Chapter Text
August 15th, 1998
💚🍼❤️🍼💚
For a second time that day, the floo came to life, and the flames rose up in the fireplace. This time, the wards didn’t ring, and Harry blanched. “Shit, they’re early!”
As he spoke, two figures appeared through the flames. They stepped over the hearth, and came into focus. Draco turned a shade of green, and Harry put on a tense smile.
“Hey, mate!” Ron greeted cheerfully, then froze when he saw that Harry wasn’t alone on the sofa. “Malfoy?”
Hermione’s eyes were comically wide. “Harry?”
Harry jumped to his feet. “Hey, guys! Um, can you wait for me in the kitchen, please?” he asked, trying to shove them out of the room. “There’s tea and biscuits ready. Malfoy and I were just,” he coughed, not sure what to tell them, “discussing a business transaction.”
“Business?” Hermione asked, confused. “What business do you have with Malfoy?"
“You two don’t even work in the same department,” Ron muttered, eyeing the blond curiously.
Draco stood and tried to get to the floo, desperate to escape the awkward situation, and more importantly, Harry, before he barfed up his nerves. “Actually, I can come back,” he said, his stomach twisting.” You three, enjoy your tea.”
“No!” Harry shouted, grabbing Draco’s hand. Draco stiffened, and Harry loosened his grip. “I’m sorry. No, please, stay. We weren’t finished.”
Draco’s eyes darted to Hermione and Ron, and he pulled his hand out of Harry’s grip. “You have guests,” he said thickly, avoiding his eyes. “We can discuss this later.”
Harry frowned and turned back to his friends. “I’ll be right in,” he gave them a stressed smile, pushed them into the kitchen, and threw up a privacy barrier. He turned to face Draco. “Godric, you can’t drop a bomb like that and run away! We need to talk about this.”
“What else is there to say?” Draco said, and crossed his arms. “I told you everything I intended to, all you have to do is decide whether or not to give me the money.”
“‘All I have to do,’” Harry said in a high-pitched, mocking tone, throwing up his hands. “As if that’s all I have to do! You just told me I’m going to be a father, and you expect me to just give you the money and leave it at that?”
Draco looked hurt, and wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I had hoped that you would be that reasonable. I can’t support a newborn, let alone a child, on such a small salary. I thought since you were their father, that you might,” he hesitated, gripping his arms so tightly it became painful. “I understand, considering our past, that you might not want anything to do with us, that it was just a night of impulse, but…” he trailed off, swallowing hard. He had expected this conversation to go poorly, but he had at least thought Harry would help him.
“What?” Harry said, and waved his arms around to clear the air. “No, no, no, that’s not what I meant at all. Draco, of course, I’ll support you financially however you need, but, I mean… can’t I be a part of this? Do-do you want to do this all alone?”
Draco had gone over it in his head more than a hundred times in the last week and a half, imagining how hard it would be to be a single parent, especially considering his background. He dreaded to think how his child would be treated for being his, all the things he’d never be able to give them, everything they’d have to grow up without.
“It would be simpler that way,” Draco found himself saying, his chest feeling tight. He didn’t want to have to rely on someone else, especially not on Harry, of all people, for his needs. Blaise might’ve promised to take care of them, but Draco couldn’t expect that much of him. He would be alone, it was his fate. It was how it had always been, and it was how it would always be; it was how it had to be.
Harry took a step towards him, reaching for his hand. “Would it? Let me help.”
Draco pulled his hand away from him again, scowling. “Do you really want to entertain the idea of us trying to be parents together, Potter?”
“Yes,” Harry said, taking his hands and holding them tightly.
Draco looked into those earnest green eyes, and his breath caught in his throat. “How would that work?” he said quietly. “We were enemies for the better half of our lives, we don't agree on anything.”
Harry squeezed his hands. “That may be true, but I bet we can agree on one thing.”
“What’s that?” Draco asked sadly, looking at him with slouching shoulders. They didn’t have anything in common, they weren’t even friends, how were they supposed to raise a child?
“We want to give this baby the best life we can, right?” Harry said, and Draco nodded. “That's what really counts. Let’s be the parents we never had, yeah? I’ll pay for all of your appointments, we’ll put together a nursery, and we'll find a way to do things that works for us.”
Draco looked at his feet. “Potter, I don’t know if…”
Harry tilted his head, trying to meet his eyes again. “Call me Harry, please.”
“Harry,” Draco said slowly, looking up at him. “I don’t know if I can do this, I’ve made so many mistakes. I’ve done such horrible things. I-I don’t know how to be a good father.”
Harry gave him a smile, shrugging. “Niether do I, but we can figure it out. All we have to do is try. It’s time to put the war, our mistakes, and our rivalry in the past. Let’s build a better life for our baby.”
“Our baby,” Draco whispered, his stomach flipping.
Harry rested his head on Draco’s shoulder and brought his arms around his waist. “We’ll take it one step at a time,” he said softly, closing his eyes.
Draco wrapped his arms around him and hugged him tightly, squeezing his eyes shut. “Where do I even start?” he said, choked up. “There’s so much to make up for, so many apologies that need to be made.”
Harry pulled back to look at him, smiling hopefully. “We could start by telling my friends.”
“You want to tell them?” Draco asked, his eyes wide. “I’ve only just told you!”
Harry laughed at his horrified expression. “I know, but they're my best friends, I tell them everything.” Draco arched a skeptical eyebrow and Harry cringed. “Alright, maybe not everything, but they’ll ask about you, and we’re going to have to tell them eventually. If you really want to turn over a new leaf, maybe start by trying to be their friend.”
Draco sighed and nodded. “Fine.”
Harry grinned and dropped the barrier, pulling him into the kitchen. “Great! Let’s go.”
Draco regretted letting Harry talk him into this as soon as he was dragged into the kitchen and Harry’s friends turned their eyes on him. He dug his heels into the floor, but despite his efforts, Harry pulled him over to the counter and plopped him down in the seat across from Hermione.
“Hey, guys,” Harry said cheerfully, going to the sink to get more cups. “Sorry we kept you waiting.”
“‘We,’” Ron said, raising his eyebrows at Draco, who was sitting so stiffly anyone would’ve sworn the stool was made out of horse hair. He was surely an unexpected addition to their Saturday brunch. “Long time no see, Malfoy.”
Draco swallowed the bile coming up his throat and gave Ron a strained smile. “Hello, Weasley. Call me Draco, please.”
“Fine by me, I would much prefer Ron myself,” Ron said, sipping his tea, eyeing his girlfriend over the rim of his glass. Hermione gave Ron a look. He shrugged and nodded his head in Harry’s direction.
Draco wasn’t sure he wanted to know what they were saying about him in their secret language, so he turned to look at the wall behind Hermione, pretending she wasn’t there. “Noted,” he muttered, taking the tea Harry handed him. “Thank you.” He gulped it down, glad for the distraction.
It burned his throat and he gagged, once again having to swallow down acid. He set the tea aside, putting his hands in his laps so they wouldn’t see the tremors. He would never live it down if he got sick in front of Harry’s friends.
Hermione finished silently communicating with Ron, and turned to look at Draco. “So, what brings you here?” she said, interested. “Harry said you were discussing a business transaction. Of what sort?”
Harry was still pouring tea for himself, the slow bastard, so Draco was forced to make eye contact and answer her himself. “Well, uh, I’m sorry to have intruded upon your meeting, but Harry begged me to attend.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Hermione said smoothly, leaning her chin on her hand.
Draco picked up his mug. “You’re right, I did not,” he muttered into his tea. “Harry, how would you like to answer that?” it was his fantastical idea to tell them, so he might as well be the one to do it. Besides, they’d take the news better if their best mate was the one to tell them. Hopefully.
Harry picked up his tea and sat down on the stool beside Draco, giving his friends a smile. “Well, it’s a little unexpected. It wasn’t business we were discussing, exactly. Draco came here to give me some good news.”
“Good news,” Draco squeaked into his cup, making a face. “Are you sure we should call it that?”
Harry elbowed him gently. “It is good news.”
“You say that, but the face Draco is making is not agreeing with those sentiments,” Ron mused, watching Draco over his mug. “Lookin’ a bit green, there.”
Hermione frowned at Draco, who had started to sweat. “Are you alright?”
Draco stood abruptly, nearly knocking over the chair. He covered his mouth, his eyes bulging. “Loo,” he gasped, his stomach lurching with the shock of the hot drink. “Where’s the loo?”
“Down the hall, first door on the right,” Harry told him quickly, and watched as he dashed off. He winced when the door knob hit the wall and the toilet seat banged up. The next thing they heard was the sound of Draco emptying his stomach.
Ron grimaced. “Oof, rough, mate. Stomach bug?”
Harry got up without answering, filling a glass with cold water, and headed into the loo. He found Draco on his knees in front of the toilet, his head hanging over the seat, groaning. Harry walked over and sat beside him. “Hey, do you want some water?”
Draco slowly lifted his head, looking like he was going to be sick again, and took the glass. He took a few drinks, expecting it to calm his stomach, but instead, his body surged again and he leaned back over the toilet, tossing the water right back up.
Harry took the glass and set it on the floor beside them, starting to rub Draco’s back, combing his fingers through his hair, tucking it behind his ear. “It’s alright, take your time,” he winced when Draco started coughing and spluttered more acid into the bowl. “I’ll find a good anti-nausea potion this afternoon, I’m sure Molly knows one that’s safe for pregnancy.”
“Pregnancy?”
Harry jumped and looked up at his friends, who were standing in the doorway, watching them. “Since when...” he murmured, baffled, his eyebrows scrunching. He hadn’t heard them follow him down the hall. When had they gotten there?
“Oh, we were here the whole time,” Ron said, his eyes wide with surprise. “Draco’s pregnant?”
Hermione leaned around Ron, looking intrigued and astonished at the same time. “Are you the father?”
Harry found himself blushing. “Um, yes, that’s what Draco and I were discussing when you arrived. We-we’re going to be parents.”
Ron and Hermione looked at each other with open mouths. They couldn’t believe it. Draco and Harry, the famous enemies, becoming parents! It was unbelievable, really.
Draco moaned into the toilet. “Surprise...”
💚🍼❤️🍼💚
“I’m fine,” Draco snapped, batting Harry’s hands away when he tried to help him get up.
Harry scowled, but stepped back. “You just threw up, you’re not fine.”
Draco got to his feet, feeling dizzy. His legs shook as he brought a hand up to his head, glaring at Harry. “It’s just some morning sickness, it’s been like this for... for...” he trailed off, squinting his eyes. That was an odd sound in his ears, like ringing. Why were there two Harrys all of a sudden? His knees buckled.
Harry rushed forward and gripped his hips, pulling him back onto his feet. “Uh-huh, ‘fine.’” he grunted under his weight, tutting at him. “You’re going to sit on the sofa and have a rest.”
Draco muttered something rude and slumped against Harry, letting him lead him to the living room. He sat down heavily, waving Harry away when he tried to fluff the pillows to make him more comfortable. “No touchy,” he curled up on his side, slipping down into the cushions. He shut his eyes tight. “Ugh, the room is spinning.”
“I’ll brew you some ginger tea,” Harry said, and headed back to the kitchen, where Draco had banished Hermione and Ron after he had thrown up for a third time and they had started asking too many questions all at once.
Hermione looked up when Harry came in, eager to get back to asking too many questions. However, she hoped she would receive some answers this time. “When did this happen?”
“June 5th,” Harry answered easily, emptying the kettle and refilling it with cold water in the sink.
Ron blinked at him. “Why that date specifically?” Harry set the kettle on the stove, hesitated, and then cast a spell to warm it up instead of heating it the Muggle way so Draco wouldn’t have to wait for his tea. “It was Draco’s eighteenth birthday. We ran into each other at a pub, spent the night together, and I haven’t seen him since.”
“He just showed up today to tell you?” Hermione asked, taking a drink of her tea.
Harry nodded, adding some chopped ginger to the hot water from a jar he had in the pantry. “He was only asking me for money to support the kid, but I suggested doing this together,” he turned and leaned against the counter while the tea brewed. “I don’t want him to go through this alone, and I couldn’t stand the thought of abandoning my own kid,” he looked away, frowning. “Not after everything I went through. This baby will have two loving parents.”
Hermione gave him a smile. “That’s good of you, Harry,” she said, then had a thought. “How are you going to handle the living situation? Will you go back and forth between flats?”
Harry shrugged. “I don’t know, we haven’t talked about it, yet,” he looked into the living room, seeing Draco lying on his back, his arm folded over his face, covering his eyes. His other hand rested on his stomach. Harry smiled a little thinking that soon, Draco would have a visible baby bump to rest his hand on. “We’ll figure it out.”
“What about telling people?” Ron asked, not oblivious to Harry’s soppy expression. “I assume no one’s been told yet, if we only just found out.”
“Blaise knows,” Draco mumbled from the other room, and they all looked his way. “He’s supportive, and I think Pansy and Theo will be, too. We’ve all been trying to change, so they shouldn’t care about blood status anymore.”
Harry bit his lip. “Do you?”
Draco sighed. “The part of me that still cares about what my father thinks of me does,” he sat up slowly, grimacing. He was still feeling ill. “But no, I don’t care if they’re pureblood or not, as long as they’re healthy. You don’t have any blood curses or anything I should know about, right?”
Harry looked worried. “Not that I know of, but maybe I should look into my family history just to be sure.”
Hermione’s eyes grew wide with excitement and she clapped her hands together. “Ooh, I love tracing a good family tree.”
Ron affectionately rolled his eyes at her. “You love anything research based.”
She smiled at him. “True.”
“You’re distantly related to the Black family, yes?” Draco said to Harry, rubbing his eyes. “You should be on the Grimmauld tree.”
Harry picked up the kettle and poured the ginger tea into a large mug. “I haven’t been back to Grimmauld Place in ages. It was left to me, but it’s old and rundown now, not to mention the bad feelings surrounding it,” he shivered. “I’ve never bothered renovating it, and I don’t think I will now, either, it’s no place to raise a child.”
Draco looked around the small flat. “Will they be raised here, then? How many bedrooms and toilets does it have?”
Harry brought him the tea, sitting down beside him and waving Hermione and Ron in. “Only the one loo and two bedrooms. One for me, one for guests. It’s not big enough for you and the child, especially if you wanted your own room. It was only meant for me and the occasional visitor."
Draco took the tea with a murmured thank you, sipping it. It brought him instant comfort and he leaned against the sofa with a sigh of relief. “I’d rather not sleep in the same room, thanks,” he said, looking at Harry. “If this flat is too small, what do you propose we do? Blaise and I are currently sharing a flat, but it’s the same as here, two rooms and a loo.”
Hermione and Ron sat down on the sofa. Harry noticed a mischievous glint in Ron’s eye and turned to look at him. “What are you thinking, Ron?”
“Glad you asked,” Ron said, setting his mug down on the side table. “Luna recently told me about a big plot of land the Lovegood family is looking to sell. It’s in between Lovegood Tower and the Burrow, so I was thinking it would be a lovely place for a small neighborhood. We’d be near Mum and Dad and the Lovegoods, the land already has wards set up, and the only thing to pay for would be the land itself and putting up some houses, since the area is already cleared and all.”
Hermione smiled. “Oh, that’s a wonderful idea!"
“I was going to bring it up at this brunch anyway, so I could propose that we set up shop there,” Ron admitted, giving Hermione a grin that made her blush. “This was the perfect time to bring it up.”
Harry nodded, slowly putting together a plan. “Yes, that would work. You said Xeno is selling? I’ll floo call him immediately and have him send me the contract. Hermione, do you think you could help me find a good building team? We’ll have to draw out blue prints, too, of course. We’ll build one for Draco and me, then one for you and Ron... do you think the others would be interested?”
“Uh,” Hermione hesitated, surprised by the offer. “Yes, I could find you someone. I have a friend who just got a house built; I’ll see if she can give me the name of the building crew she hired.”
Harry clapped his hands together, grinning. “Brilliant! It’s settled, then.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Draco said, lowering his mug to stare at Harry. “You want to build us a house?”
Harry shrugged. “Us and a few of my friends, yeah,” he gave him a smile. “There’s no use in hoarding all of my money in some useless vault, I’ve got to do something with it. This is a good thing to spend it on.”
Ron and Hermione looked at each other and then back at Harry. “Mate, I wasn’t trying to push you into building us anything,” he said, frowning. “We wouldn’t want to ask such a big favour of you.”
Harry shook his head. “I insist. I want my friends near me, and this is a great way to do it. If you give me blue prints, I’ll pay for it,” he looked at Draco again, his eyes wide with hope. “What do you say, Draco?”
“Well, I, uh, I mean,” Draco stuttered, a million reasons going through his head about why he shouldn’t accept Harry’s offer, about why they shouldn’t move in together, but not a single one stuck. “Alright,” he said. “I guess we’re building a house.”