Up the Duff

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Most women, having been blessed the dubious joy of having a period since the time they became an adolescent, learn with time how to at least marginally handle the mood swings that go along with it and manage not to murder anyone unnecessarily while under the influence. Don’t misunderstand me, if you’re smart and you know your woman; you still know to step lightly when Aunt Flo is in town.

Not that its a woman’s fault. You try waking up and having to wonder who slaughtered a midget in your underwear while you were sleeping, and see just how chirpy you feel.

Hormones are a bitch and a half but if you live through it, eventually you kinda, sorta make some peace with your traitorous body.

Draco Malfoy-Potter however, being male, had never had to deal with rabid hormones before and so, wasn’t handling it quite so well.

Breakfast at Hogwarts:

Harry Potter-Malfoy: “Draco, will you please pass me the salt?”

Draco Malfoy-Potter: *Wailing* “You don’t want me or this baby do you Potter?!”

Harry was saved from having to answer such a ridiculous question only because at that moment a man with long, flowing, dark, curly locks sauntered past their table flipping his luxurious mane over one shoulder as he went.

Draco forgot all about his husband and was half way out of his seat before he even knew he had moved.
Only Harry’s hand on his shoulder stopped him rushing foreword and grabbing a quick nibble, with or without the mans permission.

“Unhand me you unctuous penk!” Draco hissed.

“Draco.” Harry sighed. “You know you will never forgive yourself later if you actually put your lips on Argus Filch.”

Draco’s lower lip trembled and big, fat tears wobbled down his face. “If you really loved me you would rip his throat out and hang him over a glass so I wouldn’t need to touch him with my lips.”

In the face of a crying Malfoy, Harry actually considered it for a second. He gave himself a hard slap mentally. He couldn’t eviscerate someone every time Draco had a craving. Who knew who or what his pregnant husband might decide he wanted next.

Gently but firmly Harry sat a pouting Draco back in his seat.

“Just look at him.” Draco growled as they both watched Filch approach the head table. “Just flaunting himself!”

Leaning in to speak to Minerva McGonagall, Filch kept tossing his head. Harry thought that it was probably much more likely that Filch was just in love with his new, luxurious locks than that the man was flaunting anything.

About a week after getting slimed by the Duff, Argus Filch had been sporting a head of hair that would have made Lucius Malfoy green with envy. It was probably the most attractive feature Filch had ever enjoyed, and Harry could understand how the homely man might want to show it off a little.

His attention turned from Filch though as Hagrid stood up to leave at the other end of the table. Always huge, the half giant had grown another three feet after his run in with the Duff. Harry glanced over at Draco’s slightly bulging tummy. Apparently the Duff made everything it touched grow in some way or another. As for himself, he had noticed a definite surge in his magic just after they returned. His eyes wandered down the head table to where Severus Snape sat, scowling as usual. Harry squinted at his surly teacher trying to tell if anything were different but could see no changes.

Indeed, it seemed as though Snape was the only one to escape Duff contact unscathed.

“You think Severus is prettier than I am don’t you?” Came a shrill voice from beside him.

“What?!” Harry’s head swiveled to stare at his husband incredulously. He couldn’t have heard that right.

“You heard me Potter.” Draco crossed his arms. “You’re staring at him and ignoring me!”

Harry couldn’t believe his ears. “Draco! That’s insane!”

“Oh…. so now I’m insane am I?” Draco’s eyes flashed dangerously.

“No! No!” Harry held his hands up. “But that’s crazy!”

“Crazy am I?” Draco spat just before he dumped a big glass of blood potion over his stunned husbands head and angrily flounced out of the great hall. The blond stormed through the castle grumbling under his breath. Finally he came to a stop near the Slytherin dungeons. Still cursing, he pushed through the door to the prefects bathroom.

He stalked back and forth across the stone tiles. How dare Potter call him crazy?

Draco kicked the side of the prefects tub. Damn Potter anyway! All he had wanted was a little sip of squib… and possibly some pork rinds. With Tabasco. And strawberry jam. Harry was clearly just being unreasonable.

Draco sighed as he heard the door to the prefects bath swing open behind him. He turned, expecting to find his husband had come after him. Instead, he found none other than Blaise Zabini standing there.

“Are you okay Draco?” Blaise asked, looking concerned.

Draco sighed again and swept a hand through his silky, blond hair. “Yes.. I-I’m fine Blaise. Its just that sometimes…. Well, sometimes Potter can be a little insensitive.”

Blaise nodded sympathetically. “Bloody git always has been tactless.”

Draco chewed at his bottom lip, torn between suddenly wanting to smack the hell out of Blaise for daring to criticize his Harry and needing someone to bitch with.

The bitching won out.

“All I wanted was just a tiny sip of squib… not like I would have hurt the prat.”

Blaise made a face. “Ewwwwwww! Squib?!”

Draco nodded miserably.

Blaise chuckled as he stepped closer to Draco. “Well, they say pregnant women crave all sorts of vile things while they’re pregnant. I guess it isn’t so odd that you do too. Potter should be more responsive to your needs.”

Draco petulantly agreed.

“But Draco..” Blaise slid one arm around his friends shoulders. “Have you thought that maybe that’s not what you really need?”

Draco squirmed uncomfortably under Blaise’s arm. A part of his mind screamed at him that his possessive husband wouldn’t be too happy if he knew Blaise was touching him, but they weren’t doing anything wrong and frankly Draco was pissed at Harry.

“W-what do you mean?”

“Well…” Blaise smiled down at him. “maybe what you need… is some pureblood.”

Draco’s eyes went wide. Was Blaise suggesting what he thought?

The taller boy stepped away from him and reached into his robes, pulling out a small razor with a flourish. Grinning at a gaping Draco, Blaise slowly drew the blade across his wrist, not deep but enough that blood welled out in a crimson half bracelet.

The smell hit Draco like a ton of bricks. Blaise held his wrist out like a gift and the vampire felt his mouth water. His head started to spin. Hadn’t Harry warned him about drinking from a pure blood? It seemed like he had but Draco couldn’t think clearly with that scent assaulting his senses and the sight of
blood narrowing his vision.

“Go on…” Blaise purred, stepping closer. “take all you want… “

Draco felt his fangs start to ache. What was it that Harry had said? He couldn’t remember and at the moment it didn’t seem to matter. He reached out one trembling hand towards the proffered wrist.

“All I ask in return…” Blaise whispered seductively. “Is a small taste of your blood.”

Draco was shivering. The delicious looking liquid was just a small step away. Was a taste of his blood really so much to ask? He couldn’t think straight, damn it!

Before he could decide if it was or not a hand suddenly closed on the scruff of Zabini’s robe and Blaise was thrown viciously through the air by a snarling Harry Potter-Malfoy.

Two steps and Harry was on top of a fallen Blaise. “How dare you?” Harry’s eyes sparkled with rage as he shook Blaise like a rag doll. “How fucking dare you Zabini?”

“P-potter!” Zabini squealed in terror.

Harry jerked Blaise up so that they were practically nose to nose. “Listen carefully Zabini.” Harry snarled,
“I’m only going to say this once.” He shook Zabini roughly again. “Stay away from my husband or I will tear your head off with my bare hands!”

From the look in Harry’s eyes Blaise didn’t doubt it. Frantically he shook his head. “Anything you say Potter.” He squeaked.

Harry shoved Blaise forcibly away from him. The other boy stumbled but regained his footing enough to turn and run from the room.

He scowled at the retreating Slytherin’s back for a moment before turning back to his husband, fully intending to give Draco a piece of his mind for how he had acted in the great hall and for being alone with Blaise in the first place.

Once his gaze landed on his other half though, Harry felt his heart melt completely and he forgot all about Draco’s bad behavior earlier.

Draco had dropped down and curled up into a trembling ball on the floor. Quiet sobs reached Harry’s ears as he approached.

Tentatively he reached out and lay a hand on one shaking shoulder. “Draco?”

With a loud cry Draco threw himself into his spouses strong arms.

“I’m so sorry Harry.” Draco sobbed against his husbands chest. “I know I’m being horrible but I just cant seem to help myself.”

Harry lifted Draco’s chin so he could look him in the eye. “You have nothing to apologize for my darling. Ill try to be more understanding, yeah?” Don’t cry any more love.” He said soothingly.

Draco managed a tremulous smile for Harry’s sake.

“Ahhhhhh…” Harry smiled back. “There’s my little coffin cutie.”

Draco giggled as he snuffled. “You and your stupid nicknames.”

Harry pretended offense. “Stupid nicknames? Draco you wound me.” Dramatically he clutched his chest.

Draco giggled again. “Some of them make me want to wound you.”

“My Deceased Darling.” Harry nuzzled his neck.

“Oh God.”

“Vampire Vixen.”

Draco giggled uncontrollably.

“Dreamy Dracula.”

“Now you’re just being silly Potter.”

“Earlier I was thinking “Hormone Honey.”

Draco pulled Harry in for a kiss. “Just quit while you’re ahead Potter.” He murmured.

And Harry wisely did.

TBC….