument he started on the cheese and crackers. He had one contraction during his first bite, but finished the rest undisturbed. There was nothing during the fruit salad or as he dipped his roll into the thick stew. The stew was warm and rich, and the feel of it in his belly made him feel safe and warm. Warm. Soft and warm.

Sophie pulled the tray away as Draco let himself fall back against the pillows. As he drifted into the darkness, his lips curled in a wry smile as he realised he was letting himself fall asleep in front of Potter and wasn't the least bit concerned for his safety.

<^>

He was disoriented when he awoke, but soon remembered that he had allowed Potter to drug him into unconsciousness. He opened his eyes and saw Sophie standing beside him with a tray of hot food.

"Do I have a penis on my forehead?"

She blinked at him before setting the tray on his lap. "Excuse me?"

"A penis. Do I have one drawn on my forehead?"

"No," she said very slowly. "Why would you imagine that you would?"

Draco didn't have the heart to tell her that he suspected her noble Healer of taking advantage of him in his sleep, so he just shrugged. "Muggle thing."

Her lips quirked. "And as I am a pureblood, I can only assume you suspected Healer Potter of going around at night drawing phalluses on patients' heads." She shook her head but seemed more amused than angry. "You weren't kidding about you two having history. I have never seen him as tetchy as he was with you yesterday. And he's had difficult patients."

Draco grinned smugly. "Ah, but I am the most difficult."

Sophie shook her head. "No. That's just it. You are pretty routine, and despite saying you aren't a fan, you've been civil enough. I've seen people be horrid. People have said things that would make a different Healer cry, but Healer Potter brushes it off. I thought he was unflappable until yesterday. It's like you've made him a Hogwarts student again."

"Hopefully a Hogwarts student with an uncanny knack for medicine."

She rolled her eyes but smiled. "Hush you. I need to give you an exam. No contractions since yesterday?"

He shook his head. It was amazing to think that he had been in labour and now it was as if it had never happened. Lyra was giving an occasional wiggle to assure him she was fine, but no sign of another jailbreak. Damned if Potter hadn't done it.

Now he could get home and finish his research. He glanced at his bags. He could even clean the place up a bit. The nursery still needed a little—

"Don't go planning your discharge before it's approved." Sophie's voice pulled his attention back. "Healer Potter will be in soon to check on you."

It was only a few minutes later that Potter arrived and conducted a quick exam. He announced that the baby was fine, and he believed the early labour was the result of weakened magic supporting the womb. Apparently pregnant wizards usually had loving partners present who inadvertently passed magic on to the baby. Being so isolated, Draco's magic was doing the upkeep of the womb and growth of the baby alone. He had drained himself completely, and the womb had begun to fail.

The fix consisted of Potter placing his bare hands on Draco's stomach and sending a rush of heat and power into his very core. It was intoxicating and incredibly intimate. Draco found himself staring at the far wall and hoping his body didn't respond too much to the touch.

Potter just stepped away and went back to his file. "Who can I contact to pick you up?"

Draco pulled his shirt down and swallowed. "There is no reason to bother anyone." He didn't want to admit there was no one to bother. "I'll just get my things and walk home. I live very close."

Potter shook his head in that stubborn way of his. "The potion stays in your system for 24 hours and can cause symptoms at any time. I want someone to escort you home in case you are suddenly drowsy or disoriented. Besides, someone will need to provide extra magical energy to prevent another early labour, and I'd like to train them myself." Potter rabbited on, oblivious to the fact that Draco had no one in the country whom he trusted with placing their hands on his stomach to lend magic to his womb. "This close to your due date with a near miss on an early labour, you really should have someone at hand until you are back here for delivery."

"Well it's not happening."

"Surely there is someone who can stay with you or at least visit daily? I know you said that the other father is—"

"No." Draco tried to keep his temper in check, but the single word came out as a bark.

"But—"

"No! I have no one, okay? Happy? My folks are in France since my father isn't even allowed in the country and my only remaining friends are in South America. No one can stay with me and I'm not going to bloody France." He did not mention that it would be especially awkward as his parents did not know he was pregnant.

Luckily Potter wasn't going to let him stew about the massive omission to his parents because he was too interested in trying to make Draco a prisoner. "If there is no one to pick you up, then you'll have to stay here."

"Absolutely not!"

"Well, I can't—in good conscious—send you home with no care."

Draco started to shout about how Potter had said he was fine, and it was at that moment that Sophie marched back into the room.

She looked from one to the other of them in a manner so reminiscent of Draco's mother that he felt even more guilty. He wasn't sure if it was guilt for yelling at his Healer or for not telling his mother about his pregnancy.

He vowed that if the fates let him out of St Mungo's, he'd Floo his mother that very night just to ease the guilt. Probably.

The fates took Potter's side. As did Sophie, and she wouldn't help him escape. He asked after Healer Brightstone in the hopes of getting a second—contradictory—opinion, but he apparently had been in for a shift the night before when Draco was in his potion-induced-slumber. Sophie claimed Healer Brightstone would take Potter's side anyway. Apparently Potter was the expert on early labour as well as male pregnancy. Did Brightstone only see witches who came in on their dues dates?

Draco spent the rest of the day sulking in his room, eating and reading his book. By the next morning, he was feeling truly restless. Potter came in for the next magical transfer, and Draco pleaded to be released.

Potter looked genuinely sympathetic. "Listen. I realise that keeping you here for the next ten weeks isn't ideal. You'll go mental and we'll need the room. Now that the potion has left your system, I can discharge you on one condition."

Draco sat up straight and listened. He'd have agreed to almost anything if Potter let him go home.

"You have to come in daily. Promise me. I want Brightstone or me to check you every day and lend magic to the baby."

It wasn't ideal to have to go to hospital everyday, but it was certainly better than living in one. Draco agreed. Then he laid back on the bed and lifted his shirt to expose his belly. He felt so vulnerable as Potter came over to stand beside him. He hated being so exposed, but Potter was surprisingly professional. He kept his eyes on his own hands as he placed them on Draco's stomach. His hands were large and warm. They felt safe. Strong. Draco felt that maybe Potter was good at this whole Healer thing.

<^>

The visits turned out to be surprisingly easy. He didn't even have to check in with the Welcome Witch, so he could go straight to the lifts. He simply walked into the ward and the mediwitch on hand would page whichever of Potter or Brightstone was on duty. Brightstone remained his usual aloof self, and the visits were short and professional.

Potter, on the other hand, usually made some effort at awkward conversation. At first it was stupid comments about the weather. Then it was about the Quidditch. Soon enough Potter was asking into Draco's life. He asked which friends were in South America and what they were doing. He asked after Goyle and offered condolences when Draco told him how Goyle had lost touch with reality and now lived on a farm run by a former Janus Thickey Ward Healer. He even asked after Draco's mother!

When Potter began asking questions about his mother's reaction to the pregnancy, Draco had finally confessed that he hadn't told her. He hadn't meant to tell, but with Potter's warm hands rubbing his belly and Potter's lips smiling whenever Lyra kicked and squirmed … Draco had gotten a bit distracted.

"You mean she has no idea you are pregnant?" Potter lifted his hands, and Draco felt the cool air rush in to take their place against his skin. He should have kept his mouth shut. "But surely she'll find out at some point. You can't hide it forever."

Draco released a heavy sigh. "I know. I just don't look forward to the conversation that will follow."

"Because you aren't married?" Potter looked so wide-eyed and innocent as he asked.

"No. The lack of a wedding is but the tip of the iceberg." It would have mattered more if James were carrying the baby, but as Lyra was in Draco's belly, there was no need for marriage to confirm parentage.

"Tell me." Potter sat gingerly on the corner of the examining table.

Draco raised an eyebrow at him just to remind him they weren't friends. "Are you my baby Healer or my mind Healer?"

Potter blushed brightly and stood again. "I'm so sorry! You're right. It's none of my business, I just …" He turned away and stared at Draco's file again.

Draco regretted his question. Potter looking at him with those big green eyes full of curiosity was better than him fumbling about awkwardly. Draco should have enjoyed making Potter uncomfortable, but Draco found he needed the sympathetic ear more than the whipping boy these days. There was only one way to mend it. He fixed his eyes on his hands and gave Potter what he had asked for.

"He was Muggleborn. My … boyfriend?" James had never really gone in for titles. Perhaps that should have been a warning sign. One of many that Draco had overlooked. "My parents didn't like him, and I thought it was just because of his blood. They said he wasn't serious and that he viewed me as a meal ticket and sugar daddy. The last time I saw them, James came with me to France. We were staying with my parents and I got into a huge row with them about James. I stormed off and took James to Paris rather than listen to them insult him. But they were right. The second he knew I was pregnant and planned to keep her … he left."

Draco looked up from hands to find those big sincere eyes locked on him.

"He didn't want you to keep her?"

"Well, we didn't know she was a girl then. He wanted me to, 'get rid of it.' He liked the lifestyle I afforded him and a baby wasn't going to work with jetting around resort towns, staying out all night and sleeping in." Draco shrugged stupidly, needing something to do with his body under the weight of Potter's stare. "I was so angry with her at first, but I've realised that she means more to me than he ever did."

A warm hand closed around Draco's and it took him a moment to realise it was Potter's. Potter was holding his hand and looking so … intense.

"He was an idiot." Potter's voice was as soft as it was firm. "But don't let him keep you from your parents, too. Your baby matters more. Don't they as well?"

Draco just nodded because his throat was suddenly very tight.

That night he stood in front of the Floo clutching the powder until his hand ached. In the end, he sat down and wrote a letter. His owl wouldn't appreciate the long flight, but it meant he didn't have to see the disappointment in his parents' eyes when they read about the child he would raise alone because he hadn't listened to them.

<^>

Draco woke from a dream in which he was a young boy at the manor and his mother was calling him in from the garden for dinner. It took him several moments to realise that, while he was now in his flat near St Mungo's, his mother actually was calling. He was almost to the flames when he remembered the owl he had sent the night before. He looked for the pity in his mother's eyes but saw only joy.

"Draco! Darling! You are with child?" At his nod she beamed at him. "A little girl? My granddaughter? I can't believe it!"

"Aren't you angry?"

Her delicate brow furrowed. "Angry? Why? You are giving me a grandchild!"

"But, James! You were right about him and –"

"And now he's gone. More good news as far as I'm concerned." Her face fell. "Oh darling, how heartless of me! I'm so sorry. I'm sure you must be devastated. You were so fond of h—"

"No. I'm fine now. I was upset at first, but I see now that it is for the best." His mother still had that sad look that was too close to pity, so he scowled at her. "I'd rather have you insulting him than babying me, Mother. Go back to the talk about good riddance."

She laughed and it was a light joyful sound. She fell into talk of nursery rooms and baby supplies that made Draco feel happier and more carefree than he had at any point in his pregnancy. She did give him an earful about waiting so long to tell her, but she let it go quite quickly.

He asked about his father's reaction and his mother gave him a small smile. "It's not ideal. But it's his fault you didn't have the ideal options anyway. He couldn't even attend your wedding if you were to marry—" Her eyes were hard and Draco wished he'd never asked after his father's opinion. She shook her head slightly. "He just wants you to be happy." Her smile was tighter than before, but he tried his best to believe her. "And like I do, he feels that trading in that boy for a granddaughter is good news."

The next smile was more relaxed and Draco allowed himself to mirror it. For the first time, Draco was pleased that his parents disliked James so much. And he was very grateful that nothing his mother said sounded like, "I told you so."

<^>

Making Draco talk to his parents was not enough for Potter. Theo Nott owled one day to say that he'd like to meet up. Now Nott didn't mention Potter, but Draco knew that they were friendly. Nott, unlike Draco, had never followed his father's footsteps and had faired perfectly well in the postwar world. While Draco worked on research and stayed out of the public eye, Nott worked in the Ministry with Granger and appeared in the papers sharing drinks with the Golden Trio. So there was only one possible explanation for Nott's sudden interest in Draco, and it had messy black hair, green eyes, and a hero complex.

As much as Draco envied Nott's success and resented Potter's meddling, he found he wanted to see his old schoolmate again. They chose a wizarding place, due to Draco's obvious pregnancy, but a small café where the staff and patrons minded their own business. Draco and Nott—Theo, he insisted—kept their reminiscences of the past to the years before the Dark Lord's return or after the war. The time in between did not need to be revisited.

It was a pleasant meal, and Theo left with promises to owl again soon. The next day, a parcel arrived with two baby outfits and a little stuffed dragon from "Uncle Theo". Draco was surprised to realise that Theo really did want to be part of his life again.

It felt good.

Not that the realisation stopped him from shouting at Potter at his next appointment.

"I don't need you finding friends for me! I have friends. They might be abroad, but I have them."

Potter had played innocent as he led Draco to a bed where he could lie down for the magical transfer.

"Theo Nott contacts me out of the bloody blue because you told him to!"

"He contacted you?" Potter's face was far too open for him to be lying. Then he smiled that wide smile of his that made Draco feel like he was receiving an Order of Merlin. "Good for him!"

"Of course he contacted me. You told him to!"

"I didn't tell him to! I simply mentioned that I'd seen you and you seemed well."

"And he decided all on his own to contact me?"

"Obviously so. Are you going to see him?" Despite claiming he wasn't meddling, Potter was cleraly emotionally invested in Draco's reply.

Draco scowled. "We had lunch. What are you? A bloody Cupid? He is straight, you know."

Potter rolled his eyes. "Yes. I've met his girlfriend. I'm not trying to get you laid. I can't even get myself laid, why would I …" Potter flushed pink. Apparently he hadn't meant to be so candid with that last morsel of information.

Draco was pleased to know that Potter was suffering a dry spell right along with him. Misery loves company and all that.

<^>

Draco was six weeks early the next time he went into labour. It was probably too warm for his massive coat, but he was in no shape to be casting Charms on himself. He gathered his bag, waddled to St Mungo's, and demanded to see Sophie at once.

Sophie was not there. Potter was not there. Even Brightstone wasn't there. Who was? A lump of a mediwizard named Alan, who did not give him the corner room, and Healer Jones, who was no longer a patient on the second floor.

Draco demanded the potion to stop his labour, but Jones waved him off with a comment about "close enough" and Charms for preterm babies.

"Potter said to bring her to term! I want Potter!" Draco may have been yelling. He may have drawn his wand, too. He was really too upset to remember, and a contraction started right at that moment that had him doubled over and gasping for breath. By the time it passed, Jones had fled the room.

Draco waited for security to escort him out. Or perhaps more Healers to come sedate him. He wrapped his arms protectively around his rounded belly. He just wanted her to stay inside him until she was ready. It was a hard world. She couldn't even breathe! She wasn't ready.

He was starting to hyperventilate when Sophie came in. She wrapped an arm around him and led him to a bed. "He'll be here soon," she cooed. "I Flooed and he's on his way." She pulled the bedding open and helped him slide under the covers. He lay still as she stroked his hair and held his hand. When Potter arrived he had that fierce look in his eyes and a familiar vial in his hand. Draco took the vial without question and downed it. Sophie was still stroking his hair as he fell asleep.

<^>

The lump of a mediwizard had saved the day. Alan had recognised Draco from all of his daily visits and had Flooed Sophie about Draco's labour. She had gotten Potter.

Potter put a bright pink note on the front of Draco's file that said to Floo him immediately if Draco went into labour. He said it was just a precaution and then gave Draco his direct address. "Floo me first, then go to hospital. If you don't reach me, send an owl."

Draco nodded dumbly. He couldn't help but wonder if Potter was like this with all of his patients or if Draco was getting a glimpse of the treatment Potter gave his friends. Draco had always wanted to be Potter's friend.

When it was time to discharge Draco, Theo was there to walk him home. They walked up the stairs to Draco's flat and shared a pot of tea before Theo went back to work. Draco wrote his parents, downplaying how close their granddaughter had come to being premature, and then reviewed an article on Pictish Curses before he went to bed with a good book. As his daughter kicked and wiggled inside him, he realised how far from alone he felt.

<^>

The third time Draco went into labour it was the week before his due date. He Flooed Potter from his flat and found him stretched out on a sofa with Weasley laughing and pointing at a glowing box in the corner of the room. Draco almost pulled back to end the call, but Potter spotted him.

"Malfoy! Are you okay?" He was at the Floo in an instant, looking at Draco with searching eyes.

"I think she's coming."

Potter nodded. "Okay. Do you want me to come through? We can go to St Mungo's together."

It seemed unnecessary to Draco. It was an easy walk for him, and surely Potter had direct access to the Floo in St Mungo's. But then Potter had turned his back and was telling Weasley how he was "off to Malfoy's" and to let himself out after the show. Draco pulled out of the fireplace and looked around at his flat. It wasn't messy, but it was hardly in condition for visitors.

Not that it mattered. Potter tumbled out of the Floo and his eyes immediately went to Draco. He checked his face and his stomach and then cast a serious of spells.

"She's fit for the outside world," he declared with a grin. "Now owl your mother so we can get you to St Mungo's."

Draco must have made some sign of confusion or protest because Potter narrowed his eyes into one of his intense glares that carried all of the heat and none of the malice of the past.

"Your father was exiled. Not her. She should meet her granddaughter as soon as she can, and you will need the extra help."

Draco nodded and wrote a quick note. He stuck his head out the window and called for his owl. Astrid usually perched on top of Draco's building so that she was available but could still pretend she was a wild animal. She fluttered to the sill moments later and shook out her golden brown wings. She wasn't as large as the owl he'd had in school, but she was fast and strong and would get the letter to his mother as fast as any bird could. With a nip and a wink, she took off with her missive.

He watched her soar up into the air before he felt the aching approach of another contraction. It was but one of many he would have that day, but unlike the previous times he'd been in labour, Draco knew Lyra was ready. The contraction still hurt and took his breath—and they would only get worse—but these contractions were pushing his little girl into the world for him to hold in his arms and see with his own eyes.

It was with that promise in mind that he let Potter guide him to St Mungo's and the corner room Sophie had set up for him.

It wasn't a long labour, but it was still several hours of pain and exertion. Draco wouldn't have managed alone, but Potter and Sophie were there every moment, holding his hand and talking him through. He wished James had been there to curse and throw things at, but it was better to have two people he trusted to stay with him until the end.

When she was finally born, Potter placed Lyra in his arms. "Here is your daughter, Draco. Perfectly healthy and absolutely beautiful." Then Potter began casting spells on Draco as another Healer approached. Draco wanted to ask who she was, but he was too tired to bother. Instead he held his daughter close as the new Healer waved her wand over Lyra's head and body.

"I'll want to do a full check-up on her," the Healer said, "but I'll give you some time first."

Draco tried to nod, but wasn't sure he managed. All he wanted to do was stare at the small, wrinkled red face of his baby girl. Her eyes were closed, her lips perfect little bows, and her nose a little bump of a thing. Her hair was a mousy brown, but that—like her eyes—was no indication of her permanent colouring.

He looked for signs of James, but he didn't see any. He didn't see himself either. She was her own little self. Draco just smiled and watched her.

A warm hand settled on his shoulder. It was familiar after so many weeks, and Draco found himself smiling up into Potter's face. Potter's eyes were open and beautiful, and Draco wanted to say something. A thank you? Would that even begin to convey what he was feeling. He didn't get to find out because Potter suddenly pulled away and left the room.

Sophie cleaned up the bed with a spell and ordered Draco to rest. He looked down at Lyra and found his concern at Potter's sudden exit dissolve. He couldn't think of anything but the tiny baby in his arms.

<^>

At some point the Healer came back and took Lyra to the side for a barrage of spells. Draco would have lost his cool if Sophie hadn't been by his side subjecting him to her own round of spells and questions. He'd been forced to drink cup after cup of water and then sent to the toilet like a small child just out of nappies.

Only moments after getting Lyra back in his arms, his mother burst into the room.

"Is that her? Oh, Draco, she's gorgeous!" The use of his name was the only acknowledgement she gave him as she locked her sights on Lyra. She glided across the room and scooped his daughter out of his arms once again. He was tempted to comment, but the pure delight on her face made gave him pause.

She was beaming. Her cheeks were stretched wide and her brow was arched up in purest adoration. She was happy. Effortlessly and sincerely happy. He had forgotten what that looked like on her. He hadn't seen it in years. If it cost him a few moments with Lyra out of his arms, he could pay that price.

He felt the bed recline and his pillow being fluffed. He'd forgotten Sophie was still in the room. "Rest while you can," she said in her calm low voice. "You will have plenty of time to hold Lyra, and very little to sleep."

He nodded, even as the mere mention of sleep seemed to remind his muscles of the pushing and pain they had just endured. He blinked twice and fell asleep.

Only the dark windows showed that time had passed. His mother still held Lyra to her chest, although she was now seated by the window.

He sat up, and she met his gaze with a smile. "She's perfect, darling. She's slept and eaten and filled her nappy. She's a perfect, healthy baby."

A few smug remarks came to mind, but none seemed appropriate. Instead he just smiled.

His mother walked to his side and handed his daughter back to him. A tension he hadn't been aware of eased as he felt that warm weight settle back against his stomach. This is where she had been for months. She belonged here.

"We will need to discuss your living arrangements."

Draco looked up at his mother in confusion.

"I sent Taffy ahead to your flat with my things. She informs me there is no guest room. That will not do, Draco. I told her to Transfigure your desk into a bed."

His desk?! His research! His papers. All neatly filed and – His mother was laughing. It was a light, if slightly evil, laugh.

"Oh Draco. You are too easy." She was shining at him as she pressed her lips together to contain her mirth. "I had her put a bed in the nursery for me. You'll need your rest and I can be up with her in the night." She waved off his attempt at protest. "I doubt you'll even put her in the nursery with the way you are clinging to her. I'll probably have the room to myself.

He had to admit that the thought of having Lyra an arm's length from him made him too upset to even contemplate leaving her in another room. All that last minute decoration of the nursery for nothing.

Sophie came in with a set of vials. She handed them to his mother one at a time, explaining each potion in detail. Draco felt he should protest them discussing his care without him, but he couldn't feel upset when Lyra opened those dark blue eyes and wrapped her little hand around his pinky.

Sophie and Healer Brightstone each checked on Draco once more, but it was Lyra who received most of the medical attention. Two days passed in a blur, and then his mother was taking him home.

He hadn't seen Potter at all to say thank you or goodbye.

The next few days were an endless cycle of bottles, crying, burping, filthy nappies, and poorly timed naps. Draco realised he would never have managed on his own. Taffy made him eat and his mother took Lyra whenever he would let her. Sometimes Lyra's cries would have him franticly searching for a cause. What was bothering her? She was dry and fed. Was it gas? When he worked himself up, his mother would snatch Lyra away and send him off to nap or bathe.

It was thanks to his mother and her elf that he was even coherent when Theo dropped by with a massive grin on his face. He hugged Draco and offered congratulations before insisting on seeing Lyra. She still looked like a large mole, but Draco thought she was beautiful and Theo agreed. They sat and talked about books and current events, and Draco was grateful for the reminder of the world beyond feeding and nappies.

It wasn't until Draco was bringing Lyra in for her one week appointment that he saw Potter again. He was walking out of the Child Healer's office with Lyra in his arms, and Potter was loitering in the hall. Potter tried to pass it off as a coincidence, but there was no doubt in Draco's mind that Potter was waiting for him.

Potter cooed over Lyra and asked after Draco's mother. It was all a bit formal until Potter blurted out, "Can I visit you?" He met Draco's eye for only an instant before dropping his gaze to Lyra again. Even with his head angled down, Draco could see the pink on his cheeks. "Not as a Healer, but as … I dunno, a former schoolmate? A friend of Theo's?" He looked up again. "A friend of yours?"

Draco smirked at him even as his heart beat harder in his chest. "Always trying to find new friends for me, aren't you?"

Potter mumbled something Draco didn't catch, but he swore he heard something about Cupid. He didn't get a chance to interrogate Potter as a mediwitch interrupted them. Potter promised to owl and then hurried off with the mediwitch.

<^>

Potter arrived early for lunch with a stuffed owl and box of chocolates. The owl was clearly a gift for Lyra, but the chocolates caught Draco's attention. Did Potter usually bring fine chocolates to his friends? He couldn't image Potter bringing them to Weasley or Theo.

Equally suspicious was the pink of Potter's cheeks and the awkwardness of his posture. They had developed a friendly rapport over the past several weeks, and now Potter was painfully awkward again. Draco asked if he was okay.

"You know I'm not your Healer any more, right?" Potter's tone was a bit aggressive, but his eyes were pleading.

Draco nodded slowly, not sure what Potter was getting at. Did he think that Draco expected home medical visits? "I know I have a follow-up appointment next month with Healer Brightstone."

"That's right!" Potter nodded rigorously. "Brightstone is your Healer. I'm your …" He looked a little lost. "Friend?"

There was part of him that wanted to snub Potter just as revenge for his eleven year old self. Luckily, it was a small part of him. "Yes, you're my friend."

Potter's whole body relaxed. "Good. Great. Let's have some lunch."

Draco led them to the kitchen where his mother was setting out sandwiches. Potter and she exchanged pleasant greetings and Draco led Potter to the bassinet where Lyra was deep asleep. "She loves her midday nap." He gave Potter a wry smile. "So do I. She's a demanding little thing, and I have no idea how I would have managed without Mother." He added a quite thank you that made Potter smile.

Potter came by the next week for lunch. And the week after. That time he brought Draco a birthday gift and Draco was horrified to realise he had forgotten his own birthday amongst the late night feedings and the endless nappies.

Soon enough, Potter was stopping by for lunch several times a week. Sometimes Draco or his mother made lunch, and other times Potter brought take away. It made sense, what with Draco's flat being so close to St Mungo's. Surely visiting Draco was simply easier than Flooing to the Ministry to see his other friends. And if Potter started dropping by after work as well, that was also because of the convenience.

It still made him smile to think that he was Potter's friend. Potter asked his advice. Potter shared his day. Potter patted him on the shoulder and knee and smiled at him with those bright eyes of his. So why was Draco still not happy? Why did he still feel like something was missing? Every time Potter left to go back to work or to go home, Draco wanted to protest that something was dreadfully wrong.

His mother came in one morning as Draco was burping Lyra after a feeding. "How's my angel?"

Draco snorted. "Angels don't wake their fathers every three hours."

"She needs food to grow." His mother always took Lyra's side. "Any plans for today?"

"Potter is taking Lyra and me to the park. The weather's really nice, and I think both of us could do with some time out of the flat."

His mother nodded with a pensive look on her face. She stepped closer and rested a gentle hand on his arm. "Just so you know, this time you've chosen well. Even your father will think so. Eventually." The kettle whistled before Draco could ask what his mother was on about, and after cleaning up a burp cloth and a nappy, he forgot to ask her.

Potter was restless as they walked through the streets of London with Lyra in her pram. He fidgeted and stared at Draco only to turn sharply away and stare off at the clouds. By the time they'd reached the park, Draco was fed up. He parked the pram in the shade and then rounded on Potter.

"Out with it!"

Potter flinched and Draco resisted laughing at him.

"You have something on your mind, so spill."

Potter took a deep breath. "Well, next week is my birthday, and my friends are throwing a party for me at the Leaky." Potter stopped and took another deep breath. Draco wondered why Potter seemed so affected. Yes, a party at the Leaky was tacky, but it wasn't like Potter to understand that and be bothered. "I want you to come."

Draco waited for more, but Potter was just watching him with clear expectation. Why was Potter so worried? Did he think Draco such a snob that he wouldn't attend or would be angry to have been invited? Silly Potter. "Okay. I'm sure my mother can watch Lyra for the night."

Potter did not look relieved, instead he looked even more agitated. His lips were pressed together and he looked as if he might vomit. "As my date."

"Your what?"

"I want you to come as my date. It's my birthday, so it's the time to take risks and all that. And if you think it's a horrid idea, you have to at least say so nicely. Because birthday boy." He spoke very quickly before bracing himself for Draco's reply.

The man was an idiot. Did he really think Draco would cruelly reject him? Or that if Draco wanted to cruelly reject him he would be hindered by a little thing like an upcoming birthday? No, Potter was an idiot. But he was a handsome, sweet, and charming idiot.

"I accept."

"What? Really?"

"Yes. I accept."

And there it was. Potter's largest smile. The one that made his eyes crinkle and shine and pinched his cheeks until a small dimple appeared on his left cheek. Draco would do anything to see that smile.

<^>

Draco thought Potter was being rather silly when he insisted on picking Draco up for their date. Draco could have just met him at the Leaky and avoided his mother's little smirk or her comment about how she wouldn't wait up.

When they reached the Leaky, however, Draco was very grateful Potter had insisted. It was daunting to walk into a room full of people he had insulted and even injured in his youth. If not for the strong hand at his back, he might have turned and fled. But Potter quickly led him to a table in the corner where Theo sat with Granger and Lovegood. The two witches both had ample reason to scorn him, but instead they both smiled and welcomed him. Theo pulled out an empty chair for him as Potter was greeted by friends and pulled away.

Theo facilitated a conversation between Granger and Draco, and they were soon sharing their own research on Curse development in different countries. Lovegood just looked on with her usual absent smile. Draco had mocked that very expression in school, but now he was simply glad for the lack of hostility.

Longbottom approached with a tray of pints and Draco froze. He knew the Leaky belonged to Longbottom's wife and wondered if he was about to be evicted. Instead, Longbottom started pulling pints off the tray and handing them out. The smile he shared with the rest of the table fell away when he reached Draco, but he still handed him a pint that didn't appear to be poisoned. Draco offered his thanks and received a tight nod in return. That was good enough for him to let out his breath and relax into conversation again.

It took some time for Potter to make it back to their table, and Draco teased him about being a negligent date.

"That's part of why I wanted to pick you up. A few moments with you before I had to play guest of honour." Potter's smile twisted up on the side. "And to make sure you actually showed."

Draco huffed as if offended, but he remembered the feeling of entering a lion's den and knew Potter was right to escort him. Not that he would admit it to anyone but himself.

Potter picked up his pint and took a long drink before clunking it down with finality. "Anyway, I'm all yours for the rest of the night. I've greeted everyone here, so no one can say I didn't do my duty. I shouldn't even have duties! It's my birthday." He pouted at his pint for just a moment before turning to Draco with a warm smile.

Draco's mind was still echoing I'm all yours. He liked the sound of that.

Theo said something and Potter laughed, reminding Draco that he had lost the thread of the conversation. He tried to pick it up again, but Granger and Theo moved on to discussing a work matter than went over his head. Potter had clearly given up on the conversation and settled for staring at Draco with a smile.

"Yes, birthday boy?" Draco prompted.

Potter's smile turned wolfish. "I was just thinking about what I'd like for my birthday."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Don't look at me. I already gave you a gift. And don't pretend you can't read. You didn't become a Healer without reading books on Potions." He had been rather nervous to give Potter a book on the subject he had clearly hated in school, but it was about the potion that had brought Lyra to term and the author wasn't as tedious as most other authors of the topic. Given Potter's abysmal acting abilities, Draco was quite sure he genuinely liked it.

"I love the book, but I was hoping for one more thing."

Draco gave his most sceptical expression.

"No birthday kiss?" Potter batted his lashes innocently. It was rather cute, and Draco couldn't claim he hadn't been watching Potter's mouth as he talked. He was quite curious how Potter's lips would feel, how his mouth would taste. He didn't realise he had leant into Potter's space until Potter stopped him with a hand on his cheek. "Not here," he whispered.

Draco blinked and looked about at the people around him who had grown more rowdy and intoxicated as he had sat talking. There was the smell of spilled beer and the sound of too-loud conversation and even some off-key singing. As far as romantic settings went, it wasn't quite first-kiss material. And Draco did hope there would be later kisses to mark this one as a first.

Potter gestured toward the door with hopeful eyes and a little smile, and Draco nodded. They said their goodbyes to Theo, Granger, and Lovegood, and made for the door as stealthily as they could. The well-wishers were too deep in their cup to notice their birthday boy sneaking out with more than an hour left until last call.

Outside, it was still warm despite being so late. It had been a particularly hot day, and Draco had had Lyra stripped down to just her nappy as she played in the cool grass in the shade of the park. It was odd to know that she was at home in bed and Draco wasn't with her. Part of him longed to return home to her, but he knew she was fine with his mother.

This thing between him and Potter was also young and in need of care. Draco needed to know what it could become, and that wasn't something his mother could help with. It was something he would have to discover on his own.

He linked his hand in Potter's and led him to the far end of Diagon Alley where the Ministry had planted a small memorial garden after the war. There was a simple wooden bench nestled among the bushes and Draco led Potter to it. This was a much better romantic setting than a pub.

In the light of the moon and the nearby lampposts, Draco could see Potter's features even as the colours appeared dampened into shades of grey. But Draco remembered the green of his eyes, the red of his lips, and the way his cheeks turned pink when he was embarrassed.

Potter's tongue ran along his bottom lip, leaving it shiny in the low light. Draco glanced from the lip up to Potter's eyes and found them full of the same anticipation and hope he felt in his own stomach. He leaned forward until he met Potter's lips with his own, and they stayed pressed together for a long moment before slowly opening their mouths to each other's tongue.

They didn't tear at each other's clothing or moan into each other's mouth. Draco hope those moments would come, but they weren't ready for that yet. This was a careful exploration of what could be.

Draco needed to be cautious. He couldn't put anyone before Lyra and he would never let another man walk out on her again. If Potter was to come into her life, Draco had to be certain he was staying. But that too could wait.

In that moment, all that mattered was the warmth of Potter's body and the way he felt safe and strong in Draco's arms.






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