A Heart So Ravenous (Sequel to A Love So Belated)
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
44
Views:
36,877
Reviews:
326
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
44
Views:
36,877
Reviews:
326
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 34: Still Life
Chapter Number/Total: 34/44
Chapter Title: Still Life
Words: 3438 Words
Harry wrapped Draco securely in a blanket before the odd group left for the hospital. He held Draco's limp body in his arms, his blond head against Harry's shoulder. Narcissa held one little baby boy, and Healer Sharpner held the other. Ron followed as well, sticking close to Harry as if it were his duty.
People didn't just stare when they arrived, they gawked. At the desk, there was a queue of those having suffered strange accidents and illnesses, but Harry passed all of them, and they were too busy watching with wide eyes to protest or say anything about it.
The witch at the desk stared with wide eyes as well, and Harry explained, as best as he could right at that moment, what had happened. Sharpner helped him, and medical staff was sent down to take Draco.
Harry was thinking well enough at that point to ask Narcissa to go with Sharpner and the twins. He could not, nor would he leave Draco. He accompanied the Mediwitches and wizards to a hospital room, and refused to leave as they checked his lover's vital signs. Ron remained outside the door, sitting in the hall, waiting.
That was really all there was to do. Wait.
They asked Harry to stand out of the way while they worked on Draco. They had got a detailed medical history from Sharpner before she'd left. Several of the Healers had even seemed to doubt her, especially with the only remaining evidence being two infants. Finally, an elderly wizard in Healer's robes came and sat down in a chair facing Harry. "Mr. Potter," he said, holding out his hand. "I am Healer Roderick. I know this has been a long and difficult day for you."
You don't know the half of it, Harry thought, but he nodded and shook the man's hand. His own hands had been cleaned earlier, but there was still dried blood beneath the fingernails.
"I have known Healer Sharpner for over fifty years," Roderick continued. "If it had been anyone less reliable than her, I doubt that I would have believed what I have heard today. What your ... young man ... has done is actually stunning, both for sheer brilliance and absolute stupidity."
Harry frowned at that, but didn't disagree. "Will he be all right?" he asked.
"His body is responding to treatment. Blood levels are better. But we can't know if it is enough," the Healer explained. "I know Healer Sharpner explained this to you."
Harry looked up hopefully at the words, and then looked down again when the old man had finished. "Yes," he said quietly. "And you'll know if it's ... serious ... in a day or two?"
"It's very serious and it isn't my nature to plant false hopes. There is a very high probability that Mr Malfoy will not regain consciousness. Even if he does regain it, he may have suffered such a catastrophic injury to his brain that he might no longer be the person you knew," Roderick continued, looking very sad.
Harry stared at the man, eyes unbelieving. "No," he whispered. "No, you're lying to me."
"I wish I were," Roderick said with a sigh. "If it were anyone but you, I would recommend you go home, take care of your children, and get on with your life."
Harry's hands began shaking again and he ran them through his hair and over his face. He probably looked like he'd gone crazy. Sharpner had said Draco might not wake up. She had not said that if he did, that he wouldn't be the same. He dropped his elbows to his knees and buried his face in his hands. "Why do you say that?" he asked finally, quietly.
"Because blood carries oxygen to the brain. Mr Malfoy's blood loss was severe enough that his brain may have suffered for it," Roderick explained gently, in the voice of a man who had said this to patients before but still didn't like it.
Harry looked up suddenly, eyes burning with a fierceness. "But there is a chance he could be fine, right?" he demanded. "There's a chance?"
Roderick shrugged. "Normally, I wouldn't bet on it. But then again, I wouldn't have thought that a boy could defeat Voldemort. Your life story seems filled with the impossible. I am an old wizard who has seen more tragedies than I care to name. I would love to see Mr Malfoy beat those odds."
Harry took in a shaky breath. "He will," he said, hands clenched into fists. "I know he will."
Roderick stood up. "My staff will have monitoring spells on him and we will let you know if anything changes. If you want to sit with him, you can. Some people believe that people in a coma can hear, or at least feel those they love. I don't know if it's true, but it might bring you comfort to be with him."
Harry closed his eyes for a moment. Hearing the word 'coma' was scary. Draco was in a coma. Whether it lasted for hours or days, it was terrifying. He nodded, unable to make his voice work again yet.
Healer Roderick patted his shoulder and then turned and left the room.
***
Harry sat next to Draco's bed. He'd been holding his lover's hand for what felt like a very long time. While it was heartening to see that Draco’s colour and warmth had returned, his complete stillness was terrifying. He looked to be asleep. He was breathing evenly, but he didn’t so much as move a muscle. His hand was motionless in Harry’s, his body lying straight on the bed, unnatural. Harry was almost tempted to shift him around, to make him look more normal, but he only sat there, staring and mostly ignoring the Healers around them.
It was impossible not to think, though Harry wished he didn’t have to. As much as he tried to keep it out of his head, the images and words flooded his mind. What if Draco didn’t wake up? What if he remained in this state for the rest of his life? Harry couldn’t bear to think about it, but even worse was what Healer Roderick had told him. What if Draco did wake up, and what if he had … problems? It was almost more terrible to think of this than it was to think of Draco dead. Harry didn’t know what he would do. He didn’t know what Draco would want him to do.
Harry read Draco’s letter several times over, and found he couldn’t even do it without beginning to cry. He was angry with Draco. How could he have been so stupid? How could he think he could deliver those two babies all by himself with Kreacher? Harry wished he could hit him, strangely enough, and it helped to feel angry with Draco. It helped to make it feel like he was going to come back and be fine, that he would be able to get a punch in. But Harry still felt helpless. He was a father now. They were fathers. Their sons were somewhere in the hospital with their grandmother. Their sons. Caelum and Corvus were there. It still didn’t feel real. Maybe because he hadn’t truly seen them yet. He’d only held each of them briefly, and he’d been so afraid for Draco then that he hadn’t been able to take it in. And right then, he suddenly felt a burning need to have his sons where he could see them. He wanted them in his arms, with their parents. Merlin, how long had he even been sitting there? Not knowing exactly where Corvus and Caelum were? What would Draco say to that?
He stood up from his chair, laying Draco’s hand gently on the bed. He started for the door, intending to find someone to tell him where their babies were, but he didn’t have to go far.
Just as he reached the hallway, Narcissa came around the corner a few feet away, her arms full of two little bundles. Harry swallowed, wondering if he could do this without Draco, and waited for Narcissa to reach him.
Her face was still tear-streaked, and there was even a tiny smear of blood still on her temple, where she must have missed when the medical staff had given them towels to clean up. But there was also a small, sad smile on her lips. She stopped in front of Harry, and lifted the boys up a little. “Look,” she said in a quiet, gentle voice. “Here’s your daddy.” Harry trembled, looking down into little sleeping faces.
“Come on back in, Harry,” Narcissa told him. “You can get a better look if you sit down.”
He nodded, allowing her to walk past him into the room, and then followed. She stood beside the chair he had been sitting in, taking steady breaths, and when Harry had taken the seat again, she gently handed him the two tiny infants.
Their eyes were closed, but they made odd little faces in their sleep, and squirmed around. Their skin was slightly wrinkled, like it was too big for them, but they were the most beautiful and amazing things he had ever seen. He stared down at both of them, hardly wanting to take his eyes away, but he did for only a short moment. “Narcissa?” he asked, looking up at her.
She had taken a seat near him on Draco’s bed. Her son’s hand was in hers, and she was staring at his face, expression unreadable. She slowly turned her head to Harry. “Yes?”
“Can you help me?” he said. “I can’t really … touch either of them while holding them both.”
“Yes, of course,” she said quietly, and reached for the nearest baby.
Harry scooted his chair right up as close as he could get to her, wanting to be able to touch both boys. He felt a pang at the thought that Draco would have been doing this with him.
The boys were both wearing small blue hats, and Harry reached to pull the one off the infant in his arms. He was met with a shock of white-blond hair. It was thin, and a little sparse, but definitely Draco’s colour. Harry felt his eyes sting. He moved his hand to the other baby, and pulled his hat off as well. Black hair. A lot of it, and sticking up all over the place. The black-haired baby made a small, grunting sound of annoyance and Harry smiled at him.
“Which one is which?” Narcissa asked, smoothing down the wild strands of the child in her arms.
Harry thought for a moment, and remembered the meanings of the names. “Caelum, the sculptor's chisel,” he said, touching the face of the blond little boy he was holding. He was so soft. “And Corvus, dark-haired, the crow,” he said, touching the other.
Narcissa smiled gently. “Yes,” she said. “I thought so.”
Harry then proceeded to unwrap Corvus and Caelum, wanting to see them. They each squirmed again as the cooler air met their skin, and Corvus made another grunting noise. They had surprisingly long bodies, though their little, skinny legs were bent up. They moved around twitchily, and rubbed at their faces, and Harry felt a warmth looking at them, still hardly able to believe they were his. “They’re perfect,” he whispered, touching fingers and toes on each of them. “Completely perfect.”
“Yes,” Narcissa agreed. “They are.” And she looked at Draco again, the pain in her eyes evident.
Harry looked at him too, and his heart clenched again. He held his arm out to take Corvus again and then stood with the twins. He kissed their hair softly, and then laid Caelum against Draco’s right arm. Against his left he laid Corvus. He stood looking at them, and even with Draco lying still, it looked right.
He shook and then bent to lay a gentle kiss to Draco’s unresponsive lips, resting their foreheads together. “You’ll come back,” he whispered, and a tear slid from his eye to splash against Draco’s skin.
***
Harry found that once Corvus and Caelum were in his sight, once he had truly got a chance to look at them, to really take in that he was their dad, he couldn’t let them go again. Though they had been born two months early, they had been declared healthy – with the help of being fed very often with a mix of their formula and gentle potions – and thus allowed to stay in the room with Harry and Draco. He could hardly put them down.
When they opened their eyes, it was wondrous, every small burbling noise they made was perfect, and the strong kicks of their legs were very reassuring. Upon closer inspection, Harry saw that Corvus definitely had Draco’s nose, and that Caelum sported his own narrow face. He had tried to lay one each in the two cots that had been brought in, but they screamed. Narcissa smiled as she pulled her wand to join the two cots into one, and laid the boys inside it so they could sleep together. Merlin, they were so beautiful, Harry’s heart ached, but it was all bittersweet as Draco lay silent in that bed next to them.
Narcissa, though she kept glancing at Draco and touching him, seemed nearly as taken with the boys as Harry. If Harry wasn’t holding both of them, she had one, and they were both as awestruck as they could be when they got to feed the boys.
After hours had passed, things had finally begun to settle down. Harry knew Draco would wake up. He tried to convince himself of it. Their children were healthy and gorgeous, and Draco would wake up to see them. He would. He had to believe that.
He sat holding Corvus as the baby looked up at him with green eyes that were a little cloudy. Both boys had Harry’s eyes. He smiled down at him, still close to Draco, and took Draco’s hand to let Corvus hold a finger, like he had been doing with both babies all day. He remembered Roderick’s words. Perhaps Draco could feel them. And even if he couldn’t, it was a comfort, and seemed to be a comfort to the boys as well. Roderick had said that, too.
Narcissa and Harry both looked up as a Mediwitch entered, but their attention immediately returned to the babies. Healers and medical staff had been coming in and out since they’d got there to check on Draco and the boys, so they didn’t pay her any attention, but this witch addressed Harry.
“Mr Potter?” she said.
Harry looked up again.
“You do know, don't you, that there are a great lot of people down in the waiting room for you?”
Harry frowned, puzzled. “There are?”
“Yes,” the witch answered. “Quite a lot of ginger hair.”
Harry’s eyes widened. He had completely and totally forgotten about Ron. Of course he would have contacted his family. “Weasleys?” he asked.
“Yes, that’s it,” she said.
“How long have they been there?”
“Well, a few hours, I suppose,” she answered. “Will you be down to see them? Or shall I let them know to come another time? Visiting hours are nearly over.”
Harry frowned again and turned his head to look over at Draco. He did know that his presence wasn’t doing anything to help. He knew. But it didn’t stop the perhaps-irrational feelings inside him of not wanting to let Draco out of his sight. “I’m not leaving him,” he said.
The Mediwitch looked at him with sad eyes. “I’ll let them know."
“Harry,” said Narcissa quietly. “You can go. I’ll be here with him.”
Harry shook his head, looking at Draco’s face. “I’m not leaving him,” he said again.
“Well,” said the Mediwitch. “We could perhaps set it up so that a few people can come in at a time. If you want to see them.”
Harry frowned yet again. If Draco were awake, it might be different. He could protest anyone seeing him, but he wasn’t able in his current state. “I … don’t know if I want anyone to see him,” he said quietly. “He wouldn’t want to be stared at.”
“There are bed curtains if you would like to use them.”
Harry looked up to see that she was right. “I … suppose that would work,” he said.
She nodded. “You would like to see them then?”
Harry took a moment before he nodded as well.
“All right then,” she said. “I’ll just get these closed and I’ll go and fetch your guests.” She pulled her wand and spelled the curtains slowly shut. Harry found he hardly could stand even that. She left then.
Narcissa stood from her chair and walked over with Caelum. “Here,” she said. “So they can see you with them.” She tucked the tiny boy into Harry’s right arm.
After a few minutes of waiting, there was a hesitant knock on the door frame, and Harry looked up to see Hermione standing there.
He managed to give her a small smile. “Come on,” he said.
She stepped inside the room, and Ron, who was behind her, did as well. Mrs Weasley was with them, too. Their eyes flicked to the curtains around the bed, but none of them asked.
“Oh, my goodness, Harry,” Hermione said in a hushed voice as she approached him and the twins. Harry could tell that she had been crying, and one look at Mrs Weasley said she had been, too. “Oh, my goodness,” Hermione repeated. “They’re … beautiful.”
He smiled down into his sons’ faces. “Yes,” he whispered.
She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, bending down to look at the babies.
“Oh, Harry,” said Mrs Weasley tearfully. “They really are. Everyone has been waiting to see them, and, oh, they’re gorgeous.”
Ron sidled up next to him and put a firm hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly.
Harry looked up at him and tried to give him a smile, since a verbal response would have been the word "no". The smile was probably more like a grimace, though.
Ron gave a few small nods, squeezing his shoulder.
“Is this one Corvus?” Hermione asked, gently touching the dark-haired head.
“Yes,” Harry answered.
“I thought so,” she said. “Because of the hair. Corvus and Caelum.” She touched both their heads.
“You have beautiful grandchildren,” Mrs Weasley said to Narcissa, dabbing at her eyes with a cloth she had pulled from somewhere.
Narcissa looked at Mrs Weasley like she thought she was strange, but then smiled. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
“You can hold them if you like,” said Harry.
“Oh,” said Hermione. “Well, I wouldn’t want – Well, all right.”
Harry held his arm out to her, and she reached and took Caelum. Ron pulled a chair over from the side for her.
“Mrs Weasley?” Harry asked, looking from her to Corvus.
She smiled. “Yes, of course I’d love to hold him,” she said.
Harry handed the baby over and Ron Conjured a chair for his mother as well.
“They’re simply precious,” Mrs Weasley said.
“So tiny,” said Hermione.
“They’re two months early,” said Harry. “And they’re a little smaller for being twins.”
Eyes shifted to the curtained bed again.
“Harry …” said Hermione, looking up from Caelum. “What …?”
Harry clenched his hand on his chair, looking down.
Hermione winced and looked away again.
Harry let everyone sit in silence for a few moments, trying to swallow past the lump in his throat. He had to repeat it now. He had to tell other people what was wrong. No, he thought. Draco’s going to wake up, so this is fine. He looked up once more. “The Healers say …” he began in a voice that trembled only slightly, “that … Draco might not wake up.”
Their eyes widened and Hermione’s mouth fell open. “There’s nothing they can do?” she asked.
Harry shook his head. “Only wait,” he said.
“Oh, Harry,” Mrs Weasley whispered.
“But he will,” Harry said firmly. “Don’t doubt it. I know him. He’ll wake up.”
Hermione’s eyes filled with tears.
Harry took deep breaths to keep from doing the same and Ron's hand moved to his shoulders again. “He will, mate,” he said. “And we’re all here for you until he does. Us and those kids.”
Harry continued to try and take calming breaths. He nodded to what Ron said.
Ron nodded too, giving Harry a firm, comforting shake.
Chapter Title: Still Life
Words: 3438 Words
Harry wrapped Draco securely in a blanket before the odd group left for the hospital. He held Draco's limp body in his arms, his blond head against Harry's shoulder. Narcissa held one little baby boy, and Healer Sharpner held the other. Ron followed as well, sticking close to Harry as if it were his duty.
People didn't just stare when they arrived, they gawked. At the desk, there was a queue of those having suffered strange accidents and illnesses, but Harry passed all of them, and they were too busy watching with wide eyes to protest or say anything about it.
The witch at the desk stared with wide eyes as well, and Harry explained, as best as he could right at that moment, what had happened. Sharpner helped him, and medical staff was sent down to take Draco.
Harry was thinking well enough at that point to ask Narcissa to go with Sharpner and the twins. He could not, nor would he leave Draco. He accompanied the Mediwitches and wizards to a hospital room, and refused to leave as they checked his lover's vital signs. Ron remained outside the door, sitting in the hall, waiting.
That was really all there was to do. Wait.
They asked Harry to stand out of the way while they worked on Draco. They had got a detailed medical history from Sharpner before she'd left. Several of the Healers had even seemed to doubt her, especially with the only remaining evidence being two infants. Finally, an elderly wizard in Healer's robes came and sat down in a chair facing Harry. "Mr. Potter," he said, holding out his hand. "I am Healer Roderick. I know this has been a long and difficult day for you."
You don't know the half of it, Harry thought, but he nodded and shook the man's hand. His own hands had been cleaned earlier, but there was still dried blood beneath the fingernails.
"I have known Healer Sharpner for over fifty years," Roderick continued. "If it had been anyone less reliable than her, I doubt that I would have believed what I have heard today. What your ... young man ... has done is actually stunning, both for sheer brilliance and absolute stupidity."
Harry frowned at that, but didn't disagree. "Will he be all right?" he asked.
"His body is responding to treatment. Blood levels are better. But we can't know if it is enough," the Healer explained. "I know Healer Sharpner explained this to you."
Harry looked up hopefully at the words, and then looked down again when the old man had finished. "Yes," he said quietly. "And you'll know if it's ... serious ... in a day or two?"
"It's very serious and it isn't my nature to plant false hopes. There is a very high probability that Mr Malfoy will not regain consciousness. Even if he does regain it, he may have suffered such a catastrophic injury to his brain that he might no longer be the person you knew," Roderick continued, looking very sad.
Harry stared at the man, eyes unbelieving. "No," he whispered. "No, you're lying to me."
"I wish I were," Roderick said with a sigh. "If it were anyone but you, I would recommend you go home, take care of your children, and get on with your life."
Harry's hands began shaking again and he ran them through his hair and over his face. He probably looked like he'd gone crazy. Sharpner had said Draco might not wake up. She had not said that if he did, that he wouldn't be the same. He dropped his elbows to his knees and buried his face in his hands. "Why do you say that?" he asked finally, quietly.
"Because blood carries oxygen to the brain. Mr Malfoy's blood loss was severe enough that his brain may have suffered for it," Roderick explained gently, in the voice of a man who had said this to patients before but still didn't like it.
Harry looked up suddenly, eyes burning with a fierceness. "But there is a chance he could be fine, right?" he demanded. "There's a chance?"
Roderick shrugged. "Normally, I wouldn't bet on it. But then again, I wouldn't have thought that a boy could defeat Voldemort. Your life story seems filled with the impossible. I am an old wizard who has seen more tragedies than I care to name. I would love to see Mr Malfoy beat those odds."
Harry took in a shaky breath. "He will," he said, hands clenched into fists. "I know he will."
Roderick stood up. "My staff will have monitoring spells on him and we will let you know if anything changes. If you want to sit with him, you can. Some people believe that people in a coma can hear, or at least feel those they love. I don't know if it's true, but it might bring you comfort to be with him."
Harry closed his eyes for a moment. Hearing the word 'coma' was scary. Draco was in a coma. Whether it lasted for hours or days, it was terrifying. He nodded, unable to make his voice work again yet.
Healer Roderick patted his shoulder and then turned and left the room.
***
Harry sat next to Draco's bed. He'd been holding his lover's hand for what felt like a very long time. While it was heartening to see that Draco’s colour and warmth had returned, his complete stillness was terrifying. He looked to be asleep. He was breathing evenly, but he didn’t so much as move a muscle. His hand was motionless in Harry’s, his body lying straight on the bed, unnatural. Harry was almost tempted to shift him around, to make him look more normal, but he only sat there, staring and mostly ignoring the Healers around them.
It was impossible not to think, though Harry wished he didn’t have to. As much as he tried to keep it out of his head, the images and words flooded his mind. What if Draco didn’t wake up? What if he remained in this state for the rest of his life? Harry couldn’t bear to think about it, but even worse was what Healer Roderick had told him. What if Draco did wake up, and what if he had … problems? It was almost more terrible to think of this than it was to think of Draco dead. Harry didn’t know what he would do. He didn’t know what Draco would want him to do.
Harry read Draco’s letter several times over, and found he couldn’t even do it without beginning to cry. He was angry with Draco. How could he have been so stupid? How could he think he could deliver those two babies all by himself with Kreacher? Harry wished he could hit him, strangely enough, and it helped to feel angry with Draco. It helped to make it feel like he was going to come back and be fine, that he would be able to get a punch in. But Harry still felt helpless. He was a father now. They were fathers. Their sons were somewhere in the hospital with their grandmother. Their sons. Caelum and Corvus were there. It still didn’t feel real. Maybe because he hadn’t truly seen them yet. He’d only held each of them briefly, and he’d been so afraid for Draco then that he hadn’t been able to take it in. And right then, he suddenly felt a burning need to have his sons where he could see them. He wanted them in his arms, with their parents. Merlin, how long had he even been sitting there? Not knowing exactly where Corvus and Caelum were? What would Draco say to that?
He stood up from his chair, laying Draco’s hand gently on the bed. He started for the door, intending to find someone to tell him where their babies were, but he didn’t have to go far.
Just as he reached the hallway, Narcissa came around the corner a few feet away, her arms full of two little bundles. Harry swallowed, wondering if he could do this without Draco, and waited for Narcissa to reach him.
Her face was still tear-streaked, and there was even a tiny smear of blood still on her temple, where she must have missed when the medical staff had given them towels to clean up. But there was also a small, sad smile on her lips. She stopped in front of Harry, and lifted the boys up a little. “Look,” she said in a quiet, gentle voice. “Here’s your daddy.” Harry trembled, looking down into little sleeping faces.
“Come on back in, Harry,” Narcissa told him. “You can get a better look if you sit down.”
He nodded, allowing her to walk past him into the room, and then followed. She stood beside the chair he had been sitting in, taking steady breaths, and when Harry had taken the seat again, she gently handed him the two tiny infants.
Their eyes were closed, but they made odd little faces in their sleep, and squirmed around. Their skin was slightly wrinkled, like it was too big for them, but they were the most beautiful and amazing things he had ever seen. He stared down at both of them, hardly wanting to take his eyes away, but he did for only a short moment. “Narcissa?” he asked, looking up at her.
She had taken a seat near him on Draco’s bed. Her son’s hand was in hers, and she was staring at his face, expression unreadable. She slowly turned her head to Harry. “Yes?”
“Can you help me?” he said. “I can’t really … touch either of them while holding them both.”
“Yes, of course,” she said quietly, and reached for the nearest baby.
Harry scooted his chair right up as close as he could get to her, wanting to be able to touch both boys. He felt a pang at the thought that Draco would have been doing this with him.
The boys were both wearing small blue hats, and Harry reached to pull the one off the infant in his arms. He was met with a shock of white-blond hair. It was thin, and a little sparse, but definitely Draco’s colour. Harry felt his eyes sting. He moved his hand to the other baby, and pulled his hat off as well. Black hair. A lot of it, and sticking up all over the place. The black-haired baby made a small, grunting sound of annoyance and Harry smiled at him.
“Which one is which?” Narcissa asked, smoothing down the wild strands of the child in her arms.
Harry thought for a moment, and remembered the meanings of the names. “Caelum, the sculptor's chisel,” he said, touching the face of the blond little boy he was holding. He was so soft. “And Corvus, dark-haired, the crow,” he said, touching the other.
Narcissa smiled gently. “Yes,” she said. “I thought so.”
Harry then proceeded to unwrap Corvus and Caelum, wanting to see them. They each squirmed again as the cooler air met their skin, and Corvus made another grunting noise. They had surprisingly long bodies, though their little, skinny legs were bent up. They moved around twitchily, and rubbed at their faces, and Harry felt a warmth looking at them, still hardly able to believe they were his. “They’re perfect,” he whispered, touching fingers and toes on each of them. “Completely perfect.”
“Yes,” Narcissa agreed. “They are.” And she looked at Draco again, the pain in her eyes evident.
Harry looked at him too, and his heart clenched again. He held his arm out to take Corvus again and then stood with the twins. He kissed their hair softly, and then laid Caelum against Draco’s right arm. Against his left he laid Corvus. He stood looking at them, and even with Draco lying still, it looked right.
He shook and then bent to lay a gentle kiss to Draco’s unresponsive lips, resting their foreheads together. “You’ll come back,” he whispered, and a tear slid from his eye to splash against Draco’s skin.
***
Harry found that once Corvus and Caelum were in his sight, once he had truly got a chance to look at them, to really take in that he was their dad, he couldn’t let them go again. Though they had been born two months early, they had been declared healthy – with the help of being fed very often with a mix of their formula and gentle potions – and thus allowed to stay in the room with Harry and Draco. He could hardly put them down.
When they opened their eyes, it was wondrous, every small burbling noise they made was perfect, and the strong kicks of their legs were very reassuring. Upon closer inspection, Harry saw that Corvus definitely had Draco’s nose, and that Caelum sported his own narrow face. He had tried to lay one each in the two cots that had been brought in, but they screamed. Narcissa smiled as she pulled her wand to join the two cots into one, and laid the boys inside it so they could sleep together. Merlin, they were so beautiful, Harry’s heart ached, but it was all bittersweet as Draco lay silent in that bed next to them.
Narcissa, though she kept glancing at Draco and touching him, seemed nearly as taken with the boys as Harry. If Harry wasn’t holding both of them, she had one, and they were both as awestruck as they could be when they got to feed the boys.
After hours had passed, things had finally begun to settle down. Harry knew Draco would wake up. He tried to convince himself of it. Their children were healthy and gorgeous, and Draco would wake up to see them. He would. He had to believe that.
He sat holding Corvus as the baby looked up at him with green eyes that were a little cloudy. Both boys had Harry’s eyes. He smiled down at him, still close to Draco, and took Draco’s hand to let Corvus hold a finger, like he had been doing with both babies all day. He remembered Roderick’s words. Perhaps Draco could feel them. And even if he couldn’t, it was a comfort, and seemed to be a comfort to the boys as well. Roderick had said that, too.
Narcissa and Harry both looked up as a Mediwitch entered, but their attention immediately returned to the babies. Healers and medical staff had been coming in and out since they’d got there to check on Draco and the boys, so they didn’t pay her any attention, but this witch addressed Harry.
“Mr Potter?” she said.
Harry looked up again.
“You do know, don't you, that there are a great lot of people down in the waiting room for you?”
Harry frowned, puzzled. “There are?”
“Yes,” the witch answered. “Quite a lot of ginger hair.”
Harry’s eyes widened. He had completely and totally forgotten about Ron. Of course he would have contacted his family. “Weasleys?” he asked.
“Yes, that’s it,” she said.
“How long have they been there?”
“Well, a few hours, I suppose,” she answered. “Will you be down to see them? Or shall I let them know to come another time? Visiting hours are nearly over.”
Harry frowned again and turned his head to look over at Draco. He did know that his presence wasn’t doing anything to help. He knew. But it didn’t stop the perhaps-irrational feelings inside him of not wanting to let Draco out of his sight. “I’m not leaving him,” he said.
The Mediwitch looked at him with sad eyes. “I’ll let them know."
“Harry,” said Narcissa quietly. “You can go. I’ll be here with him.”
Harry shook his head, looking at Draco’s face. “I’m not leaving him,” he said again.
“Well,” said the Mediwitch. “We could perhaps set it up so that a few people can come in at a time. If you want to see them.”
Harry frowned yet again. If Draco were awake, it might be different. He could protest anyone seeing him, but he wasn’t able in his current state. “I … don’t know if I want anyone to see him,” he said quietly. “He wouldn’t want to be stared at.”
“There are bed curtains if you would like to use them.”
Harry looked up to see that she was right. “I … suppose that would work,” he said.
She nodded. “You would like to see them then?”
Harry took a moment before he nodded as well.
“All right then,” she said. “I’ll just get these closed and I’ll go and fetch your guests.” She pulled her wand and spelled the curtains slowly shut. Harry found he hardly could stand even that. She left then.
Narcissa stood from her chair and walked over with Caelum. “Here,” she said. “So they can see you with them.” She tucked the tiny boy into Harry’s right arm.
After a few minutes of waiting, there was a hesitant knock on the door frame, and Harry looked up to see Hermione standing there.
He managed to give her a small smile. “Come on,” he said.
She stepped inside the room, and Ron, who was behind her, did as well. Mrs Weasley was with them, too. Their eyes flicked to the curtains around the bed, but none of them asked.
“Oh, my goodness, Harry,” Hermione said in a hushed voice as she approached him and the twins. Harry could tell that she had been crying, and one look at Mrs Weasley said she had been, too. “Oh, my goodness,” Hermione repeated. “They’re … beautiful.”
He smiled down into his sons’ faces. “Yes,” he whispered.
She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, bending down to look at the babies.
“Oh, Harry,” said Mrs Weasley tearfully. “They really are. Everyone has been waiting to see them, and, oh, they’re gorgeous.”
Ron sidled up next to him and put a firm hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly.
Harry looked up at him and tried to give him a smile, since a verbal response would have been the word "no". The smile was probably more like a grimace, though.
Ron gave a few small nods, squeezing his shoulder.
“Is this one Corvus?” Hermione asked, gently touching the dark-haired head.
“Yes,” Harry answered.
“I thought so,” she said. “Because of the hair. Corvus and Caelum.” She touched both their heads.
“You have beautiful grandchildren,” Mrs Weasley said to Narcissa, dabbing at her eyes with a cloth she had pulled from somewhere.
Narcissa looked at Mrs Weasley like she thought she was strange, but then smiled. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
“You can hold them if you like,” said Harry.
“Oh,” said Hermione. “Well, I wouldn’t want – Well, all right.”
Harry held his arm out to her, and she reached and took Caelum. Ron pulled a chair over from the side for her.
“Mrs Weasley?” Harry asked, looking from her to Corvus.
She smiled. “Yes, of course I’d love to hold him,” she said.
Harry handed the baby over and Ron Conjured a chair for his mother as well.
“They’re simply precious,” Mrs Weasley said.
“So tiny,” said Hermione.
“They’re two months early,” said Harry. “And they’re a little smaller for being twins.”
Eyes shifted to the curtained bed again.
“Harry …” said Hermione, looking up from Caelum. “What …?”
Harry clenched his hand on his chair, looking down.
Hermione winced and looked away again.
Harry let everyone sit in silence for a few moments, trying to swallow past the lump in his throat. He had to repeat it now. He had to tell other people what was wrong. No, he thought. Draco’s going to wake up, so this is fine. He looked up once more. “The Healers say …” he began in a voice that trembled only slightly, “that … Draco might not wake up.”
Their eyes widened and Hermione’s mouth fell open. “There’s nothing they can do?” she asked.
Harry shook his head. “Only wait,” he said.
“Oh, Harry,” Mrs Weasley whispered.
“But he will,” Harry said firmly. “Don’t doubt it. I know him. He’ll wake up.”
Hermione’s eyes filled with tears.
Harry took deep breaths to keep from doing the same and Ron's hand moved to his shoulders again. “He will, mate,” he said. “And we’re all here for you until he does. Us and those kids.”
Harry continued to try and take calming breaths. He nodded to what Ron said.
Ron nodded too, giving Harry a firm, comforting shake.