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Harry was the one that had really wanted to be parents.
Harry was the one who had watched his friends have babies, who had become a godfather for enough children that Draco sometimes lost count. He'd always been the first in line at the hospital to hold the wrinkly little newborns after their parents. He was always the one to come over with a casserole and a couple of hours to watch the wailing infants to give their parents a little time to shower and to nap.
It had been Harry who’d broached the subject with Draco, one drizzly autumn afternoon. Harry who’d asked if Draco might ever want a child, assuring him that his answer wouldn’t change how he felt about Draco. The thought had petrified Draco but it was also strangely appealing.
And it had been Harry who, when they really started talking seriously about having a baby, had volunteered to carry their first child. He'd been thrilled to carry their baby, bearing the morning sickness, and swollen ankles, and back pain with a smile, hands rubbing over his steadily growing belly.
Draco on the other hand had been terrified. Completely and utterly terrified.
While Harry had been making plans and dreaming about what being a father would be like, Draco had been busy imagining every little thing that could go wrong. He was constantly watching Harry, making sure there wasn't anything that could hurt him, he'd given him potions to help keep him healthy, he'd baby proofed their house the second month of Harry's pregnancy.
And still nothing could have prepared him for what it would be like to see Harry, exhausted and weak but positively glowing as he held their new born baby girl in his arms.
"Draco, look," he whispered, eyes filled with tears as he held out a hand to him.
It was his entire heart, his entire world narrowed down to these two people. And Draco couldn't breathe, his heart expanding so far that it didn't allow him to pull in a proper breath.
Still, he managed to take Harry's hand in his, to let Harry tug him over so that he was looking down at her.
"Look," Harry repeated, "Look at her, Draco. Look what we made," he said, cradling her to his chest.
He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the sweaty crown of Harry's head, "She's perfect," he whispered.
"Here," Harry said, shifting and lifting her toward him, "You hold her."
"Oh," Draco said nervously, hands hovering to be sure Harry didn't drop her (which was utterly ridiculous) but not reaching to take her. "I'm not sure-"
Harry took her back and Draco sighed with relief. "Come here," Harry said, scooting over to make room for him, "Sit with me."
Draco did as the other man asked, how could he refuse? And once he was settled next to them, Harry carefully transferred her to Draco's arms and suddenly he was holding her. "Oh Circe," he breathed. "Harry. She's perfect."
Harry's arm wrapped around him and he hooked his chin over Draco's shoulder. "She is," he agreed, stroking his fingers over her dark curls.
"She looks so like you," Draco said, admiring her perfect, lovely bronze skin, head already full of curls that Draco couldn’t wait to learn to plait and style, and perfect little lips and nose.
"Adhara," Harry whispered, brushing his forefinger over cheek.
"You're not supposed to wake a sleeping baby," Draco said.
Harry ignored him, "Open your eyes, just for a minute," he murmured.
Slowly, her forehead scrunching, her eyes blinked open and Draco was struck speechless. She stared up at him and Draco could hardly see her face through the tears flooding his eyes.
"She has your eyes," Harry whispered, pressing a kiss to Draco's cheek.
"I-" he started, voice choked. He turned and kissed Harry, "I love you," he said. "And I love her," he said looking back down at the most miraculous thing he'd ever seen, "More than life itself."
"You're going to be a great dad," Harry whispered, still sensing Draco's fears of inadequacy.
Adhara started fussing and Harry took her back so he could feed her.
And all Draco could do was stare at his whole world, silently vowing to do his best for both of them for the rest of his life.