Forbidden Union

He woke slowly the next day, warm and comfortable; Carla curled up against him as if that was where she belonged. He tried to keep still, thinking she looked as if she could use the sleep, but she stirred in his arms anyway and stretched slowly, groaning as her back cracked. He felt a twinge of arousal at the feel of her body against his but he thrust it down quickly, hoping she hadn’t noticed. Even if she hadn’t been 9 months pregnant this was hardly the time, not with their new understanding so brittle and young.



“Oh! So you can still do that then?” She asked, a laugh in her voice.



“What?” He mumbled, pretending not to understand.



This time she laughed aloud. “Acting the innocent, husband? I didn’t know you still could, now you’re... one of Them.”



“A vampire? You can say it. Yes we can still... have sex.”



“Oh. Well, that’s good. Here I was thinking my sex life was over at 23.”



“I didn’t think you’d ever want to again... and I wouldn’t expect you to... never again, just because I couldn’t.” This conversation was extremely uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to being this open. Also he felt strangely shamed to realise Carla had expected to remain faithful, even if it meant never sleeping with anyone again. A vision of Blaise’s dark hand on his cock wavered before his eyes.



“Ha, could you imagine what your father would do to me if he ever found out I was unfaithful to you?” Draco had to admit she had a point.



“Well I’m not sure my father is going to have as much power over us as he would like from now on.” She looked at him quizzically, head tilted to the side. “The Count Magnis may have a few things to say on that,” he qualified.



“That... vampire. I’ve been in my room since he came, first I pretended to be unwell, and then I didn’t have to pretend. He scares me.”



“He is my grandfather, many times removed obviously. And I spoke with him last night. He isn’t scary... well I guess he is, the way he handled my father, as if he was a misbehaving child... but he is not dangerous, not to us. I think you’ll like him. He’s very dignified, very proper. I think he wants to help me.





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Draco spent the day with his wife, getting to know her, and they were both surprised to find they had much in common. Both born to families strong in their beliefs, both expected to follow traditions. Both with a sudden marriage and family forced upon them.



At dinner time Draco left to be with the rest of his family, while Carla stayed in her room to rest. Halfway through an awkward meal, which Draco and Magnis were more spectators then participants in, a scream rent the air. Almost simultaneously a house elf appeared and a rolling wave of pain hit Draco in the forehead. Instinctively Draco apparated to his wives side, before he knew it he was standing next to her, She was screaming, her eyes screwed shut against the pain. Without meaning to he sent up strong wards. He knelt beside her, holding her hand. He felt a wave against his ward and knew it was his father trying to gain entrance. Then he felt a softer pressure and his mother was allowed access where his father was denied. All of this happened outside his conscious awareness though, all of his attention was focused on the pale sweaty face of Carla. Suddenly his mother was there, holding Carla’s hand on the other side. Another scream escaped her open mouth. Then his mother leaned over her with a small vial of potion. He stopped her, his hand held hers motionless above her dark lips for a moment and their eyes met. Then an understanding passed between them and he realised that he was being silly. However much he didn’t trust his father, his mother did want the best for him. He relaxed and let her pour the potion down Carla’s throat. Almost immediately she calmed, her lashes falling closed against pale her cheeks.



“Just a mild pain potion” she answered the unasked question in his eyes. Draco nodded, trying not to look guilty, as if he’d never expected anything different.



Then the healer from St Mungo’s was there. It all happened quickly after that. Draco was asked to leave, but refused, one look at his face and she knew better then to ask again. Draco held one of Carla’s hands, while the healer held the other. She was encouraged to drink several more potions, then to push, all the while the healer whispered spells Draco had never heard before.



Then the tiny dark baby, covered in blood, slithered into the world. He was wrapped in a white sheet, and handed to Carla. Draco hovered close and looked at him. He didn’t cry. His little blue eyes seemed set on his mothers face. Draco could smell the blood, and some other indefinable scent. It made his throat ache, although he felt no hunger. Carla closed her eyes and moaned, then seemed to spasm. Draco leaned forward to take their son.

The drama continued behind him, while he, oblivious, drank in the small face of his son. The boy now had switched his attention to Draco’s face, seeming to drink in every detail. The father and son studied each other intently. Draco’s attention was broken when a high pitched cry filled the air.



He spun around and tried to process what was happening behind him. A bundle was being pressed into Carla’s arms. He stepped closer, trying to understand. His mother stepped up to him, her hands rose to rest on his shoulders, her normally calm face was filled with an emotion he’d never seen there, like excitement, a half smile curved her lips and her eyes shone.



“Twins Draco. You have a son, and a daughter! Twins!” Her voice was low but intense. Twins were extremely rare in the wizarding world, particularly in full blood families where the birth rate was so low. Draco felt he still couldn’t quite understand. Surely he would have known, someone would have said, tests had been done during the pregnancy. But the proof was before him. Two babies. He wasn’t sure just what to feel. He’d barely accepted that he was going to have a son, and now he had a daughter as well.



The night was spent in wonder. Carla; exhausted, lay asleep in the middle of the king sized bed. Draco felt he would never need to sleep again. All of his senses opened, he explored his children. They smelled of the milk they had consumed from their mother after birth, a pleasant sweet smell which spoke of life almost as clearly as blood. Also they already had their own distinct smell, something he couldn’t describe but which made him feel fiercely protective of them. His son had a full head of hair, pale blonde. It hadn’t been so noticeable plastered against his pale skin when he was born, but now it floated out from his head like a halo. He fretted for a long time, missing the warmth of his mother’s body and the comforting sound of her heartbeat. He didn’t settle till Draco held him close against his chest. The boy knew he was not the mother who had carried him through the first nine months of his existence, but he was a warm and comforting enough substitute. His daughter on the other hand was curious about the world around her. Father and daughter studied each other closely, her wide blue eyes fixed on his face in fascination. Her gaze was so pure it almost burned him. He could feel her curiosity and also her worship. She knew him, and she loved him. Completely and without hesitation or reservation. His son would take more winning over. Eventually his daughters pale eyes slid shut, jumping open a few times as if she too would like to continue this first introduction, but eventually they stayed shut, and Draco settled back in the recliner he lounged in. His son nestled against his chest and his daughter sprawled across his lap, her head resting up against his knees. Sleep crept up on him without him realising.



He woke feeling amazingly happy, if a little stiff. Even asleep his body had kept still to not wake or dislodge his sleeping children. He felt he’d slept a long time, but it was still dark, and considering it had already been closer to morning then night when he’d fallen asleep it couldn’t have been long at all. He turned to face his wife, only to find her looking back at him from the bed, a gentle smile on her face. He found himself smiling in return. There seemed to be nothing else to say. Not yet. The moment was too perfect to ruin with words.