Archive of Our Own

The day had started like any other until the thought hit him.

What was Potter up to?

He hadn’t had that thought in over a decade. Then during his regular, admittedly boring, morning routine, there it was. He brushed it away as his age getting to him. At Hogwarts, that thought had plagued him for years. Potter would walk in a different direction than he was supposed to and Draco would follow. But Hogwarts was far in the past, and Draco had no reason to be concerned with the past.

The thought kept reappearing as he went about his day. Sipping coffee at his desk and his mind would wander. Surely, it must have meant he was missing home. Draco had lost contact with all of his friends and most of his family over the years.

Then he'd wonder: had Potter lost track of his friends? No, Potter most likely lived on the same street as his friends. They probably all married the same year and had children the same ages.

Pansy had a couple of boys. Blaise had a daughter who Draco had never met. Had it really been three years since he'd seen Blaise?

At work, Draco couldn't concentrate. He found himself staring out the window and daydreaming of his old school days. There were many things he’d rather forget. Things he wished he’d done differently.

By the end of the day, he'd decided to quit his job.

“Draco,” his boss pleaded with him. “Don't throw your life away over some midlife crisis. I've been through this before myself. This feeling will come to pass. Take a holiday, but don't destroy your life!”

Since Draco never cared for people telling him what to do or how to live his life, he packed his bags and flew back to England the next day. Besides, his was capable of doing his job from anywhere. Everyone need someone to perform the tedious tasks of crunching numbers for them.

“Draco?” his father said upon seeing him at the door. He stepped back to allow Draco to enter—his face still covered in surprise.

He hadn’t meant to disappear from his family's life, but once he was gone he had no desire to come back. The longer he'd waited, the harder it was to return. For a few years after his left, his mother would owl him, and he always responded. He simply needed time alone and away from everyone. Even after the first few years, he still met with his friends when they travelled around the world. But as everyone grew older and settled down, they grew apart.

His father hugged him and Draco returned it.

“Where's mother?”

It wasn't until his father hesitated did Draco worry something might have happened to her. But then, his father nodded towards the garden. Relief flowed through him as he walked out to the garden to greet his mother. His father slowly followed.

His mother's reaction to seeing him was much the same as his father's: disbelief and his name as a question.

After she hugged him she asked, “Why the sudden visit?”

“It’s not a visit,” Draco said. “I've quit my job and I’m moving back. I felt the need to return.”

“Okay?” his mother’s voice showed her concern. “Are you ill?”

Draco did not know how to respond. How do you say I just need to see Potter’s dumb face, again?

As much as he believed his boss was correct in his assumption Draco was having a midlife crisis, the thoughts of Potter and what he was doing and where he was at—hadn't left him. He came home first, because where else was he to go? But it was in the back of his mind where he wanted to be was wherever Potter was. And he didn’t particularly care where that place was. He’d move again if he needed to once he knew what became of him.

And though he would have been more comfortable having the conversation with Pansy or Blaise, they were familiar with Draco’s one track mindedness when it came to Potter, they wouldn’t be thrilled to see him right then. He had been so close with his friends in the past, but that was the past and family was family. He knew no matter how long he was gone, his family would let him in. But with his friends, he had a lot of apologising to do.

“I'm not sure,” Draco said.

His parents shared a book. They were clearly suspicious. Draco did not stop his mother from casting various spells around him. She's found nothing. It took a moment before his father tried a few himself. Lucius had never been the fretting type. His spells looked for dark magic.

“I’m fine,” he assured them. “I have just had enough of time alone.”

And he wasn’t attached to his job. There was nothing about France, or Italy, or New Zealand that he even missed. He’d moved around a bit while trying to find himself. No place felt wrong but none of them felt right either.

“Why don’t you get some rest,” his father suggested. “Join us for dinner if you’re feeling up to it.”

Draco took the suggestion. He slept two days before finally coming to a meal with his parents. Until then, he hadn’t realised how tired he was, but after sleeping for such a long period it was obvious to him he had needed it.

After cleaning himself up, and eating a good meal, Draco could see how erratic his behaviour had been.

“Sorry,” he told his parents after taking a glass of wine. “I don’t know what came over me. I must have been ill, but I’m feeling much better now.”

“What are you planning to do?” his father asked.

“I’m not going back.” That Draco was sure of. There was nothing wrong with where he was, but he needed to be here for the time being. “I’ll find another job. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

His parents shared a look. Again.

“Take all the time you need,” Mother said.

It had been years. Though everyone in England knew of his family, he was sure it wouldn’t be the same as it had been when he left. Pansy, Blaise, Goyle were all fine with their lives.

Yet, his mother’s fears turned out to be true. After a week of rejections before he even applied for a job, Draco went to see Pansy.

“I don’t work, Draco.” Pansy laughed at the idea. “Why would you ever think I would?”

“Well, you married…” Draco trailed off at her look.

“Neville makes plenty to take care of us.”

“As a Professor?”

Draco didn’t believe it. They made enough to take care of an average family, but Pansy was no average person. Except, sitting there Draco was seeing that she was. She looked just the same, just as polished, but her clothes were not tailored to her. More likely tailored by her.

“Don’t judge,” she said.

He had no room. She knew he had no room to talk if she meant about who she married. The money was a separate matter. Her parents could just give her money if she wanted it. That clearly wasn’t the case.

They had never spoke about her marriage before. Draco had already been gone for years before Pansy began to date Neville. He didn’t feel it was his business, and even then—though he never admitted it aloud—he had no room to speak. She was living a life Draco would happily live himself if it were an option.

It wasn’t.

“Any news about Potter?” He tried to make the question lighthearted.

Pansy gave him a look; it spoke volumes of how she saw right through him. “From the Prophet or Neville?”

The surprise must have shown on his face, because she continued, “You knew they were good friends, of course?”

Draco shook his head. “They weren’t close in school. Same house, they spoke, but not close.”

“Closer than I had realised back then.”

“Is he married?” Draco took a moment. “Children?”

“I’m not a Harry Potter information centre, Draco.”

“I’m sure it’s public knowledge. The Prophet—”

“Then go look it up!”

After they were silent for a moment, Draco explained, “that’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I’m back; you’re—you were my friend.”

Pansy looked away as she collected her thoughts. “No judgement?”

“How could I sit here and ask you about Potter while judging you about being with Neville?” Of course, he would never judge her. He was genuinely surprised she even thought he would, but then, he did disappear. They didn’t know each other anymore. “Your parents?”

All she did was shrug.

“Who needs tailored clothes anyhow?” Draco reached for her hand across the small end table. “Certainly not someone as beautiful as you.”

“I’ll take the compliment,” Pansy said accepting Draco’s hand. “Even if that’s what all the gay men say.”

It didn’t take Draco long to find out Potter never married and didn’t have any children. He was single and living a carefree lifestyle. Photographs of him out with friends littered the Prophet. There were a few quiet years, but recently he’d been out and about, again. With men, with women. No way to tell if they were together. If he was straight, if he was gay. The Prophet speculated as much as Draco had himself for years on that point.

That is where Draco stopped.

Harry was an Auror. Draco could find out more, but he didn’t want to. He was single. Publically, at least, and it was all Draco needed to know. Anything else? He wanted to hear from Harry’s mouth, not someone else’s.

“You’re ill,” Draco’s mother said.

He looked up from the Prophet. “I’m fine.”

“You’re pale; your behaviour has been erratic—”

“I’ve been fine since I’ve been back.” He put the paper aside and started in on his breakfast. “I’m just a frustrated at the lack of job prospects.”

He’d talked to Blaise and Goyle, who both worked, but their family had pulled strings for them. Blaise was an investor. Draco debated going into it as well. He’d didn’t have Blaise’s way with people, though.

“How are you doing?” Draco asked his mother. He never talked to his parents about money before. They’d always simply had it. After the war, he left. So he never got news about what exactly the Ministry did to punish them. If they sent his father to prison, he was obviously released. But since they let Draco go without so much as a slap on the wrist, he wasn’t sure they'd bothered with tracking down his father. With the Dark Lord gone, there was a mess to clean up, but his father wasn’t dangerous. He was just someone forced into a desperate situation.

Either way, those were things they simply never talked about.

“I’m fine, darling. Still, I think you should get a check-up. When was the last time?”

Draco nodded his head. She knew he never bothered with such things.

“Then I’m sure it’s time. I’ll make you an appointment.”

When Harry first saw Malfoy, he had turned and walked in the opposite direction. The sight of Draco shocked him. Harry had forgotten all about him. It had been seventeen years since the end of the war, and Harry had let the past go. His thoughts were all about the future now.

The second time that Harry saw him, Draco didn't have a chance to run away. Draco had seen him first. When Harry looked up and caught Draco's eye, Draco was glaring at him.

“What are you doing here?” they both asked.

They were in the waiting room for the Healer. It was obvious why they both were there. Harry smiled and looked to the ground. He wanted to laugh, but laughing was never a thing they’d done together.

“I just moved back home.”

“Oh,” Harry said. “Where were you?”

“I moved to France for a while. I studied there and then lived in Sweden, and then to few more places before settling down in New Zealand.”

“Everyone had wondered where you had gone,” Harry said, just trying to make polite conversation. It was in the papers for a couple of weeks. Most people were simply happy to see him go, but Harry didn’t tell him that.

“I just needed some time to myself.”

“I can understand that. I still don't get enough time to myself.”

It grew quiet around them as they had so quickly run out of things to say to each other. Harry didn’t know why he didn’t move on. He didn’t have to sit with Draco just because he knew who he was.

“During a mission a few weeks back, I had a shelf of potions collapse over my head. I didn’t ingest any of them, but it’s protocol—”

“Of course,” Draco said, “not all potions are meant to be swallowed.” And if he was on a mission, they could be illegal and although not always most of the time illegal meant deadly and dangerous. “You do seem to have a glow about you.”

“Yes, one of them was gold dust more than a potion. We can't seem to get it to quite let go of me yet, but it hasn’t had any other effects. Hermione is sure it’s just glitter and I would agree, but I can’t get it to wash off either. Also, even glitter doesn’t last this long.”

“What’s glitter?”

“See, that’s the reason the Healer’s dismissed the idea of glitter themselves: they don’t know what it is.” Harry laughed, but Draco didn’t join him. “It’s a craft supply like confetti. Children use it to make things sparkle and shine. Sometimes girls put it on their face for the same reason. It’s popular on clothing, but it’s annoying because it gets everywhere and you can’t get rid of it.”

“It sounds like a disease.”

“Well—” Harry gestured around him. “Many people see it that way. This, if anything, has made me fond of glitter. Everyone has been focused on it other than me specifically recently. They keep a few feet away from me, not wanting to catch it.

Draco smirked. “Maybe I should pick some up.”

Then Harry was called to see the Healer and Draco had left by the time Harry returned to the reception area.

“You don’t think he’s up to something, do you?” Ron asked.

“What?” Harry had just finished telling Ron about his run in with Draco. “No, why would he be?”

“When did you start calling him Draco?”

“After the war.” Harry didn’t elaborate on that point. It wasn’t a huge change. Hermione had started calling him Draco around sixth year. It seemed like the adult thing to do. “What?”

“Nothing.” Ron shook his head but Harry still didn’t like the look he was giving him. “What did the Healers say? It looks like you’ve lost some of the glimmer.”

“Hmmm. They found out what it was and clearly—” Harry gestured to himself. “It’s meant for external use, so they aren’t worried about it hurting me physically. And actually, the reason it’s illegal is because it’s highly sought after.”

Harry laughed at everyone keeping their distance from him.

“Huh?”

“It’s a genie potion, except you don’t get to pick the wishes.”

At Ron’s look of horror, Harry continued, “it’s not that bad. It just gives you the three things you want most in life. You don’t ask for the wishes or even know what they are, but you receive them.”

“Then why aren’t you out partying as much?”

Harry leaned against the counter in Ron’s kitchen as he thought about it. “I just haven’t been up to is as much…”

“Do you think it’s because of this?”

“Probably.” Harry tried to flatten out his hair. “I love the parties but sometimes I did that more for everyone else and less for myself.”

“The public loves you.”

“I’m getting older.” And he wanted something more. His thirty-fifth birthday was coming up. It felt like a milestone. Like he should be close to figuring out what he wanted to do with his life. He had the basics figured out a long time ago. He was an Auror and he couldn’t imagine doing anything else for a career. But a family? He was so sure he hadn’t wanted one for so long after the war. Seeing all the families around him torn apart. His job at the time was constant and unstable. He never wanted to have someone at home worrying about him.

Harry laughed to himself again.

“What?” Ron said.

“Draco would never be sitting around the house worrying about me when I was on a mission.”

“Okay?”

“If I died he’d probably find a way to bring me back to just to kill me again as punishment for being careless enough to get killed.”

“Mate?”

They stared at each other for a moment.

“That was a weird thought, wasn’t it?” Before Ron could suggest anything, Harry said, “I really don’t think he’s up to anything. He looked very under the weather at the Healer's office. He didn’t even seem to care what I was up to, and he didn’t come back until after I was hit with the potion. This might be the potion, but there’s no connection to him.”

Harry sighed as Ron nodded. Ron didn’t become an Auror. Harry had to do this too much with all the new Aurors they trained with. They had grudges and they ignored facts to go after people they hated. Ron didn’t hate Draco anymore, but there was no connection and still his mind leapt there. It was a constant battle still.

“It wouldn’t be so bad to just be friends with him, though. People say they’ve let go of the past, but then—”

“I’m sorry,” Ron said, shaking his head at himself. “How would it even matter if Draco had something to do with giving you three wishes anyway?”

“Exactly!”

“You're being ridiculous! You can't just desire to have a baby and fall pregnant!” Pansy said.

Draco went straight from the Healer's to Pansy’s house. “I didn't desire it. I'd merely been thinking about it.” And if he was technical, he hadn’t imagined having a baby just thought it would be nice to have a family. “I haven’t had sex in years, Pansy. And males don’t exactly just accidentally get pregnant!”

“No, you were clearly cursed.”

“I wouldn’t call it a curse.”

“What would you call it?”

“A child isn’t a curse. And, how? I was in New Zealand, even you didn’t know I was there. Who after all these years? And pregnancy of all things?”

“People hold on to grudges longer than you'd imagine.”

“Clearly.” Draco held his stomach.

“Are you nauseous?”

“Yes, but not from that. It’s too early. Just from this situation. I’m glad I came home, I’d have no idea how to deal with this by myself.”

Pansy poured Draco more tea. “How do you manage to get into these situations?”

“What situation?” Neville popped out onto the veranda with them.

Draco froze seeing him. It was just like seeing Potter, again. He was speechless for a moment as Pansy answered, “Draco’s pregnant.”

“Pansy! Personal information!”

“Draco, husband!”

Neville smiled at that. “Is that even possible?”

“With magic,” Draco explained. “The Healer said there is a host of ways to make it possible with magic but most of them are voluntary, and even if we figured out how they did it, the results are the same.”

“So?” Neville asked.

“They aren’t investigating it,” Pansy clarified. “It doesn’t matter for him or the baby how he got pregnant, so they are just dealing with the pregnancy. He can go to the Aurors if he wants them to try and find out who did it. And yes, Draco, do go run to Potter begging for his help with your cursed pregnancy.”

“No!” Draco could feel his face turning red. “It’s not a curse.”

Then Neville saved the day by confronting Pansy. “We should have another one. Then you two could go through this together.”

“And have children the same ages,” Draco snorted as he said it.

It was quiet as Pansy studied Draco and then Neville’s expressions. “We still haven’t had a girl.”

“Think about it,” Neville said then turned and walked back to the house, “I’m going to make dinner, and let me know if you want me to talk to Harry for you. I’m sure he’d like a less dangerous case while he’s still glimmering.”

Pansy giggled. “I really need to see this.”

“You're not really going to have a child just because I am, are you?”

“Of course not!” Pansy said.

Draco sighed, not sure how he'd handle that.

“We've discussed it for ages. I've told him I'm fine not trying for a girl, but … it would be nice.” Pansy laughed at terrified expression on Draco's face. “It could end up another boy, though.”

“You can't just jump into something like this—a child is a whole person. A very small, fragile, dependent person!”

“Oh, Draco, it's not quite jumping into it after you're already married with children. Plus, the whole creating children bit is a lot of fun.”

Draco sputtered and reddened, and the calmed down at seeing Pansy's smirk. “You're making fun of me.”

“You make it so easy. You should see the expressions that just crossed your face.”

“Thanks.”

The thought of going to Potter would not leave his mind. He didn’t want to tell the world about his situation. After being home for only a few weeks, he already felt the desire to run away again. The anxiety that followed him everywhere after the war returned.

He simply needed to get over it. He knew that. Which made him want to contact Potter even more. If he could just apologise. Clear the air. Then everything would be okay again.

Draco’s mother was right. His behaviour was erratic. He thought it could be the pregnancy, but the symptoms really didn’t fit.

After another week of thinking of nothing except Potter, he decided to seek him out. He went over what he would say over and over again. But he couldn’t get himself to actually Floo to the Ministry. He ended up using an owl. He didn’t know where Potter lived, but owls were good at finding people.

Once it was sent, all he could do was wait.

Harry still received too many owls for him to get through them all. It wasn’t always easy to tell from the outside which was fan mail and which was important. He tried to sort through it and open everything every couple days, but he doesn’t always get through it. It might have been a week before he finally realised one of his letters was from Draco.

It was an apology.

He took it to Ron and Hermione’s straight away.

“Mate,” Ron said, scratching his head and looking around for coffee. “You know it’s eight o’clock in the morning… on a Saturday, right?”

Harry grabbed for two mugs and began making the coffee himself. “Do you think it’s the potion?”

“What?”

“The potion that fell on me! Do you think this is one of my ‘wishes’?”

“I knew what you meant.” They were quiet for a moment. “Do you?”

Well, clearly that was Harry’s first thought. Why would Draco apologise after all these years unless something was compelling him to do it?

“Why would you want Draco to apologise to you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you feel better now somehow?”

“Not really.” Harry read the owl to himself, again. “I’ll write back. Maybe, we need to sit down and talk.”

“Or, maybe, coincidence and has nothing to do with anything.”

Harry glared at him and Ron raised his hand is mock self defence.

“But, you do you, mate.”

They laughed at that.

“Quit talking like Teddy.”

“He’s been hanging around a lot. I can’t help it.”

“How is the shop going?” Harry finished making the coffee and handed Ron a cup. “And your family?”

“Everything good with us.” Ron shook his head. “I think worrying about your glimmering is the most excitement we’ve had for a while.”

Harry nodded and thought to himself for a moment. “Are you worried about it?”

“We’ve—Hermione and I—have talked about it a bit and if they’re your wishes, then we support you.” After taking a sip, he continued, “even if they involve Malfoy.”

“Still not Draco.”

“I’m not sure I’ll ever be there, mate, but I don’t think I need to. I’m your best friend. I don’t have to be your significant other’s best friend. Look at Neville—do you think Ginny or Luna get on with Pansy? No, but it hasn’t damaged any of their relationships.”

“Right, Pansy.” Harry had forgot. He was friends with Neville, but they never spent time with Pansy. “How are they?”

“Happy as ever as far as I can tell.”

“Pansy,” Harry said, as he thought to himself, ‘Draco’s friend’.

“Pansy!” Harry hadn’t meant for it to be so enthusiastic. “It’s been so long.”

“Yes,” Pansy said, quietly. “And the children are napping.”

Neville shook his head. “They’re out back playing—they haven’t napped in years.”

“Still,” Pansy said, looking Harry up and down accusingly. “Speak of the devil and he appears.”

“Hmm?”

“Oh,” Neville said. “Draco was here not long ago and we thought he might take a case to you, since—” He gestured to the glimmer around Harry. “Although, it does seem to be fading.”

“Yes, apparently a couple of my wishes have come true.” Harry pulled a hand through his hair. “I kind of wish I knew what they were.”

“You don’t know?” Pansy asked.

“No clue.”

“Clueless.” Pansy looked from Harry to Neville. “Why am I not surprised?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Why would Draco want to come to me with a case?”

“He didn’t or he would have. Neville suggested it.”

“Draco’s been cursed with a pregnancy,” Neville said. “Weird, huh?”

“When did you become such a gossip?” Pansy asked, irritated. “You know Draco doesn’t want people talking about it.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Harry said, not wanting to start an argument. “I’m an Auror.”

“You are someone, Potter.”

It took Harry a moment to respond. “Right, of course.”

“Harry could help,” Neville insisted.

“Draco didn’t want him to know.”

Neville sighed. “Why are people so dramatic and complicated?”

“I won’t tell him you told me,” Harry said, and then came to sit next to Pansy. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t work on it in my spare time. I seem to have a lot of that recently.”

“Is the glow scaring your adoring fans away from you?”

“A bit, yes.” Harry laughed. “Not that I’m complaining. I’ve been enjoying the peace, actually. Still, if Draco needs help. Who’s working on the case now? How did they curse him?”

“The Healers aren’t investigating the how, and Draco hasn’t asked anyone to look into who might have done it. I think he’s been a bit busy with the whole being a pregnant bloke part.”

“What’s the other father doing?”

They were quiet as Neville looked at Pansy waiting for her permission to discuss it.

“It’s none of my business,” Harry said, in a way he hoped sounded sincere.

Pansy finally answered. “There is no other father. He was cursed pregnant. It was out of the blue. Draco wasn’t seeing anyone.”

“Oh,” was all Harry said.

“If he wanted to be with someone,” Pansy continued, “I’m sure it would be a man, though. Not that it’s any of your business or that you care or anything.”

Then Neville jumped in, “I’m sure he’d tell you all about it himself, if you were to talk to him about it.”

“Right.” Harry was uncomfortable with the thought. Their last conversation was forced. “He did owl me. Not about this, but it was an owl.”

“What was it about?” Pansy asked.

“Mostly Hogwarts. A bit about the war. He apologised.”

“That’s a good start,” Neville said. “He talks to me and hasn’t ever apologised.”

Pansy shook her head. “He talks to me and you’re there, dear; it’s not the same.”

Neville, ever the optimist, continued, “Still it never hurts to try. Just let him bring up the case? Also, he’s probably home right now since he’s looking for a job.”

“Merlin, Neville are you going to give Harry his address?”

“Do you need it?”

After two hours of talking, Harry still hadn’t got around to bringing up why he was there. Or rather, he still hadn’t got Draco to tell him he was pregnant so Harry could help him. They’d talked about Hogwarts, avoiding the parts that would lead to a fight. What they were up to then, and why Harry was glowing.

Finally, Harry had enough of waiting. He asked Draco, “Why did you move back?” hoping he'd mention the pregnancy.

“I’d just been gone too long.”

“You missed home?”

“I suppose so.”

He was avoiding and Harry knew it. They sat in silence and Harry cursed himself for bringing it up. They'd never been friends, and though they were getting along then the conversation was polite. It wasn’t catching up with someone who’d been comfortable around him. It was catching up with tension in the air.

Only when they were younger, Harry had been on edge looking for Draco’s next attack. Now, Harry felt more like the one to attack. Trying to find the right words to get the information out of Draco. What did it take to get Draco to ask someone for help?

It was too quiet and Draco was studying Harry.

He hated that.

He wondered how far along Draco was. Draco didn’t look pregnant, but the Healers already knew that he was.

Wanting to confess that he knew and knowing that he couldn’t, Harry tried to find a way to get the conversation going again. Instead, Draco was the one to do it.

“Why did you stop by?”

“You sent me an owl.”

“Right,” Draco said and stood to approach Harry. “You could have sent one back.”

Harry felt himself go red as thought of what to say. “I thought it would be better to answer in person?” He hadn’t thought too much about his desire to come visit Draco at home. Neville suggested to talk to Draco himself and then next thing he knew he was in Draco’s living room. In retrospect, he probably should have asked before popping through Draco’s Floo like that.

The way Draco inched toward Harry put all thoughts of making up excuses for his own actions aside.

After partying for years, Harry could tell when someone wanted him. He might have been clueless in the beginning, but no one parties every weekend and doesn’t pick up a few things. Like someone making eye contact and slowly crossing a room. Or finding ways to touch someone to see how they react. Harry realised Draco had been flirting with him the whole time. Of course, why else would he not kick Harry out of his house as soon as he'd arrived.

They were not and had never been friends.

“Thanks for not kicking me out,” Harry said and he stood as well.

“I never planned on it.”

Following Draco’s lead, they headed to the kitchen.

Without really talking about anything in particular, the conversation started again. Neville and Pansy were joking about having another child. Draco was going to see Blaise during the weekend. Harry was giving up the partying lifestyle. He wanted something more real. All the Weasleys were married, even Ginny, with children. Harry had been with men before. Draco had only been with men since he was a teenager.

Neither one of them were seeing anyone at the moment.

Neither one of them knew what they wanted at the moment.

When Draco woke in the morning, he was surprised that Harry was still there. He wasn’t simply still there, though. He was making breakfast. Coffee was ready and waiting. He was eating toast and cooking sausage.

Draco wasn’t a stranger to a one night stand. This: walking into his kitchen with a man making him breakfast the next morning, however, was very new.

“Be careful,” Draco said, making Harry jump as he turned around. “You keep this up and I might have to keep you around.”

Harry laughed and went back to turning the sausages. “I might hold you to it.”

Draco’s stomach twisted. He tried not to hope for that. It took him years but he had eventually admitted to himself he liked Harry more than he ever really hated him. After sex, it was all too clear how much he really liked him. Had anyone else decided they could help themselves to Draco’s food, he might have kicked them out. Not politely at that.

“But you don’t know what you want.”

Turning back to Draco, Harry nodded. “Why don’t we just see where it goes?”

“I’ve never been a spontaneous person. I like things planned out.”

“Not so much recently,” Harry pointed out.

Draco couldn’t disagree with that. Then he caught Harry doing it again: staring at his stomach. He was going to kill Pansy. She must have told him.

What if Harry did actually know what he wanted? If the only reason he was there was because he knew Draco was pregnant? They could help each other. This could be the best thing for both of them. If Harry wanted a baby, and Draco needed help raising his child.

“True,” Draco finally said. “It puts me on edge, though. How do you do it all the time?”

“I just don’t care, I guess. That sounds bad. No, it’s—either way, everything works out. It’s not that I don’t care, but I’m happy with all outcomes. See, if I’m, say, heading to Ron and Hermione’s house and I make it there: goal accomplished. But if I run into Neville on the way and we end up repotting plants for two hours: I got to see Neville and I haven’t for a while. Not my goal, but I’m still happy with my day. I’ll see Ron later.”

Thinking about that situation made Draco’s stomach turn. He would not be happy repotting plants with Neville for two hours. Even worse if he had plans to meet someone else. He’d be late and they’d be in a snit because of it.

“How does Pansy deal with that?”

“I’m not sure. She’s never seemed—well,” Harry thought about it longer. “I suppose she isn’t the sweetest when people just show up, but I don’t think any of us expect her to be regardless, honestly.”

“Perhaps you should try more planned events with her.”

Harry put a plate of food in front of Draco and it made Draco feel queasy. It had started early that week, but Draco had already learned not eating made it worse. He’d eat and lose it and then eat again. It was the only thing which really worked for him. Harry would find out. Then again, Harry already knew. They might as well talk about it instead of continuing to talk around it.

“Why aren’t you at the manor?” Harry asked as Draco took bites of his toast.

“Hmmm. Well, I can’t stand my parents hovering over me. Why do you live alone?”

“I enjoy it.” Harry nodded. “Most of the time.”

A few more bites of food and then the need to vomit hit him. Draco didn’t run to the toilet. Still it was obvious why he had left so suddenly. When he returned, Harry wouldn’t make eye contact. He was washing the dishes and cleaning up the mess he’d left from breakfast.

“So,” Draco said, sitting back down with his plate. “Are you interested in having children of your own?”

Harry opened and closed his mouth.

“Pansy told you I was pregnant and that’s why you’re here.”

“I’m here because I wanted to talk to you.”

Funny, Draco thought, he was here because he just needed to see Potter’s dumb, handsome face again. But he refused to say that aloud.

“Neville told me you were cursed but you didn’t want to look for who did it.”

“I don’t think I was cursed.”

“But—”

“I don’t know what’s going on, but being raised with magic I know certain things. This doesn’t feel like a curse. It’s not causing me any fear. If it were a curse, it would. Even small hexes cause pain.”

Harry gave him a look that said this one would. Draco knew it would, but it still didn’t fit.

“I think I might have let it happen if that makes sense.”

“Like you wished it?”

“More like I didn’t refuse it. I’m not against having a family. I’d been thinking about it. Wondering if it was even possible. What if we’re too old for this?”

“We’re only thirty-five.”

“Yes, but there is still the finding someone to date. Then dating long enough to get married. Then being married long enough, et cetra.”

Harry shrugged. “You’ve skipped some of those parts now.”

“I don’t need to be with someone just because I’m having a baby. And I didn’t report it, because even if there was a someone to find that is behind all of this, I’m not sure I want to know. What good is it going to do?” Draco hesitated, but then added, “I also doubt the Aurors will work very hard on any case that has to do with me.”

“I would.”

“Well, you’re you, and—” Draco nodded to the bedroom. “You’re a bit of conflict of interest now.”

“Right.”

“So,” Ron said, “you’re not taking on the case?”

“There will be no case.”

“And you’re not dating,” Hermione clarified.

“I think we might actually be dating.”

They hadn’t spent a day apart in a week.

“Not to be the downer,” Hermione said. “Since you’re all a glow right now, but don’t you think it’s a bit soon to be starting a family with, um, someone you once hated until—what?”

Ron elbowed Hermione.

Harry laughed at them. “Do you remember when I used Felix Felicis?”

“Is this like that?” Ron asked.

“Yeah. I think it is. Draco was talking about how he just knew things about magic. His pregnancy doesn’t feel like a curse. It got me thinking about Felix Felicis and that’s the closest to this feeling I’ve ever had with magic. I’m not being as lead by this as with Felix, but yes I think they’re similar.”

They were quiet as they watched him for a moment.

“How did you figure out what you wanted in life?” Harry asked.

Ron shrugged.

Hermione said, “I always knew.”

“How can you just always know? You never question it?” Harry laughed. “What am I saying? You have it all Hermione. A great career, wonderful marriage to your first love, and children. It’s what everyone wants.”

“Hey,” Ron said. “I have what everyone wants, too!”

“I know: Hermione.”

“Hey! Wait, is that true?”

She rolled her eyes at them both. “Not everyone wants a family Harry. I was so sure you didn’t. You’ve been happy on your own. What did this potion do to you to change that? Because it did change that.”

“Maybe I was more content than actually happy?” Harry thought about it. “No, I was happy. I’m still happy. It didn’t change anything. I’ve just been thinking about: if I got to choose the wishes and they didn’t just happen on their own, what would I have chosen?

“And, I don’t know. I don’t know what I want. My life is great, but I have no idea what I want to do with it.”

“Who says you have to do anything with it?” Hermione asked. “Who are you disappointing by not getting married and having kids or not having a great career?”

“Mate, we already saved the world, I think we’re good.” Ron nodded empathically. “There’s no one to disappoint. You’re already in the history books.”

“Myself?”

“Are you disappointed in yourself?”

Harry shook his head. No. He wanted to be a great Auror and he was. He was the best. Everyone said so. He made his goals and he accomplished them. He needed new goals.

“Maybe it’s just because Malfoy needs you,” Ron pointed out. “He’s pregnant—so now you want to be a father.”

“I want it to be mine, though.”

“That’s a natural instinct,” Hermione choked on her words as they came out. “You look a little surprised that you just said that, Harry.”

“Yes, that keeps happening.”

“What?” Ron leaned in looking at Harry’s mouth as if something was hiding in it.

“I’ll say something that I’m not sure is actually true until after I say it.”

“Are we still thinking Malfoy didn’t do this somehow?”

Hermione elbowed Ron that time. “How long have you had feelings for Draco?”

“Good feelings or bad feelings?”

“I’m going to go with either.”

“Always?”

“Alright then. How about good feelings?”

Harry thought about it. “He hadn’t crossed my mind in years until he showed up at the Healer's. Indifferent feelings I suppose. I don’t think I realised I liked him until after the sex.”

“Too much information, mate.”

“I just knew he was interested in me before that and just did what I always do.”

“What do you always do?”

“Ron!”

“I notice that someone is interested in me and we go off alone together.”

“Harry!”

“Hermione!” Harry said mocking her.

“That’s not funny.” Hermione shook her head at them both. “You two are—but that’s actually just normal again, Harry. I don’t think the potion has anything to do with any of this.”

After a moment, Harry asked. “Is it normal to want someone else’s kid to be mine?”

“Is it even someone else’s though? It’s a magic baby; it has no other parent.” Hermione pointed out. “But, if you like Draco, then of course it’s normal. It’s normal to be jealous sometimes Harry, to want things you don’t have or can’t have. I know that’s not something you’re used to anymore, but you used to be jealous all the time when we were kids.”

“When?” Harry was insulted by the accusation.

“You’ve always hated your cousin.”

“Because of how he treated me how—” Harry didn’t finish that thought. Dudley got everything and Harry had nothing. That did sound jealous even if it wasn’t. He didn’t want everything that Dudley had or anything that he had really. He just wanted his own parents in his own house far away from them.

Just then there was a crash and then Ron and Hermione ran to see what happened. As the children yelled over each other Harry came up behind them to watch the scene. There were toys everywhere. They must have been building a tower with them. As Hermione checked them over for wounds, Ron gathered the toys together in a pile in the middle of the room.

Harry felt no longing to have these moments. He already was having them. With his friends’ kids. That didn’t meant he didn’t want them either. Both ends were happy for him. He was glad the potion could figure this all out without his input, because he still couldn’t think of one thing he’d wish for. Harry had no idea what he wanted.

Looking down at his hand, Harry saw the glow as still there. It hadn’t faded anymore since his last Healer visit.

“I’m going to be glowing forever.”

That’d be in the history books: Harry Potter died still glowing, because he already had everything he ever wanted and couldn’t make three wishes during the rest of his life time.

Not too bad of an ending, really.

“I’m showing.”

Harry was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. Draco was due in two months. Of course he was showing, the baby wasn’t going to hide forever. They had joked about how they’d look ridiculous together when their son was born since Harry would be glimmering.

Then a week ago it disappeared. Harry kept the last wish to himself. He wouldn’t know how to explain it anyway.

Oh, and despite it all, they were still together.

They weren’t sure how they made it through their first fight—about the baby, of course—but they did.

Who’s baby was it? Only Draco’s? Or theirs. Harry won that fight. He was there right from the beginning. It was theirs. There was no breaking up or Harry disappearing out of their child’s life.

“If you being the dad, then it’s forever. There’s no backing out—”

“I’ve already told you I want this a million times. Why can’t you trust me?”

“Because you never really wanted this—or you do but not me. If the baby is all you want, then be the dad. It doesn’t mean you have to be with me.”

It was a fight they kept having in circles. One day Draco would be fine and happy. The next Harry never wanted to be a father. The next Harry was only with Draco to be a father. Harry lost it and dragged Draco to the Healer.

“Find out who the other parent is.” Harry had a feeling, but didn’t want to say it. He needed to show Draco what he meant.

“It’s a magic baby, Mr Potter.”

“I know but just try. I know you can use magic to find, so just do it. Even with magic, you need two sets of DNA—”

The Healer cut him off by performing the spell. “It will show nothing. Mr Malfoy and Magic. Believe it or not, I’ve dealt with few magic babies in my time Mr Potter. See here: Mr Malfoy and Mr...Potter.”

Harry smiled at their gaping faces, but he didn’t glow any less. “It must have been the first wish.”

“What?” Draco and the Healer said at the same time.

“You got pregnant before you moved home. It took a few weeks for you to find out about it. My glow faded to this after you moved back—” Harry said to Draco and looked to the Healer. “Your colleague said himself that he was sure two were done. I have one wish left.”

After they left, Harry told Draco. “Now, I have legal rights to our child. I still want to be with you. The second wish was for you to come home. Or to be with me or something. I’m not sure exactly as I don’t really pick them. But, you are here with me and with my child, so this is clearly what I wanted. It could have been anyone.”

Draco couldn’t argue with magic.

“I really am going to glow forever so I hope you like it, because I really can’t think of anything else I want.”

“You couldn’t even think of this,” Draco said. “The magic had to give it to you before you even knew you wanted it.”

They had plenty more to make it through, though. Harry had his own insecurities about this whole thing. He’ll never know exactly what the wishes were. Draco had also been happy with his life before he left it all for Harry without ever knowing that was what he was doing.

But they made it through that as well, because Harry stopped glimmering.

Waking up one morning, Harry caught Draco staring at him.

“What’s wrong?”

Draco shook his head. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“Do not make fun of me for this.”

Harry laughed. “I won’t.”

“No, you’re already laughing.”

“I promise, come on.” Harry rolled over on top of Draco and brushed the hair off his forehead. “Just tell me.”

“How do I keep falling in love with you over and over again?”

“What do you mean?” Harry’s stomach dropped so sure it was the magic potion again.

“I keep falling in love with you over and over again.” Draco looked over Harry’s face; ran his fingers through his hair. “At Hogwarts. Then I’d force myself to stop thinking about you in the summer. I was over it. I was sure. Then I’d see you again—it’s back.

“During sixth year, I was so distracted. Sometimes I’d swear I was finally over it. Then you saved my life. The war ended. I was fine. Then I’d see you. I ran away and thought nothing of you for years. Then one day. I’m just thinking about my friends. Which lead me to think about Hogwarts. I can’t think about Hogwarts and not think about you.

“And then, suddenly I’m there again. It’s back. I’m in love with you and lying to myself about it.”

“At Hogwarts? Sixth year?” Harry asked.

“Yeah.”

And then Harry stopped glimmering.