Work Text:
Draco frowned at the stacks of folders covering his desk, before sighing, and picking up the nearest one. Nowadays, it felt as if all he ever did was paperwork. There was always another form to fill out, or another report to write. Draco couldn't recall why taking the Lead Healer job had seemed like such a fantastic idea. Every promotion took him further and further away from where he was most useful: working on the ward, looking after patients.
Abruptly, his stomach growled, and Draco glanced toward the clock. It wasn’t any wonder he was peckish. It was two o’clock already, and he hadn’t even thought about lunch yet. Pleased to put off his form-filling for a few more minutes, Draco placed the folder back where he’d found it, opened his drawer, and took out his cheese and ham sandwich. He grimaced. The ham must have spoilt because it smelt revolting. As Draco crammed it back into his lunchbox, there was a familiar sharp knock on the door.
“Come in,” Draco answered, a small flutter of anticipation coiling in his tummy. He wasn’t disappointed. Harry poked his head around the door, his expression a cheerful smile, his hair sticking up in every direction, and his lime green Medi-Wizard robes clashing horribly with his deep green eyes.
“Everything’s quiet and calm on the ward,” Harry reported to Draco as he stepped into the office. “No incidents to report. Mr. McPherson is responding well to the Moonflower Potion and Mr. Thewlis is finally asleep. His wounds are clearing up well. We’ve got one new patient. He’s called Adam Makepeace, and a misfired spell has covered him in boils. It’s painful, but nothing that a few doses of Sprigwort Potion won’t clear up.”
Draco nodded. “Thank you Harry,” he replied, pleased that his Department – Wizard Health – was running smoothly. It was a rare day they weren’t run off their feet with one emergency after another. “That’s excellent news. Calm and quiet are the best sort of days. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Perhaps there’s something I could help you with?” Harry answered, his tone suggestive, and his eyes flashing with mischief. He took another step forward and began making his way around Draco’s desk. His gaze took in Draco’s seated form. “You’ve been stuck in here for hours, with nothing but parchments and forms to keep you company. Thought I could take your mind off them for a few minutes? You know just how quick I can be.”
Gods, but that was an extremely attractive offer. Draco had given into temptation with Harry on more than one occasion but, after the last time – when Healer Johnson had knocked on his office door whilst Harry was on his knees – Draco had sworn that it couldn’t happen again.
Forcing down his libido, Draco raised a palm to stop Harry in his tracks. “Oh I know exceptionally well,” he answered, voice hushed. “But we can’t. Not here anyway. Remember our agreement? Whilst we’re at work, we keep things strictly professional.”
Harry cast his eyes towards the half-opened door, and then back towards Draco. “Then Floo to mine after work,” he suggested, bringing his hand down so it covered Draco’s own. It was shockingly warm, and Draco felt the thrum of Harry’s powerful magic. A memory of their most recent rendezvous raced through his brain, and Draco’s restrained libido shot back to life. Already he was counting down the hours.
“My shift finishes at six,” Draco replied. “I’ll be there.”
“Brilliant,” Harry answered, before lifting Draco’s hand, and pressing a soft kiss onto his fingers.
Draco watched Harry leave his office and shut the door behind him. His stomach rumbled again but, suddenly, food was the last thing on his mind. Draco could still feel Harry’s lips against his skin, and he swore he could still smell Harry’s apple scented shampoo. A wave of sensual lust rolled down Draco’s spine, and he shivered, goosebumps rippling across his skin.
Six o’clock couldn’t come fast enough.
~
If anyone had told Draco a year and a half ago that he would be engaged in a passionate love affair with Harry Potter, he would have told them they were bonkers. Harry and he weren’t supposed to have chemistry that was off the charts. They’d been childhood enemies, for Merlin’s sake! They’d loathed the mere sight of each other.
In fact, when Head Healer Richardson had announced that Harry had left the Aurors and had taken an entry level Medi-Wizard position at St. Mungo’s, Draco had lobbied for the famous wizard to be put into a different department. He’d loathed the idea of their working together.
“It’ll be a nightmare,” Draco had said. “We’ll be at loggerheads. Potter won’t listen to a word I say. He’ll not do a thing I ask. The patients will suffer.”
But Head Healer Richardson hadn’t been impressed with Draco’s arguments. “It’s your job to make sure they don’t,” she’d snapped. “Medi-Wizard Potter will join your team. Rising above petty personal differences is part of being a manager.”
Honestly, Draco had dreaded working alongside Harry. During their first shift together he’d expected the same bloody-minded Gryffindor he’d known growing up, a wizard who always jumped into action before thinking, and who never gave a damn about consequences. He’d expected arguments and strife.
But neither arguments nor strife had happened. Instead, Harry had been friendly, hardworking, and thorough. He’d strived for the best outcomes for their patients, was willing to learn, and had proved a trustworthy colleague. It seemed like no time at all before Harry and he were sharing coffees, grabbing speedy sandwiches during rare free moments, and laughing together over ridiculous jokes.
Their first kiss had occurred after a brutal twelve-hour shift, when both Harry and he were exhausted and running on air and adrenaline. They hadn’t stopped kissing since.
Draco knew he ought to end things with Harry. Every rational, practical bone in his body told him to end it. Whilst their relationship wasn’t explicitly against St. Mungo’s regulations – plenty of his fellow Healers were married to other Healers – Draco was Harry’s direct manager. Draco was Lead Healer of Wizard Health, and Harry was one of a dozen Medi-Wizards who reported to him. At best, their relationship was inappropriate.
But every foolish, passionate fibre of Draco’s heart told him to continue their affair.
Draco had dedicated every day since he was seventeen towards his career, toward helping others, and proving he wasn’t the selfish, cowardly boy he’d been, once upon a time. Draco told himself he deserved to experience pleasure, and Harry was everything a man could desire. He was sexy, thoughtful, chivalrous, and funny. They had a wonderful time in bed, and an equally wonderful time just chilling on Harry’s settee watching Muggle movies.
When Harry was wrapped in his arms, their bodies a perfect fit for each other’s, Draco found it hard to care that Harry was his workplace subordinate. The rest of the world fell away, and they were true equals. Never in his life had Draco had a lover who had satisfied him so totally, both physically and emotionally.
Even so, neither wizard had told anyone, and they’d kept their meetings a secret. As far as their friends, family, and the other staff at St. Mungo’s knew, Harry and he were colleagues, and nothing more. Draco knew it was for the best. He was still Draco Malfoy. As hard as he might work, it was impossible to erase the Dark Mark from his arm, or the stain of his Father’s name. He’d long ago realised marriage and family weren’t on the cards for him, and he’d long ago accepted that.
All Draco could do – all he knew how to do - was keep moving forward, dedicating himself to his career. He had been honest with Harry about that since the beginning. Their affair wouldn’t last forever.
Harry was a wonderful diversion, but sooner or later, he would find a wizard who would offer him the world. Then, Draco knew, he’d be kicked to the curb. But, until that day arrived, Draco wanted to enjoy every experience with Harry he could.
~
When Draco awoke in Harry’s bed, the sheets were crumpled and messy after a night of lovemaking. Bright morning light streamed through the crack in the curtains, and, for a second, he let himself relax and be in the moment. His alarm hadn’t rung yet, and St. Mungo’s and the rest of his busy demanding life seemed a universe away. Still asleep beside him, Harry turned slightly, his expression soft and unworried, his black hair a halo across his pillow.
A small, unbidden thought dashed through Draco’s mind: if only this could be every day. Immediately Draco chased the thought away, instead filling his head with plans for the ward, for his patients, and for finally clearing the teetering piles of paperwork littering his desk. That was enough to break his good mood and, grimacing, Draco sat up, shifting his legs so that they hung from the side of the bed.
Straightaway, Draco knew something was wrong. His stomach lurched, his head swam, and he slammed a hand over his mouth. Desperate to vomit, Draco ran for the en-suite, luckily making it in time. Leaning over the bowl, Draco spluttered, embarrassed but pleased the nausea had passed.
Footsteps alerted Draco to Harry’s presence behind him, and he felt his lover’s warm, steady hand on his back, rubbing gentle circles. “Are you okay?” Harry asked. “You seemed fine last night.”
“Not sure,” Draco answered, standing slowly. His legs felt like they’d been hit with a Jelly-Legs Jinx. “I don’t feel poorly otherwise. I must have eaten something dodgy.”
Draco thought back over the previous day. There was that foul-smelling sandwich yesterday… But no. It couldn’t be that. He’d thrown that away untouched. Had it been the Chicken Alfredo Harry had made them for dinner? But Harry didn’t appear to be suffering any ill effects.
Harry wrapped his arms around Draco, his embrace protective. “If you came onto the ward complaining about sudden, acute nausea after waking up, I’d recommend you take a pregnancy test.” Harry smiled. “Think that might be a possibility?”
Draco tried to laugh away Harry’s suggestion, but the noise he produced sounded unnatural. Really, these newly qualified Medi-Wizards thought they could diagnose everything under the sun.
“Hardly,” Draco replied. He wriggled out of Harry’s arms before filling the glass that lived beside the sink. The water washed away the sour taste from his mouth and sharpened his senses. He couldn’t be pregnant. Not only was it damnably difficult for men to get pregnant without potions, but he was thirty-three, and wizard fertility dropped off a cliff after thirty. “We’ve always used protection. More likely it’s a Muggle virus, or something I’ve picked up at work.” Draco sighed, filled up the glass once more, and took another drink. “Talking of work, I really ought to go home. I want a shower, and a fresh set of clothes before I go in.”
“You could shower here,” Harry said, taking off his glasses and cleaning them on his cuff. “Borrow something of mine and get changed into fresh Healer robes in the staff changing rooms. It’d be fine.”
In lieu of an answer, Draco made his way back into Harry’s bedroom. His clothes from yesterday were thrown all over the floor. Swiftly he picked them up and pulled them on.
It simply wouldn’t do for Harry and him to step out of the St. Mungo Floo together. He might as well magic fifty-foot glowing letters proclaiming they were dating. The whole hospital would know by the end of the day.
“See you at work,” Draco said.
Picking up his wand, he Apparated back to his flat.
~
Sat at his desk, Draco glared at the small phial in his hand. The brilliant, iridescent blue colour told him everything he needed to know. He was pregnant with Harry Potter’s baby.
He was pregnant at thirty-three. Pregnant without using fertility potions. Pregnant after using contraception that was 98% effective. It made no sense but, at Draco’s insistence, Healer Johnson – sworn to secrecy - had tested him twice. She’d confirmed he was around ten weeks pregnant.
Pregnant. Draco rolled the word around his mind, trying to believe it, but even with his two positive tests Draco scarcely could. He’d resigned himself to the fact he’d never have children or a husband over a decade ago. Resigned himself to the idea the Malfoys would die out with him.
Draco had told his Mum to accept that she’d never be a grandmother. Told his friends that his career came first. He’d filled the spare room in his flat with books and medical journals. It wasn’t that Draco didn’t like children because he did. He’d spoilt Pansy’s twins rotten over the years, giving them the love and attention he’d have lavished on a child of his own.
With a sigh, Draco tried to make sense of the situation he’d found himself. He believed deeply in a wizard’s right to terminate a pregnancy, but knew, equally, that it wasn’t the right choice for him.
The thing was, going ahead with the pregnancy meant everything in Draco’s life would inevitably have to change.
Most importantly, he had to tell Harry, and sooner rather than later. This wasn’t the sort of secret one could keep from the other father of your baby.
Would Harry love their baby? That was an easy question to answer: Draco was certain Harry would be delighted he was pregnant. Harry had mentioned – mentioned more than once - how much he craved a family to call his own. Losing his parents at an early age meant family life meant a lot to him. Plus, he’d be a great dad too. Harry was a natural with the newly born babies on the Wizard Health ward. Doubtless he’d be even more amazing with a child of his own.
But, in telling Harry, their relationship would change unavoidably as well.
Harry and he weren’t boyfriends. They were colleagues. They’d never been on a date or even held hands.
Would Harry even want to make a go of things with him? That was a much trickier question to answer. Draco really wasn’t sure. It was one thing to engage in a clandestine love affair with your boss. Wanting them for your significant other was another matter entirely. Perhaps the best thing would be to co-parent as friends? The last thing Draco wanted was to pressure Harry into a relationship he didn’t want. They were going to be part of each other’s lives for an exceptionally long time.
Draco rolled the phial between his fingers. A day ago his biggest worry had been the paperwork piled on his desk. Now his thoughts were crowded, jostling on top of one another. He wasn’t sure whether he was ecstatically happy, or whether he wanted to cry. He thought it might be both.
A knock on the door interrupted his spiralling thoughts. Fast as he could, Draco shoved the phial underneath a piece of blotting paper. “Come in,” Draco said, pleased at how normal his voice sounded.
Draco decided he really must be cursed, because his visitor was Harry.
As soon as their eyes met Harry’s face creased with concern. Instinctively, Harry rushed to Draco’s side, and knelt down beside his desk. “You’re white as parchment,” Harry stated, his perceptive Medi-Wizard gaze taking in Draco’s appearance, automatically looking for clues. “Talk to me about what you’re feeling… Have you been sick again? You rushed away so quickly from mine. I’ve been worrying about you.”
“I’m feeling astonished, overwhelmed… A bit like my entire world has slipped off its axis,” Draco answered. He managed a small laugh, though there wasn’t much humour in the sound. “I think you’re a better Healer than I am. Your diagnosis this morning was bang on the money, Medi-Wizard Potter.”
Draco watched while Harry considered what he’d said. As the pieces fell into place, Harry’s expression transformed. The worry washed away, replaced by a wide, delighted grin. His cheeks blushed pink while his eyes grew as big as saucers.
“You’re pregnant,” Harry said. It wasn’t remotely a question.
Rather than answer, Draco took the phial from underneath the blotting paper. Harry was a Medi-Wizard, and he couldn’t mistake what the shimmering blue meant.
“Healer Johnson did the test for me twice,” Draco said, placing the tiny bottle into Harry’s waiting palm. “I’m keeping them,” Draco added, knowing as he said it that it was the right decision for him.
“I’ve been waiting for you to realise for ages,” Harry replied. His smile didn’t falter as he inspected the phial, looking at it from every angle. “It’s been bloody frustrating! The clues have all been there. You just didn’t see them! First you said the coffee tasted off in the canteen the other day. Then you fell asleep at eight o’clock the other evening… Not to mention your sweetie cravings! You ate half a pack of jellybeans on Friday.” Carefully, Harry placed the phial back on Draco’s desk. “I’m thrilled,” Harry concluded, and Draco could see that he was telling the truth.
Draco wasn’t quite at thrilled yet, but he knew he would be. He needed some time to adapt to this new reality. His universe had changed beyond recognition, and he was rushing to catch up. “I wish you’d told me,” Draco said.
Harry clasped Draco’s hands in his and held them tight. “I told you this morning.”
Draco huffed. “Could we talk more about this later?” he asked, gesturing towards the office door, and the busy ward beyond it. “Away from wagging ears?”
“Come to mine after work,” Harry answered. “We’ll get takeaway.” He kissed Draco’s hand before releasing his fingers, straightening up, and making his way back towards the door. “Everyone is going to be excited,” Harry added. “Just like I am.” He pulled the door closed behind him.
For a few moments, Draco stared at the spot where Harry had just stood, his heart beating a pulsing rhythm in his chest. He was going to have to tell Pansy, his Mum, all his friends, and all their colleagues. Everyone in his life would find out about his and Harry’s affair. It’d be the hottest gossip St. Mungo’s had seen in months.
Bringing up his hand, Draco placed it on his still-flat belly. The gossip would quickly pass, because gossip always did.
Draco smiled, and decided he was excited too.
~
The next few days passed in a blur. Draco spent his time accepting he was pregnant, and that his life had turned out very differently from what he had expected. Adjustments had to be made, both in Draco’s personal and professional life, and they needed to have the right outcomes, both for him and his baby.
Draco’s first adjustment had been the most pressing. How would Harry and he negotiate the new life they’d found themselves in?
But there hadn’t been any decision to be made, really. Draco beamed at the mere idea of Harry Potter, who now proudly carried the title of boyfriend. They were officially an item.
Harry had pulled a face at the idea of co-parenting as friends. He’d instantly told Draco that he’d loved him for as long as he could remember, and that he wanted them to be a proper family of three. Harry had reminded Draco that Grimmauld Place was massive, and he’d worked hard to make it into a lovely home. “Let me look after you,” he’d said. “Grimmauld’s always been too big for me, anyway. I want to wake up beside you every morning. Want to make you breakfast.”
In the end, Draco hadn’t taken much convincing. As soon as their friends and family were told about the baby, he planned to move both his belongings and himself into Harry’s Islington house. Draco kept expecting to freak out a little bit, or at least be overwhelmed, but so far, it hadn’t happened. Harry, and Grimmauld felt right, felt natural, as if they were where Draco was supposed to always have been.
Draco’s second adjustment involved the hospital. He booked a meeting with Head Healer Richardson and told her that he was pregnant by Harry. It was better to get all his cards on the table. He’d been so nervous, but in the end, his nerves hadn’t been necessary. She had been incredibly supportive and said that theirs wasn’t the first workplace romance to spark at St. Mungo’s, and definitely wouldn’t be the last.
For proprieties sake, Harry was shifted across to Healer Johnson’s team, but they were permitted to remain working on the Wizard Health ward together. Theirs was a good team, with excellent results, and nobody wanted the patients to suffer.
In retrospect, Draco knew he ought to have removed himself as Harry’s supervisor as soon as they became involved but, as Head Healer Richardson said, what was done was done. Nobody had cottoned onto the pregnancy yet, but Draco didn’t think it’d take very much longer. People were bound to wonder why Harry had suddenly moved teams. Even more likely was their colleagues wondering why Draco smiled whenever Harry entered the room.
At last the weekend had arrived, and Draco and Harry were finally in a position to tell the people they loved their big news.
Draco asked if they could tell his Mum first. She’d be over the moon; Draco was sure of it. Family was incredibly important to Narcissa Black Malfoy, and though she’d accepted Draco telling her she’d never be a grandmother with grace, Draco knew it had saddened her, especially when her friend’s children had begun to have families of their own.
As the green flames of the Floo rose, Draco tried to quell the quivering excitement inside of him.
“Darling!” Mum said, stepping out of the hearth. She and Draco embraced gently, as was their routine, and she pecked a small kiss onto his cheek. The scent of her vanilla perfume filled his nose, relaxing him, and reminding him of his childhood. “Thank you for inviting me for dinner. I was overjoyed when I received your owl. Whenever I ask you to dine, you’ve another shift at your hospital.”
Belatedly, Mum noticed Harry, standing at Draco’s side. For a tiny moment, her stance stiffened, astonished, but almost immediately she turned, a big smile on her face. “Mr. Potter,” she said, giving Harry her hand to be kissed. “It’s wonderful to meet you again. Wasn’t the Ministry Ball the last time we conversed?” Mum inclined her head. “Draco tells me all the time what a valuable member of his team you are. Wonderful with the patients and gifted at healing.”
“Draco sings everybody’s praises,” Harry answered. “You’re right. It was the Ministry Ball, three years ago. Two months before I left the Aurors and started Medi-Wizard training. Best decision of my life. And please, do call me Harry.”
Harry’s eyes flickered towards Draco, full of fondness, and Draco felt a heated blush creep up his neck. They’d planned to reveal their news slowly during the course of the afternoon, after eating, beginning with being boyfriends, continuing with moving into Grimmauld Place together, and ending by telling Mum about their baby. In retrospect, it was a plan doomed to disaster. Harry was dying to tell the world their news and was virtually vibrating with excitement. It was obvious that the words were on the tip of his tongue, and that if he were forced to hold onto them until after they’d eaten, he’d likely have an aneurysm.
Besides, his Mum wasn’t foolish. Her quick gaze was taking in their respective body language, and Harry’s daft expression. Combined with the surprise dinner invite, it was probable that Mum had worked out half of their news already. Not one to beat about the cauldron, Mum handed Harry the bottle of Elderflower cordial she had brought with her.
“Harry, then. And, if you’ll allow me the same curtesy, please call me Narcissa,” Mum answered graciously. She allowed Draco to lead her into his lounge. The three of them sat down, Harry and he on the settee, and Mum taking the single chair. “I must confess, I’m curious,” Mum added, addressing Harry. “This is the first time Draco has introduced me to one of his colleagues. Please don’t tell me he’s got you working on your days off too. I’ve told Draco so many times that he works far too hard.”
Draco felt his cheeks grow even hotter, as both Harry and his Mum looked towards him. Honestly, Harry was practically glowing, which seemed scarcely fair. He wasn’t the pregnant one.
“Don’t worry,” Harry answered. “I’m not here for work, although I absolutely agree with you. Draco does work far too hard. Hopefully, he’ll have a good reason to slow down a little over the next few months.”
All of the air seemed to leave the room at once. Harry had gone totally off-script. Across from him, Mum held herself poker-straight, her hands crossed primly, and her only trace of confusion a slight wrinkle of her forehead. If she was startled by Harry’s answer, she wasn’t about to let on.
Harry Accio’ed a glass and popped the top off the Elderflower cordial. After pouring out a glass, and chilling it with a cooling spell, Harry handed it to Mum. She took it, and sipped it gracefully, her eyes moving between Harry and Draco as she did so.
“And what good reason might that be?” Mum asked. Her gaze rested on Draco, the grey of her eyes the exact same shade as his own.
Mum was waiting for him to be honest with her, and because Draco had never been able to fib to his Mum, he knew the time had come to tell her the truth.
“Harry and I-” Draco started, before quickly pausing. His throat was as dry as ashes. Harry, gallant as always, handed him a second glass of the cordial. It was deliciously sweet and cool, and Draco drank half of it before trying again. “Harry and I aren’t just colleagues,” he explained, finding Harry’s hand, and knotting their fingers together. This was the first time he’d ever touched Harry familiarly in front of another person, and a warm wave of pleasure suffused him. In the future he’d be able to hold Harry’s hand whenever he wanted. They didn’t have to hide anymore. He took a deep breath and tried again. “Harry and I aren’t just colleagues. We’re in a relationship too. We’ve been… Well, it’s been a year now, but we’ve been keeping things secret.”
Just like Draco had predicted, his Mum was pleased. “But you’ve decided to start telling people?” she asked, her smile growing wider.
Almost giddy with relief, Draco exhaled slowly, letting go of a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Harry squeezed his hand, wordlessly telling him to continue, and to tell his Mum the rest. “There’s something else we need to tell you, Mum… In a month or so’s time I won’t be able to hide the fact I’ve got a boyfriend. Everyone will know,” Draco explained, gesturing to his tummy. “I’m pregnant. Eleven weeks gone.”
This time, Mum really was astounded. Her mouth fell open, and for a moment, she looked as if she was struggling to form words. Her cheeks flushed a brilliant pink. “You’re really sure?”
Draco couldn’t help but grin. “I’m the Lead Healer on the Wizard Health ward. It’s my job to be sure about things like this-”
“Though you didn’t realise until I told you!” Harry cut in; voice amused.
“But I’m sure now,” Draco finished, because he was. That morning, after his shower, his tummy had felt more rounded than he was used it. His bump wasn’t noticeably big, but it was there, and it was his. “We’re having a baby. You’re the first person we’ve told, Mum. You’re going to be such a marvellous Grandma.”
“I can hardly believe it,” Mum said, standing up. Draco stood to meet her, and they hugged, decorum be dammed. “I think I must be dreaming, and that I’m going to wake up at any moment.”
“Not a bit of it,” Harry said, also getting to his feet. Mum was next to give him a hug. “It’s not a dream. We’re going to raise the baby at Grimmauld together. Will you help us decorate the nursery?”
As Draco watched his boyfriend and his Mum embrace, he felt a lump in his throat, and the telltale prickle at the corner of his eye. He couldn’t help it; he started to cry happy tears. Gods, but everything was making him weepy at the moment. It was the absurd pregnancy hormones. Part of him wondered sometimes whether he might be dreaming too. He could hardly believe that this was his life.
Harry, intuitive to a fault, stepped away from Narcissa, and nodded towards the kitchen. He knew that Draco needed a moment with just his Mum. “I’m going to check the food,” he said, smiling, even though timing charms had been set and there was no chance of it burning. “You two have a minute.”
Left alone together, Mum gave Draco an affectionate, appraising glance. There must have been the trail of a tear on his cheek, because she wiped it away gently. “This is all a huge surprise for me,” she conceded. “A wonderful surprise, but a surprise nevertheless… So I can barely imagine how big a shock it has all been for you. Is this the life you want, my darling? You seemed so certain that you’d never be a father or have a family of your own.”
Draco knew that had been. But he’d never been willing to open his heart before or let himself seize the happiness he deserved. He nodded. “I’m happy,” he answered. “Terrified, but whenever I think of the future… It feels right.”
“Lunch is served,” Harry said, re-entering the room. A large tray Levitated in front of him, carrying a gorgeous roast and all the trimmings, and he carefully alighted it on the table. Harry had really gone to town on their lunch but, like he’d reminded Draco, today was a celebration. It wasn’t everyday you began telling the people you loved you were pregnant. Mum and he settled down at the table, and Harry served. Their food was as delicious as always.
As they ate, Mum, Harry, and he talked about their work, about their plans for moving in together, and how they were going to tell their friends their news.
This wasn’t the life that Draco had planned for, but he wouldn’t have swapped it for the world.