Could You Love Me?

Author: TheSiner
Title: Could you love me?
Genre: Angst, Romance, Drama and some attempted humour :)
Pairings: Harry/Lucius; Draco/?; Severus/?(mentioned)
Word Count: ~ 150,000
Summary: HP/LM, slash, mpreg. Lucius forces Harry to marry him. Things get bad and then they get better. This is a story about two different people from different worlds trying to make it work. Complete.
Rating: For some sex, but there’s not that much of it.
Disclaimer: These characters are not my own and belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. I am not making any money.
Warnings: slash, mpreg - a boy having a baby, OOC (kind of), non-canon, not betaedited, dubious consent, A/U – it is the same old Wizarding world though. And there is angst and emotional suffering.
Setting:– after Harry’s fifth year. Lucius doesn’t get caught at the Ministry.


NINTH PART - SURPRISES

39. Harry’s Date

Harry hadn’t even thought about planning anything else than to meet his husband on the Hogsmeade weekend. Hermione and Ron who had gotten closer while Harry had been missing deserved some ‘couple time’ too. And luckily Malfoy Junior has his own plans. Luckily, because the prat insisted on tagging along wherever Harry went as if he was going to suddenly fall down the stairs or give premature birth. Mostly Draco kept his distance, but Harry could still feel when he was being watched from the unofficial Slytherin side of the Library. In addition, there were his irrational dislike towards Professor Rasputin and (what Draco thought were subtle) hints not to trust the man and to stay away from him.

Really, just because he was pregnant no one had right to treat Harry like a china doll or to order him around, he most certainly could take care of himself the same way he had for sixteen years and without a dark wizard after him, the boy didn’t really think he was in any danger

Harry knew very well what was bad for the baby and was looking out for himself. No running down the moving stairs, no alcohol (he didn’t have a taste for it anyway), no testing the potions he had brewed. Draco bloody Malfoy’s assistance was not needed. Harry almost missed those good, old times when they had hated each other.

But then maybe, maybe Harry could understand, so he tolerated Draco’s attention as long as he didn’t get too obtrusive. Asking if he could walk Harry to the restaurant, where he was going to meet Lucius in a private room, under pretence of wanting to say ‘Hello’ to his father was a reasonable request. Maybe Draco really did want to greet Lucius before he rushed off to his ‘appointment’, which Harry thought was actually some kind of secret date or something, somehow, he could tell by the expression on the blonde’s face. However, he didn’t really want to
know any details of Malfoy’s love-life.

So, after Hermione had dragged Ron in the direction of Madam Puddifoot’s, Draco walked Harry to Pigeon’s Milk where they met Lucius in the same room as previously and after exchanging some meaningful looks between them, left.

Ok, what was that about? Harry felt instant irritation. How dare they exchange secret, meaningful looks he didn’t completely understand?

“Well, tell me how you have been,” Lucius urged pulling back the chair for Harry.

The younger wizard sat down and looked at his husband doing the same. It had been less than a month, so nothing much had changed. The man looked the same. Harry had to admit that he liked what he was seeing. If someone had changed then it was Harry, who was approaching his third trimester and getting bigger with every passing day. At least he thought so some days.

“I have been perfectly fine,” Harry announced unfolding the napkin and laying it out over his lap, he was feeling a bit peckish. “Nothing much has changed in that department since I owled you the last time,” he moodily stabbed the slice of roast on the plate.

“I am glad to hear that,” Lucius simply smiled politely and that for some reason annoyed Harry as well, but then, what didn’t these days?

They continued with their meals and one sided conversation, where the older wizard spoke and asked his young husband questions, but Harry only shook his head and answered with ‘yes’ or ‘no’.

After they had finished the desert, very nice and refreshing raspberry sorbert, Lucius led Harry over to the sofa, where boy sat down besides him more tense and stiff than the blonde had ever seen the boy. He sighed not looking forward to their ‘talk’, because it could very well turn into a fight, but obviously, it was necessary.

“Harry, I see that Draco has not been misleading me,” he started.

Harry’s frowned, looking at his husband through narrowed eyes: “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That means, Draco has informed me that you have been rather… how to put it… well, Draco has implied that you have been suffering bouts of awful mood.”

“So the little bastard has been spying on me and ratting to you?” Harry growled.

“Draco is a completely legitimate child, Harry, I would know. And he is worried, is that such a crime? I think, you are being unfair,” Lucius chided gently

Harry’s cheeks reddened a bit at the mild rebuke he had been given: “He’s just so annoying. Won’t leave me alone, ever. Of course I get annoyed.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Lucius smirked and Harry’s lips quirked a bit too. “But he means well. Surely a Gryffindor should be able to appreciate someone’s good intentions?”

“Oh, shut up,” Harry scoffed. “That was so… you need to be more subtle when you try to manipulate me. Just because I am a Gryffindor doesn’t mean that you can use my supposedly noble nature against me and talk me into putting up with everything. We are not that gullible. Next you would say that Cornelius Fudge means well as well.”

“Touché. I don’t think he does,” Lucius noted bemused with the way the teenager was thinking, the boy was not stupid at all. “But let’s stay on the track here.” He looked into Harry’s green eyes and took one of his hands in his. “Why are you so tense and in such an awful mood. What is going on, Harry?”

“I am perfectly fine!” The boy protested, nervously twisting the hem of his robe in his hands.

“Oh, no, you are not fine,” Lucius persisted. “You are moody, snap at everyone sometimes without a good reason. There are a lot of people who had noticed and they want to help you, but you are not letting them.”

Harry was not going to ‘snap’ at Draco now; he was going to snap his neck. “It’s not a big deal… I can handle it,” Harry exclaimed defensively.

“But you don’t have to,” Lucius captured the boy’s hands between his palms and slid closer to Harry. “You don’t have to suffer from whatever is ailing you, especially alone. I want you to be happy and comfortable.”

Those words were so simple, but they made Harry suddenly feel so warm inside…

Harry lowered his eyes and… Lucius raised an eyebrow… blushed prettily.

“Is it something embarrassing?” He prodded. When Harry didn’t answer the older man went on: “Harry, I am not one of your friends, I am much older and I know a lot more about life and whatever it is you can tell me. Believe me that there is nothing much that could shock or embarrass me.”

The boy pursued his lips stubbornly refusing to make a sound.

“Harry, don’t be like this, now I am becoming really worried…”

“If I’ll tell you will you leave me alone! How can I not get angry when everyone is nagging me all the time! Can’t I keep anything for myself!” The cauldron finally boiled over.

“You certainly can Harry, but it is obviously not the right thing to do at the moment, because it is actually hurting you, am I not right?” Lucius inquired in somewhat fatherly fashion, well that what one got if he decided to marry a sixteen year old.

Harry groaned in frustration: “It’s just… God, it’s really, really embarrassing.”

“Try me,” the blonde man offered gently massaging the small hands that he was holding in his.

Harry was still avoiding Lucius’ eyes: “Well, I… just… I get those feelings.”

“What feelings?” The older wizard insisted.

Harry’s face turned very red.

“Harry, you are worrying me, if you won’t tell me I will not be able to stop worrying. Please don’t do this to me, you know that I care about you very much, and that means, I worry about you too,” Lucius felt a bit ridiculous whining like this, but he had decided that a bit of emotional blackmail wasn’t amiss and hoped that it was subtle enough for manipulation.

Harry looked truly mortified but resigned to his fate. “No, it’s nothing like that, I just… I feel… oh, God, I don’t really know how to tell you…”

“Tell me as it is,” the older man urged surprised hearing his own voice, he hadn’t realised that it could sound so gentle. Well, but then, he wouldn’t have thought that he would ever feel so much for anyone.

Harry sighed, he had started playing with Lucius hand, that was holding his smaller one, entwining their fingers: “I read in one of the books, that it’s kind of normal, because my body is going crazy and, but… well, I kind of… I feel… aroused… a lot, lately… and it’s kind of frustrating.”

Oh, that was somewhat unexpected. Lucius had really expected something more serious. He almost asked aloud if that was it, but apparently, Harry saw some kind of problem with feeling slightly horny.

“Harry,” he said tentatively afraid to hurt young man’s feelings even if he didn’t understand them. “There is nothing wrong with feeling that way. Even without being pregnant, Harry, you are sixteen, at your age I had the same problem even without being pregnant. I assume that there is nothing wrong with it, but if you are worried, you should discuss it with doctor Tanabe…”

Harry wrenched hands out of Lucius’ hold and turned away from his husband: “No, I, it’s, no…I couldn’t.”

The older wizard honestly failed to see what the problem was and why did the boy looked so mortified: “Why are you so upset about it, Harry?”

The boy let out one more, deeper sigh, hanging his head and closing his eyes obviously giving in to his insistent husband: “Because it happens all the time, at really bad moments. It’s so… I just feel so… dirty… like some…”

Now Lucius was really taken aback: “Why? I mean, why would you feel dirty, because of feeling a bit horny?” His voice was full of disbelief.

“I shouldn’t be thinking of such things while sitting in the class,” Harry whimpered. “It’s wrong. It’s bad. Dirty.”

The young man’s reaction to something that was so natural shocked him. He took hold of Harry’s shoulders and pulled the boy to him, very disturbed seeing tears slipping down the rosy cheeks: “Shh, Harry. Don’t. You don’t have anything to be ashamed of, you are sixteen and what you are experiencing is completely normal, sometimes annoying, but perfectly fine and healthy, it means that your body is healthy and developed the way it should. There is nothing wrong with you.”

The boy simply sniffed.

Lucius understood that probably ‘growing up’ could be confusing, but by the age of sixteen, it should not be such a major concern anymore. The man gently carded his fingers through the messy sable hair: “I wish I could convince you that there is nothing wrong about feeling the way you do, but I am afraid that I simply don’t understand. Has it never happened before? Have you never been attracted to anyone and felt aroused when thinking about that person? Didn’t you already experience it before your pregnancy?”

“I… well, kind of, but not like that. Before the bastard… before he was gone, Voldemort, I mean… I… it was impossible. I was having those terrible dreams and it was sometimes like I was living in a dream, no, a nightmare, it was very bad for the last two years or so, when he was becoming stronger. I had so many things to worry about. I didn’t think about anything like that. I never thought of anyone that way, I just couldn’t,” the boy whimpered.

“Harry, look at me,” Lucius gently ordered taking hold of the boy’s chin, lifting his head up, and not speaking until Harry opened his eyes and met his. “It is perfectly normal to have sexual thoughts and feelings.”
It was amazing how innocent and inexperienced the boy was. At least in some ways. “Do you touch yourself, Harry?” Lucius was not going to leave this, before they had everything sorted out.

Harry’s eyes were suddenly bigger than saucers.

“It helps with the kind of problem you just described,” the older wizard explained somewhat pragmatically.

Harry averted his gaze again and shook his head.

Now, Lucius was even more baffled. Something was really wrong there. Harry was obviously completely uncomfortable with his sexuality, Lucius couldn’t understand, why. They had touched and kissed, and it had been all right. Harry had obviously wanted it.

Of course Lucius had been very surprised that time, when Harry had almost pounced on him, but grateful that he had gained something from their forced separation. It had been obvious that the young wizard had acted purely on impulse to somehow express his pent-up emotions, because later he had become shy once again. However, Lucius hadn’t allowed Harry to withdraw and to deny him, what once had been freely given.
Nevertheless, obviously, the young man was very uncomfortable with everything that went beyond kisses and light touches. Why?

Why… Then it hit Lucius like a well-aimed stunner.

“Harry, we have never really discussed some issues, our wedding night for example,” he suggested gently.

Harry froze as if he had been petrified.

“You should know that I truly regret the way I treated you as I have already told you many times. I never realized how insensitive I was being. As far as I was concerned we both enjoyed it since we both reached completion… but it was not the case, am I right?”

The boy sniffed and more tears broke free.

“Harry, I am sorry, but you will have to tell me, not because of me, but because you need to tell someone and if we want to have future together we need to discuss it, do you understand?”

Harry nodded. Lucius took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the wetness off boy’s face. “You don’t mind me touching you?” The older man asked.

Harry shook his head.

“Come here, then,” Lucius opened his arms and pulled the boy in his lap with Harry’s back against his chest. “Now, tell me.”

“It was not absolutely awful. I was not hurt physically. It’s just… I had no idea what to expect, I had never… well you know… and I didn’t even know what was going to happen. Ron and others, well, they sometimes did talk about, you know what, but it was usually about girls and I didn’t really understand. And I told you, that night some of it was pleasant, but it still didn’t feel… It just felt wrong anyway,” Harry finished in a small voice, head lowered as if expecting to be berated for his openness.

It was unbelievable. Obviously no one had explained Harry ‘the birds and the bees’. But then, Hogwarts didn’t cover the topic, since almost every parent had very different idea about what their children should know and no matter what would be told the children, someone would be unhappy. He, as one of the school governors, knew very well. But Harry’s family obviously hadn’t cared if he knew what every teenage boy needed to know.

“Go on, Harry, tell me everything,” Lucius urged. “What did you feel after we consummated our marriage?”

“I felt used and dirty,” Harry admitted sounding like he didn’t have it in him to resist Lucius’ probing questions.

Lucius suddenly felt almost physically ill: “Merlin, and after that you still want me here? You allow me to touch you… I should just let you stay with the Weasleys…”

“I told you it was not that bad, physically. It was about what it meant. I was so afraid. We were different then. It is in the past. You are different now, I am different, and we are going to have a baby. You have been good to me. I don’t think you will really hurt me.”

“No, never again,” even then Lucius hadn’t wanted to hurt Harry. Not physically. And the thought that the gentle, sensitive and vulnerable being could be hurt in many other ways hadn’t really crossed his mind. He had been incredibly stupid and selfish.

Lucius had to admire Harry for having such faith in him. And on what grounds? He had noticed that the boy forgave easily. Too easily. The wizard felt something stir inside of him. He realised that he wanted to be the man Harry believed in so much. Not to disappoint his young husband.

Lucius wrapped the small body in his arms and held as tightly as he could: “There is nothing wrong with feeling aroused and nothing ‘dirty’ about sex and nothing wrong with wanting it. It is one of the most natural things in life.”
“Well, I am aware that some people in the Wizarding world have different opinions and some try to turn it into some kind of taboo, I can’t claim that I understand them. Why deny yourself something that feels good and is natural?”

“Because you can hurt someone,” Lucius actually hadn’t expected Harry’s answer.

Well, he had never thought about it from this point a lot. At least not before Harry: “I can’t argue with that, can I?” But it really wasn’t an argument in his favour. “You see, Harry, the difference between a light and a dark wizard is actually quite simple. Dark wizards are selfish and not hiding it, not ashamed of it. They look out for themselves and those who they care about, their families. They take from life what they want in every way; try to fulfil their desires, sometimes at any cost. Light wizards claim they think of greater good and live according to their morals,” Lucius couldn’t keep his attitude from showing as he said ‘morals’.

“I can’t claim that I am not biased here,” the older wizard was trying to be honest. “But I think that they are a bunch of hypocrites. Believe me I deal with the Ministry on daily basis and know very well what is going on there. They are exceptions, like Albus Dumbledore, who probably really means well, but even he is not infallible. You are a live example of that.”

“Wha…” Harry was about to protest.

“Yes, you are,” Lucius didn’t let him. “Who made you live with those awful muggles? I am not even going refer to them as to your family.”

Harry couldn’t really say anything to that. He himself sometimes wondered about that. He could understand that it had been for his protection, but couldn’t understand why no one had ever checked on him. Why no one had been bothered, when Harry had lived in a cupboard for ten years? He really tried not to think about that, not to ask those questions, fearing the answers.

“What I am trying to tell you,” Lucius continued. “Is that not that many of them are really truthfully following their ideals and even those who are still manage to hurt others in their self-righteousness. I at least never pretend to be something I am not. Sometimes those who believe they can do no wrong are even more dangerous than those who are like me. I can do a lot of wrong and I don’t always feel sorry and not always admit it. But I am aware when I am slighting someone to gain something and not denying it. That is the price sometimes.”

“But we are getting of the track here What I am trying to tell you is that those principles the so called ‘Light Wizards’ follow are not infallible as well. For example, the families like the Weasleys expect their daughters to stay untouched until their wedding, but no such restrictions apply to their sons. What do you thing of that?”

“It seems unfair,” Harry admitted.

“Yes, it does. For obvious reasons most of the wizards are against having children born out of wedlock, but that can be easily avoided, so I don’t really see why anyone should keep their children from gaining valuable experience. And complicating things that are natural and not complicated at all, making wizards and witches ashamed of their bodies, their sexualities and their desires is not something I see as necessary. The truth is that a human body requires sexual gratification as much as it needs water, food and air.”

“I realise that you have been taught different, but even good people are sometimes wrong and morals are matter of perception. You should question them. I certainly wouldn’t trust anything you have heard from your muggle relatives or Molly Weasley. I know that family is important to you, but they are very…”

“Old fashioned,” the boy supplied.

“If you say so,” Lucius didn’t understood what Harry had meant, because his and his family’s views was nothing new as well, they had been the same for centuries, but if it made sense to his young husband…

Harry’s cheeks were still quite red. The bashfulness was somewhat cute.

“Harry,” Lucius smiled. “If you think that having ‘the talk’ with your husband is too awkward you have to tell me now, I could always ask Severus or Doctor Tanabe.”

“Snape?!” Harry squealed. Lucius wanted to him to talk about those matters with Snape? Sure, the young Gryffindor had noticed that the man had been very amiable since Harry had returned to the school. At least amiable for Snape. Even his housemates had noticed and asked Harry about it. The boy had no idea why he was suddenly favoured as if he was one of the Slytherins. He couldn’t walk up to the Potions Master and ask him about it, could he? But to talk to Snape about THAT… no, certainly not. And to explain anyone his history with Lucius, no, the teenager didn’t want that.

“Better you,” he murmured. “And it’s not that I don’t know anything it’s just that…”

“There are gaps and you have some questions, don’t you?”

Harry nodded.

“Alright, then ask away,” Lucius offered. “Whatever you want. I’ll let you know that there is nothing I wouldn’t talk about and there us no way for you to offend me.”

About half an hour later, Harry’s face was flaming red, but he understood many things a lot better. And was glad that it was over. Lucius had offered his young husband to owl him a couple of books and the boy just nodded, desperate to close the topic.

For a moment Harry felt perfectly content just sitting there on the couch, leaning against Lucius’ chest. The man’s hands had made their way onto Harry’s middle and were gently caressing boy’s rounded tummy. It was so warm and comfortable and felt so good.

Harry made a humming sound which obviously expressed his pleasure and Lucius wanted nothing more than let his hands roam, steal a kiss or two and do so many other things to the boy. It was not in his nature to restrain himself, to deny himself what he wanted. Especially if it was there, right under his nose. He knew that the young wizard was hormonal and Lucius just had to approach him the right way, touch him the right way and Harry would be putty in his hands. To seduce him would be so easy…

But, no. The boy trusted him. For once in his life, Lucius was not going to betray that trust. He was going to patient. Harry had to come to him on his own. Or he had to believe that he was coming on his own.

Lucius had a feeling that if they didn’t make any progress before the little one took over their lives, it would be much harder to get anywhere with their relationship.

The approach had to be subtle, yes; Lucius would have to manipulate his young husband to a certain degree. But, as Severus never failed to remind him, one couldn’t make a potion without chopping up some liver.
40. Draco’s Secret Date

After delivering Potter to his father, which Draco considered his duty no matter if the Gryffindor liked it or not, the blonde made his way towards the Shrieking Shack. The place was certainly not somewhere… well it was his own fault. The Dragon Tamer had written him proposing to meet and Draco had carelessly replied that as long as it was somewhere secluded… and then it had been too late to owl the moron back and let him know that Malfoys didn’t have their trysts in old, deserted, dirty and on top of that HAUNTED! houses. The gall of that man! Draco was not sure why he was going at all.

Nevertheless, he found himself making some stupid excuses to his friends and instead of the Three Broomstick’ or Honeydukes’ striding towards the Shack. Oh, it was a secluded place alright; no one sane went there, so they were very unlikely to be seen.

“Gah!” Draco stopped and made the most undignified sound of frustration. He muttered a spell to make a path, wading knee-deep in snow was tiring and undignified. Then the teenager took a deep breath trying to pull himself together. The truth was that Draco was feeling nervous. He would never admit it to anyone, but… the thing was that even if the Slytherin Prince had started ‘dating’ or rather fucking around at a very young age, he had never been involved with anyone much older than himself.

Draco was too Slytherin and too Malfoy to risk someone taking control over him and as long as his company was his age there was no danger. It was impossible for any of his peers to be more experienced or smarter than he was. If Draco had been stupid and careless Pansy would have been pregnant with his first-born long ago, ready to become Mrs. Malfoy. He had a good reason to be careful. Actually, several millions of them. Galleons.

But the Dragon Tamer was not a blushing school-girl and no horny teenage boy who was not sure of his sexuality and needed a helping hand to find out (no one would have believed how many guys Draco had shagged that way even if sometimes only one time). This was something different.
However, the young wizard had decided that it was a calculated risk. The Dragon Tamer was a Gryffindor and a Weasley which meant that he was probably too honourable (a mental roll of eyes) to do anything untoward. And, Draco smirked – he couldn’t actually think of that many things he would never agree to. Well, actually he could, but just because he was very well informed. But he couldn’t really imagine a Weasley wanting to do any of them.

Therefore, it was most likely safe.

But why his belly was doing all those somersaults then?

Nevertheless it was too late to turn back without loosing his dignity, because he had already spotted The Dragon Tamer and the red-head had noticed Draco. Now the blonde suddenly remembered why he had agreed to this, despite Charlie’s age, family name and financial situation. All that gorgeous body and those blue eyes…

The man was wearing black leather trousers and a roughly knitted slaty sweater under his dark-grey coat and a pair of dragon-hide boots, which he certainly couldn’t have been able to afford if he weren’t working with the beasts. Well, not that it mattered if the older wizard had money or not, since it was not money Draco was interested in this time, it was just that the Malfoy heir was too used to sorting people into those who had money and those who didn’t.

“Hi, Draco,” Charlie Weasley greeted showing off a row of perfect, white teeth.

“Hello,” the teenager returned frowning. Using ones first name without receiving permission was most likely a Gryffindor thing. The blonde was not sure how to address his potential lover, since ‘Weasley’ reminded him of ‘the Weasel’ and that was just, eww, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready for anything less formal yet.

“So, how have you been, Draco?” The Dragon Tamer inquired with quirk of lips, which made the slytherin narrow his eyes in suspicion. Why did he feel like he was the object of amusement? However, before Draco opened his mouth to tell off the red-head, he closed it again, since he couldn’t prove anything. And he didn’t want to make a fool of himself.

“Oh, relax,” Charlie simply grinned. “There is no reason to be so nervous,” he extended hand towards the younger man. “I don’t bite. At least not on the first date.”

“Listen, you…” Draco started, fully intending to deny his nervousness, but made a mistake of putting his hand into the larger one he was offered. Next moment he was pulled into broad chest and felt the familiar sensation of side-along apparition.

“Wha…” Draco exclaimed as he was released from the embrace he had never agreed to in the same time trying to take in his surroundings. “Where are we? Where the fuck did you take me? Could have warned at least!”

“You didn’t want to stay in the Hogsmeade, right?” Draco decided that The Dragon Tamer looked way too smug.

“No,” certainly not. Draco was not sure if he wanted his father to know what he was up to, even if after marrying Potter he shouldn’t be one to talk.

“You didn’t expect me to take you into the Shrieking Shack?” The Dragon Tamer raised an eyebrow.

“Well… no…” for some reason Draco was suddenly embarrassed that he had expected exactly that.

“I hope so,” The Dragon Tamer shot Draco a look the blonde didn’t really understand. “So, shall we?” He offered his arm in a courteous manner. Draco accepted it and followed the older man. He should have complained at least three times since he had met the man les than ten minutes ago, but Draco had hardly opened his mouth. The blonde grudgingly admitted that he had been thrown off balance quite masterfully.

“We are in Edinburgh,” the red-head explained. “The muggle part, but no one will recognise us though,” at least The Dragon Tamer sounded apologetic. Good. “You know how small the Wizarding World is, don’t you?”

Draco nodded. Even he wasn’t prissy enough to whine about being forced to walk the same street as some muggles. The young pureblood had to admit that he was curious about them.

While they were walking, the younger wizard pretended to be looking around at the shop windows and buildings and the muggle cars, which he had always found fascinating, but in fact, he was glancing at the older man. Draco would be relieved to discover that the favourable impression of this Weasley had something to do with the fact that he had been about to pass out after drinking himself into stupor. It would have been terrible, if he had been attracted to someone ugly in his inebriated state.

Nope. He was still gorgeous. The red hair obviously was cut so short, because it had tendency to curl, there was the tell-tale ripples. They were really the same height, but the arm Draco was holding on was a lot thicker than his own was and certainly a lot stronger, which was damn exciting. It had been dark the first time and Draco hadn’t actually noticed that The Dragon Tamer’s skin was covered in so many tiny freckles that it looked tanned. While countless times he had let both of the younger Weasleys how disgusting he thought freckles were, they did nothing to quell his desire for this one. They made him look so exotic and different. And somehow he was sure that the rough hands would become good kind of rough as soon as they would touch his skin.

No. It did not matter if there would be fewer complications if Draco suddenly lost his interest in the man. He was very much interested. He couldn’t wait.

But when instead of a hotel the Dragon Tamer led him into a pub, Draco once again found himself annoyed that this was not going the way he had imagined or that he had imagined something different. A Malfoy was supposed to be one step ahead of everyone and he wanted to get to the good part anyway. Draco had to make an effort to keep the pout off his lips as both made their way towards a corner booth.

A waiter came along and offered them menus. Draco raised a brow as his eyes skimmed the menu. A wide range of seafood, venison and other dishes, which made his mouth water. It was al muggle and didn’t come close to real wizard-made delicacies he liked so much, but even simple dishes could be marvellous if well prepared.
Apparently the pub was fancier than it appeared, the fact that there were no prices on the menu told him that much. Well, Draco supposed he was lucky, because he doubted that a Weasley could afford to take him anywhere classy in the Wizarding World. But galleon – muggle money exchange rate favoured wizards, as an heir of considerable fortune Draco knew that. Not really good for muggle-borns, but well, he was not going to be the one to complain.

Draco ordered some grilled shrimp, salad and one of the live ciders they served.

Weasley was obviously a steak and potatoes man, Draco had already expected something of the sorts. But then, better a steak and potatoes than a fish and chips man – Draco couldn’t stand the stench.

Their drinks were served first and while the men were waiting for the food The Dragon Tamer tried to engage Draco in a conversation. At first, the blonde was reluctant, because he didn’t think that there was anything he would want to discuss with a Weasley. Some might claim that shagging someone might require higher level of intimacy than having a conversation with them, but Draco Malfoy held a different opinion.

Then The Dragon Tamer started talking about dragons and it took less than five minutes until the younger wizard was asking one question after another. He had read a lot about the magnificent magical beasts and just couldn’t loose the opportunity to compare what he knew with Charlie’s real life experience. He couldn’t help but be fascinated with everything the red-haired man was telling about the life at the preserve.

It could not be compared to the dragon shows he had seen with Lucius as a little kid.

“How are you getting along with Harry?” The Dragon Tamer asked out of blue.

“Better,” Draco smirked.

Charlie smirked back: “If that’s so, you should ask him about Norbert.”

“Norbert?” Draco raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, ask him, it’s a fun story, about Dragons,” it was obvious that the man wasn’t going to reveal anything more and was probably setting him or Potter up for something, but Draco was intrigued and made a mental note to find out who was ‘Norbert’.

They had finished eating and their drinks were almost gone when The Dragon Tamer (Finally!) asked Draco what he would like to do next. The blonde was taken aback. Wasn’t it obvious what they were supposed to do next? The dinner was a nice touch and Draco had already decided to be very kind to the second older Weasley son for that, but what the…

The confusion on young aristocrat’s place was apparent.

Charlie looked into the quicksilver eyes, sighed; there was a touch of sadness to his smile and exasperation as well.

“Merlin, Draco, you are really one of the kind. You are so proud and obviously think of yourself as of someone who is so much better than everyone else, but in the same time you expected me to drag you into the Shrieking Shack and fuck you against the wall?”

Salazar’s balls, but the man could be blunt. There were times Draco really could appreciate bluntness. Usually in bed though.

Well, Draco had kind of expected exactly that. He would have been annoyed about the Shack, but he had come to Hogsmeade with intention to shag. The Malfoy heir didn’t really see anything wrong with it, but it seemed The Dragon Tamer implied that there was. The gall of… no one, no matter how gorgeous and fascinating someone was he was not going to get away with insinuating that there was anything wrong with Draco Malfoy.

His hand was already reaching for wand, when the teenage wizard remembered that no matter how angry, he was not above the law and couldn’t hex the lout, especially in a muggle pub.

Charlie found that angry Draco Malfoy was really an endearing sight – eyes flashing, cheeks flushed… until the gorgeous blond stood up and looked like he was about to storm out. Oh shit!

Charlie swiftly slid out of his seat; put a hand on Draco’s shoulder gently pushing him down back into the seat.

“Don’t touch me Weasley,” the blonde ground out.

“None of that, alright?” The older wizard scolded. He cupped Draco’s face with his hand and gently stroke cheek with his thumb. “Is it so wrong that I want to treat you as a person, not as an object? Is it that insulting if I want to see more than your back?
And, was it so bad? Didn’t you enjoy our time together at all?”

Draco’s breathing caught, with the other man so close to him, smelling like smoke from campfire and grass and some inexpensive aftershave. So earthy and real, touching his face (those rough hands really felt incredible on his skin) and breathing hotly against his ear. What could he say? Draco was suddenly feeling so weak. Weaker than ever, wanting to… good thing that he had sat down already or Draco would have embarrassed himself by falling on his butt in most undignified manner, that weak his knees got.

Draco opened his mouth and he licked his lips and tried to think of something intelligent and nasty to say: “I… I guess it was alright.” Not really what he was aiming for, not as scathing as he had intended at all.

“Good,” the lopsided grin returned to the handsome face. “I am going to treat you with respect Draco, it’s what you deserve. And in the end you will be glad that I did, you will understand, I promise,” just barely above a whisper Charlie swore against
Draco’s lips. And then it happened. They were kissing. Passionate and hungry. Not able to get enough of each other. One tongue battling another.
Draco learned very quickly that he couldn’t dominate the kiss and the excitement that overcame him with that realisation was incomparable to anything he had ever felt. It was as if he had never been touched before. So thrilling.

It was over too soon and Draco almost whimpered wanting more, he was a little greedy boy who was used to getting everything he wanted and when he wanted it.
Draco gathered in his hand as much of the short, red hair as he could and pulled Weasley back, but his hand was pushed away, gently, but firmly.

“That is not very nice,” Charlie chided playfully, looking a bit amused.

“And where do you see anyone nice here?” Draco retorted cockily.

“If you weren’t concentrating all your attention on trying to climb into my lap you would have noticed one very nice waiter whom we are making uncomfortable right now.”

“He’s a wait-er, that kind of implies that he can wait,” Draco tried to get to the lips he craved so much, but he was pushed away again.

“Now I will pay our bill and then we will go for a walk. And you can pout as much as you want, makes you look kind of cute in that little boy in the toyshop kind of way, but doesn’t mean you will get everything you want,”

Draco had a feeling that he was in serious trouble. He was almost considering going to Severus and asking him to obliviate him, make Draco forget that he had ever even met Charlie Weasley. Almost. Gryffindors were not the only ones who had courage and he hadn’t gotten what he wanted yet. And Draco was determined to. If this was, what he kissed like… the blonde couldn’t wait to find out, what he was like in bed.

The Dragon Tamer was strange. Draco had made it perfectly clear that he was willing and it was obvious that the redhead wanted him. And it was not like the older wizard was playing hard-to-get. The Slytherin knew that game too well. And that talk about respect… Draco was no fair maiden. Why did Charlie refuse to accept that it was unnecessary?

Didn’t matter. Draco Malfoy always got what he wanted.

41. Different Worries and Draco on Mission

“Soon I am going to look like Dudley,” Harry frowned scrutinizing his reflection in a body length bathroom mirror. The boy had never cared about his appearance before, but it was simply weird to be like he was now.

Hermione sighed: “I have never met your cousin, Harry, but if what you have been telling us is true, then we will sooner see pigs fly than you will become anything like your obese cousin.”

“Actually…” Ron piped up.

“Muggle pigs, Ron. Unhexed, untransfigured muggle pigs,” the girl rolled her eyes, interrupting her boyfriend before he had a chance to tell them about some colony of winged pigs his father had valiantly caught before muggles noticed them or something like that. She did not have patience for this at the moment.

“And you, Harry, are not, I am repeating this, you are NOT fat. You are pregnant.” As a girl she knew how important it was to tell someone that they were not fat. Even if for one hundred first time. “After the baby will be born your body will return back to normal in no time, magical people have it easy, believe me. Besides you won’t even have to give birth, so it will be not so hard on you and since we are wizards, you will reoccupy very fast with help of special potions.”

“Besides,” she continued. “Pregnancy suits you. You look healthier and better than ever. Your skin looks so good and you are almost radiant. Actually I am wondering is it just pregnancy or your magic… come out of there already, Harry, we have homework to do!”

Ron shot his girlfriend a grateful look. She was certainly better with reassuring their friend and he was not the most sensitive guy in the world, so dealing with pregnant Harry just wasn’t something he was good at. He would have said something about his best friend being only temporarily fat and Harry would not speak to him for a day or two. His girlfriend was a lifesaver.

The dark-haired boy shut the bathroom door and flopped down on the bed with his back against the headboard: “Yes, I think we should get at least the Transfiguration essay out of way.”

“Oh, and review on ten most used kinds of venoms in Potions is going to write itself?” The bushy haired girl chirped.

“There is always the Sunday night?” Ron suggested hopefully.

“You won’t have enough time, Ron! And Harry can’t keep late hours!” She started loosing patience. Boys!

“Ok, ok!” Ron raised his hands in surrender.

“We should get the work done, so we can fully enjoy the extra Hogsmeade weekend. I wonder how that came about. You know, it is kind of strange to allow the students above fifth year to go to the village on Valentine’s day. Nice of course, but… well, but I guess you can expect something of the sorts of the Headmaster,” she mused.

Harry snorted.

“What?” Hermione turned towards him.

“It had nothing to do with Professor Dumbledore,” Harry said with a strange expression on his face.

“How do you know?” Ron asked curiously, chewing on his Sugar Quill.

Hermione gave him an annoyed look, honestly, who had thought of combining sweets with stationary and selling them to schoolchildren. As if they weren’t distracted from their studies enough anyway.

Harry of course never noticed such things: “It was the board of governors. They decided on the extra Hogsmeade weekend.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes: “Why? And you still haven’t answered the question. How do you know?”

The green-eyed Gryffindor looked a bit uncomfortable: “Well, Lucius is on the board of governors.” He admitted and blushed.

Hermione appeared to be thinking furiously about something, her eyes never leaving Harry who for some reason looked embarrassed. Then her lips quirked and a little smile appeared on her face: “Oh, I got it! Lucius Malfoy is on the board of governors and he is using Valentine’s Day as an excuse to make them give us an extra Hogsmeade weekend, so he could meet you.”

She looked incredibly smug to have everything figured out.

Harry’s face got even redder: “Drop it already, ‘Mione.” He whined.

“Oh, this is priceless!” The girl giggled. ”He takes abusing of authority to a new level.”

“Oh, I don’t mind this time,” Ron put in. “I can take my girlfriend out, after all, right?”

“Guys…” Harry pleaded.

“It is kind of sweet, you know,” Hermione smiled at her friend reassuringly. The thing was that they usually avoided talking about Harry’s relationship with his husband, since none of them was very comfortable with the subject.
Ron refused to think of Harry and Lucius Malfoy together at all and that they had slept together at some point, because otherwise there would be no baby. Trying to force Harry to talk about anything was pointless, that much Hermione knew. She just hoped that the boy discussed the situation at least with Professor Rasputin. She knew that sometimes it was easier to discuss certain matters with a stranger and a professional instead of your friends and family. Her parents worked in medicine after all.

“Alright, boys,” she decided to let it go. “Get out you books! We have work to do. Or there won’t be any Hogsmeade weekend for you!”

The boy groaned.

***

Draco was kind of annoyed. Without a good reason though, because Pansy was sitting on the couch, pressing her breasts against him. And what a pair of breast those were.
Rumour had it that Parkinson had the biggest breasts in Hogwarts and Draco knew firsthand that for once rumours were more than just rumours.
Sure, there was also Bulstrode, but she didn’t really count, because after seeing her face no one really cared about her other parts. Except her boyfriend. Goyle. Draco shuddered imagining what they children would look like.

Pansy’s little manicured hand was caressing his thigh in what was supposed to be enticing manner. She had very nice hands, Draco couldn’t deny it. Only they were little too perfect and that was somewhat boring, besides the boy had always hated the pink nail polish she wore and Parkinson had always had a thing for pink.

He really couldn’t stand some things about girls, they could be so annoying sometimes.

Luckily, he was bi. And luckily all the sensible red-heads knew to stay away from pink, especially male red-heads.

But then, Draco didn’t like men who acted like girls too. Too pretty, too poncy, too needy.

However, there was nothing wrong with Pansy and her advances. Many times, they had been perfectly welcomed, it was just that Draco once again was not in the mood and he had a feeling that he knew, why. And knowing and having that reason was annoying the reason out of him.

Oh, come on! He hadn’t even slept with The Dragon Tamer, he had nothing to remember besides a couple of heated kisses. But everything to imagine and dream about. He was not sure which was worse. But, yes, yes, yes, Draco had to admit that these days there was only one person on his mind. Charlie Weasley. And he was about to turn down Pansy once again, because he couldn’t muster up enough interest to fuck her, or at least to allow her to suck him off.

Draco couldn’t decide if he should try harder. If he kept turning Pansy down, she could start a rumour that there was something wrong with him. The girl could be a fucking vindictive bitch sometimes. Of course, it was not as if people were not already talking about Draco. They always did.
He was a Malfoy, after all, he was rich, a Slytherin, related to The-Boy-Who-Lived, a seeker and damn gorgeous on the top of it all. No surprise that Draco was a hot topic. And who would believe that he couldn’t get it up just because he refused Pansy? They would probably think that he had found someone better to warm his bed and would be wondering who it was.

No, Pansy had much more to loose than him. Being in Draco’s favour had only raised her status in Slytherin. Probably, that was the reason, why she was trying so hard to get him into bed. Pansy didn’t want it to look like she was out of favour.

But then there was that another thing. The fact that Draco was developing some kind of unhealthy obsession with a Weasley and it was messing up his life! And not only his sex life. For one, every time he saw red hair, Draco was looking for The Dragon Tamer. Which was often enough, since there were two another Weasleys still in Hogwarts and as he recently had noticed at least five – six other students with red hair as bright as theirs.

It was downright frustrating, since never ever in his life Draco wanted to think of sex when he was looking at Weasel (thinking about sex while looking at Weaselette was not as objectionable). And what was worst he couldn’t get rid of frustration by insulting Weasel, because that would make Potter angry and, as painful as admitting it was, he didn’t want to make the mother of his little brother upset. Besides Draco couldn’t keep an eye on him, if Potter didn’t want him around. So he was forced to behave.

And someone had to keep an eye on foolish Gryffindor. Draco especially didn’t like his close relationship with their Defence Professor. He couldn’t prove anything or even explain, but something was not right about the man and Potter refused to listen and stay away from him. Now he knew that accusing the boy of anything had been wrong. He just wasn’t the type. The Slytherin had simply vented his own anger and frustration with things that had not been Potter’s fault.

It was not Potter’s fault that The Dark Lord had attacked him, it was not his fault, that everyone was paying him so much attention, it was not boy’s fault that his father had wanted to marry him. Draco hadn’t appreciated not being in the centre of everyone’s attention and hadn’t been happy when Severus had ordered him to watch over the gryffindor in Potions class. And Draco had still felt guilty for that night, when he had just pushed the other boy and probably made him run away. Yes, there were feelings Draco didn’t do well with.

But the point was that it was not exactly Potter’s fault that he attracted trouble and Draco had suspicions that Rasputin was trouble. He was thinking about bringing up the situation with father, but since there was nothing he could really tell, besides revealing suspicions, it was probably not a good idea. Father would ask for proof – that was one scenario. The other possibility was that he would act and do something rash, considering how protective of his husband the man was. That was asking for trouble. So the question was – could Draco find the proof?

“Get off me, Pansy, I have a Transfiguration essay to write,” Draco stood up not paying attention to the pouting girl. A transfiguration essay was a good excuse anyway, since everyone knew that his marks were important to the Slytherin Prince. Moreover, most of his housemates knew that McGonagall’s class was one Draco really had to work for, because the old bitch did not like him and never made any allowances for him.

***

No one could say that Draco Malfoy was not persistent. He had unrelentingly tried to get Potter and his sidekicks in trouble or expelled for five years after all, even if without much success. Surely, that was another trait coming from his mother’s line. If Draco got something into his head, he pursued it with the same obsessiveness his aunt Bellatrix had followed The Dark Lord.
Not exactly a bad thing. Not always at least, since sheer stubbornness and holding to the thought of his innocence, of Petigrew running free out there and Harry needing him had probably helped Sirius Black to stay alive and relatively sane during the twelve years he spent incarcerated in Azkaban.

At the moment Draco had his mind set on proving that Professor Rasputin was up to something. It was not an easy task and the Slytherin had realised that he was not going to get any proof by simply watching the man whose behaviour in public was immaculate. And that just added to Draco’s suspicions. If someone was too perfect to be true, he was most likely not true. No one was that ideal.
Never loosing temper, never being unfair to a student, liked by the all of the other professors (except Snape who didn’t like anyone and was barely civil). Girls liked the good-looking, charming foreigner, but boys didn’t get jealous, because he was a cool guy. Draco Malfoy was the only one who didn’t really liked the wizard and thought that it had to be an act.

The only noticeable ‘flaw’ was Maxim Rasputin’s obvious fondness of the Gryffindor Golden Boy, which he was having hard time hiding.
Nevertheless, that could not be used as evidence, because the same could be said about two thirds of the Wizarding world. The last third’s obsession with The-Boy-Who-Lived just wasn’t fondly affectionate, but they were obsessed with him in one way or another anyway. Draco at least had a good reason to keep an eye on the guileless Gryffindor. The boy was carrying his little brother after all.

And Maxim Rasputin was going down even if it was the last thing he did in his life.

Draco wished he had an Invisibility Cloak, but those were so rare that even his father hadn’t been able to get his hands on one, that meant something, because Lucius always got everything he wanted. A pity, something like that would be handy for sneaking into one’s professor’s office. Or at least some Notice-Me-Not potion, but he didn’t have time to try obtaining it, so the Slytherin had to rely on his sneakiness alone.

He had decided that the best time to search Rasputin’s office would be during the lunch. The DADA professor, being such an exemplary member of the faculty, (Draco sneered at that) never missed that meal and the office would most likely be left unlocked, because the classes continued in the afternoon. Honestly, to go pillaging in the middle of night was so cliché and not even a Slytherin could think of any good excuse in case he was caught outside his tower after the curfew.

Draco’s assumption was correct, the door was left open. Not even a locking charm. Someone was pretty sure that he had nothing to hide. The teenage wizard scoffed. No one was perfect. He had been in the DADA professor’s office only when Umbridge had had the post. He was still seeing the décor in nightmares sometimes. Now, Rasputin had certainly better taste. Everyone had better taste. Even Dumbledore with his garish gowns.

Draco had promised to himself that the first thing he was going to do after becoming the Minister of Magic would be getting rid of Umbridge. Somehow he was sure that until that time the toad-woman would have recovered from the Centaur incident and back in some office or another. Little, ugly animals were very resilient after all.

The DADA office was an example of traditional Wizarding interior; it had that tatty homey look one could very often see at the low-class establishments and homes. There were strange candlesticks, antique chairs with crooked legs, covered with chintz and velvet fabrics (none of them matching), frayed books, old quills that had been obviously kept as decorative elements, but really wasn’t much to look at. The colour scheme? Browns and greys and dull oranges. And of course – knickknacks.

There were some foe-glasses, sneakoscopes, some pretty useless amulets, a collection of animated dark-creature figurines, many strange mirrors that most certainly could ward off all kind of dark creatures and denounce deceit, NOT, and other trinkets of almost no value.
There was also a cauldron lying on one of the shelves, which probably meant that Rasputin thought he could make potions. Scrubbed perfectly clean. No way to tell what poison had been brewed in it.
Draco found nothing but the essays and some more quills in the drawers.

But what probably mattered more was what he didn’t find. There were no family photographs, no letters from friends or associates, no journal on the table. Not even a stash of professor’s favourite sweet (whatever it was). It was all perfectly impersonal.

For Draco it just meant that there was nothing Rasputin wouldn’t want to leave behind if he was to leave suddenly. And that still didn’t prove anything. Those were just assumptions. Damn, it!

He had to find something to go to father with. Or to Severus. Draco wouldn’t dare to talk about hi suspicions without offering some solid proof. After he had tried to convince them of the house elf conspiracy when he had been ten (and some other schemes the Malfoy heir believed he had discovered) they took everything that followed the word ‘conspiracy’ with a grain of salt, when it was coming from Draco’s mouth.

Alright. He had to concentrate.

Draco was running out of time, the lunch was going to be over shortly and all he had was a grumbling stomach. Then his eyes stopped on the fireplace. Surely, Rasputin wouldn’t be that stupid… but it was worth a try, wasn’t it?

Draco pointed his wand at the cinder and whispered the incantation: “Restitutio in integrum papyrus agnis!”

It was a useful little charm, good for spying on people who didn’t know proper spells to destroy their documentation and simply tossed everything in the fireplace. On of the first things the Malfoy heir had been taught. To take care with things he wanted to destroy. Make sure they could not be restored.

Draco almost squealed in delight. Apparently, Rasputin lacked finesse after all. There wasn’t much. Just a scrap of parchment, probably everything else had burned, magic wasn’t all-powerful after all. But it could be enough.

The young wizard pocketed his finding. It was time to get out of there. He would expect the evidence later. He had Ancient Runes now and later detention with McGonagall, the bitch had caught him ‘attacking’ a fourth year.

‘Attacking’. Ha! If he had wanted to attack someone, Draco had given said person more than tongue that reached one’s knees. Besides it had been a punishment and a very appropriate punishment, since the girl, Romilda Vane, had said some very nasty things about Potter and Draco’s little brother, the petty jealous bitch.
However, Draco Malfoy was above explaining himself to the head of Gryffindor. He had proudly accepted the detention.

And tomorrow… he was not going to have much time tomorrow as well, because Draco was once again meeting Charlie Weasley. It would be a bloody relief to get away from the adolescents on Valentine’s Day. The school would become a madhouse.

But surely Rasputin could wait one more day. Draco already felt like he had done too much for Potter anyway. Not that anyone was appreciated the sacrifices he was making anyway.


***

Harry groaned as he woke up. Not again… he didn’t care how many times Doctor Tanabe and Hermione told him that he was having it easy. The pregnancy that is. Some days he just hated being pregnant. The boy didn’t really like to think that way, because it made him feel guilty, but he was a boy and only sixteen.

And it was especially annoying to wake up in the morning feeling all hot and bothered. Thanks God, he had a private room and a bathroom to himself. Lately Harry was having very embarrassing dreams. They were so upsetting, because it was evidently his own imagination that came up with those things. Some dreams were featuring Lucius. A lot. Harry was not sure he would be able to look his husband into eye when they met. Which was in about an hour by the way.

Of course partially it was Lucius’ fault, because he had kept the promise and had sent Harry some books that were very informative. Way too informative for boy’s comfort. There were four of them and all on sexuality and sex. Two of them were on sexuality in the Wizarding World in general, the other two… well, they were very practically oriented, with a lot of tips and pictures, moving wizarding pictures!

Was Lucius hinting at something, or really just supplying him with information. And how would Harry feel if he was hinting. Was he ready to take their relationship further? They had kissed a lot. That had happened so suddenly and naturally, but to do something more… was Harry really ready? His body certainly was. But how could he be sure if Lucius even wanted him when the boy was like this? He was six full months pregnant and the baby bump… well, it wasn’t just a little bump anymore. more like a huge lump that always got in the way.

Harry wasn’t sure if the fact that one of the books touched the subject of having intercourse while being pregnant and insisted that it was perfectly fine and natural, was a coincidence.

But the books had more than surprised him. Apparently wizards had some strange views. For example one of the books was suggesting that young witches and wizards should freely explore their bodies with friends of the same gender and age. They also advised on what species were compatible with wizards and witches and which weren’t. Some things Harry really hadn’t wanted to know.

The boy sighed when he opened the wardrobe. He definitely wasn’t short on clothes these days, besides everything was nice and fitting. That was the problem. When he had only a couple of nice things it was not hard to choose what to wear. Casual or fancy? He had no idea what Lucius had planned for their weekend; the damned Slytherin had been very secretive.

‘Make sure, you are warm and comfortable…’ was all he had written.

In the end, he went with dark green corduroys and a dark brown sweater, which was hopefully slimming under a cloak that was charmed to keep the wearer from feeling too warm or cold. The former poor orphan had to admit that he had gotten used to all the fancy clothes the Malfoy money could buy. Did it make him shallow?

He didn’t have time to contemplate that at the moment.

Harry brushed his hair that had become much easier to tame since he had let it to grow out a bit and then Chirpy popped up with breakfast and his daily prenatal vitamins and whatever other potions he was on and then Harry was ready to go. He didn’t have breakfast in the Great Hall, because Lucius had insisted that they leave early and eating in the room saved time.

The young wizard was getting truly curious, because apparently his husband had asked the Headmaster permission to pick up Harry by the floo from his office. That meant they were going somewhere further than Hogsmeade. Not that he minded.

On his way to the Headmasters office, Harry was accosted by two cupids who insisted that he sent a singing Valentine to his love. The teenager was not sure if his husband would appreciate that. But it would be interesting to see his reaction.

Honestly, the school went absolutely crazy every Valentine’s day.

“Harry, my boy, how are you today,” Albus Dumbledore greeted his favourite Gryffindor as the boy entered his office.

“Thank you, I am fine,” Harry blinked. The Headmaster’s office was… definitely decorated according to the spirit of St. Valentine’s Day. Winged hearts of all sizes were fluttering around the room and the shelves were adorned with red and pink banners and strings of hearts were hanging from the portraits. Well Phineas Black didn’t look very happy. The sour look on his face was quite funny.

“A chocolate heart, Harry?” Headmaster Dumbledore offered.

Harry nodded and greedily reached for one of the huge candies. He didn’t turn down sweets very often these days. Actually, he was not allowed to eat too much snacks, but one or two were not going to hurt.

“Mmm,” the older wizard hummed. “Those are delightful, my dear boy. Simply delightful. There is a love poem inside the wrapper.”

Harry stuffed the chocolate in his mouth and looked at the shiny paper. Indeed there was a short poem.

“It is a common notion
Love perks you up more
Than pepper-up potion,” Harry read aloud.

The Headmaster nodded smiling aproovingly.

“Oh, how lucky we are that you picked that one. If Severus had gotten it... well, Potions is a rather sensitive topic for him, not to be trifled with,”

Harry snorted. He didn’t really believe that Snape would ever even touch a heart-shaped candy in a pink wrapper.

“So, Harry, it seems that married life is treating you well,” the pleasant smile was still on the Headmaster’s face, but Harry knew very well, that he was being asked a serious question. Dumbledore was concerned, maybe not overly, but he still wanted to make sure that his little Hero was fine.

“I am alright,” Harry was.

“I still feel like I haven’t done enough for you,” Albus Dumbedore admitted without the merry twinkle in his eerie light blue eyes.

Harry was not sure what to say to that, there had been times when he had thought the same, but… well, nothing was black and white, right? “I guess you are not omnipotent after all,” he finally said.

Dumbledore chuckled, the twinkle returning.

“Honestly, Headmaster,” Harry felt as if he really had to assure the old wizard. “Lucius is not that bad. I am not saying that he didn’t do me any wrong, but he is trying to make up it to me. Like really trying. And then there is the baby... I...” he was uncomfortable discussing this with his mentor. “Is it that wrong if I want to give him a chance? To forgive him?”

Albus Dumbledore’s smile widened: “Harry, what you want is all that matters, my dear child. I have lived for a very long time, Harry, I have made many mistakes and asked for forgiveness many times. I had been lucky to be forgiven. From that, I have learned to forgive myself. I have had a chance to forgive many people many times and given them plenty of second chances. I have never regretted being able to find forgiveness in my heart.”

“Thank you Headmaster! Thank you...” Harry’s heart was so full of gratefulness. Dumbledore’s reassurances still meant a world to him.

“Have another chocolate, my boy,” with a wave of hand, the old wizard levitated the bowl towards the teenager who eagerly picked up another candy.

Harry had had his third chocolate and had read the third cheesy poem by the time the flames in the fireplace flared up green and Lucius Malfoy stepped into the Headmaster’s office wearing the same haughty, aloof expression as usually when he was in public.

“Headmaster. Harry,” he greeted wit a formal bow.

Albus and Harry exchanges amused glances.

Lucius narrowed his eyes. It was a disturbing thought, but for a moment, those two looked so similar in some ways, sitting there and being amused about something he didn’t really understood.

“Have a nice Valentine, Headmaster,” Harry bid sliding out of the cushy armchair.

“You too Harry, you too,” the man smiled and fished a lemon drop out of his robes. Chocolate hearts were good and appropriate today, but lemon drops were still his favourite. Besides, he was saving the chocolate hearts for Severus.

The old wizard was feeling much better after talking to Harry. He had backed up Remus and the Weasleys when they had tried to get the poor boy away from Lucius. And he had been surprised when it had become obvious that Harry didn’t want to leave his husband, but he had not been himself at all. His desperate wish to cling to Lucius hadn’t been healthy.

Now, for the first time since Harry had been forced to comfort Voldemort, Albus saw Harry, the real Harry. And he was not going to intervene anymore, since he really had no right to judge Harry’s decisions.

One thing he still believed in that time would put many things back into their places.

TBC

***

A/N: Thanks for reviews, but, sorry no responses. Read all of them as always and appreciated greatly, but didn’t have time to answer you.

Some trouble is brewing! Mhuaa!

Glossary

Fish and chips - those who are not British may not know this dish. You take a piece of fish, dip it in the ‘fish batter’ and then boil it in oil. And I have heard that they used to wrap it in a newspaper, not anymore of course. Probably the most traditional of British dishes, holds certain sentimental value to many Brits, I guess.
Please don’t take offence, but I think that no one who likes fine food should eat anything boiled in oil, because it’s never ever as fresh and clean as it should be, no matter what they say, so Draco’s character probably wouldn’t and you won’t catch him in a fast food restaurant.

Restitutio in integrum papyrus agnis - Restitutio in integrum – means to return in previous state or something like that, papyrus stand for parchment, agnis – for fire. I really made it up.

Unanswered questions

I wanted to explain about the moment in the office when Harry and the Headmaster are both amused about something. Well they are amused about Lucius’ desperate need to act cold almighty and so on in the public.

Dumbledore – a very controversial character. Some of you are probably annoyed that Harry still likes him so much in spite of many things. Well, I claim that the way Dumbledore appears in my story (he’s not always there) and his relationship with Harry is very canon. I didn’t want to criticize him, just because I want to hit him sometimes. Sorry, not that kind of writer.


Persons

Romilda Vane – a Gryffindor student two years below Harry. The one who tried to slip Harry love potion. Thought it was appropriate to include her. :P

Time table

Middle February – Harry is a bit over six months pregnant.
13th of February – Draco breaks into Rasputin’s office.
14th of February – Harry goes out with Lucius.