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The day Ginny announced to them that she was pregnant was the happiest day of Harry’s life. It edged out his second happiest day, which was when Ginny and Draco tied themselves to him in magical marriage.
They’d both looked beautiful that day. Ginny in a gown of flowing white, setting off the fire of her hair. She’d looked like a candle, ready to light up the rest of their days.
Draco’s sharp, black suit had emphasised his lean frame and muscled arms. His hair had also shone. Long, white-blond locks braided down his back. Ginny had tied it for him. She tied them all together.
They told Harry he’d also looked beautiful that day. Dark skin and darker hair poured into a black suit matching Draco’s. Harry’s bulkier frame shown off to best advantage. His hair was as wild as ever, though. Tight black coils reaching for the sky in a riot all over his head.
They made quite a gorgeous trio. Everyone said so (even The Prophet after it got over the scandal of Draco being introduced to the Harry/Ginny pairing).
But nothing compared to Ginny when she was pregnant. The pregnancy glow illuminated her from the inside out. She was dazzling, radiant, incandescent. The soft swell of her belly, the brightness of her eyes, the flush of her cheeks. She was the most magnificent thing Harry had ever laid eyes on besides Draco.
His husband. His wife. And their expanding life and family together.
Harry could admit that he probably doted on his husband and his wife a bit too much. Ginny was fiercely independent and enjoyed being taken care of, but could handle herself just fine. Growing up with all brothers had taught her to be strong and capable. Draco could handle himself, but enjoyed being taken care of much more. His posh upbringing had taught him to expect to be treated a certain way, and Harry didn’t mind indulging him. Harry still wasn’t used to being taken care of at all, his childhood teaching him to rely almost solely on himself. In return, his partners showered him with love and affection rather than manual help usually, something he was still growing accustomed to. But they took his emotional well-being seriously. Theirs was an odd dynamic and mix of personalities, but it worked for them.
But if the guys tried to spoil Ginny as much as she’d allow before, it was nothing to how much they catered to her now. She complained, insisted on her independence still, but gave in when the pregnancy woes overcame her. Sore back and feet. Morning sickness. Stretch marks. Constantly full bladder.
Harry and Draco would keep her from lifting so much as a finger if she would let them, so they took care of her as much as they could when she permitted it. They were an affectionate bunch and loved each other to distraction.
No one knew who the father of the baby was, and it didn’t matter. They were all married and the baby was a part of all of them. They sometimes imagined what a baby would look like with an assortment of their features, mixing traits from all of them in one child. Ginny’s freckles. Harry’s green eyes. Draco’s platinum hair. Or maybe Harry’s unruly mop of tight curls but with Ginny’s fiery colour and Draco’s silver eyes. Draco’s aristocratic nose and chin with Ginny’s wavy hair and skin as near black as Harry’s.
Beautiful. Each iteration of their baby they imagined, it was beautiful. They fell in love with all the possibilities and could hardly wait to see what they got. And they knew that when the baby actually arrived, it would be even more beautiful than they could have ever imagined. No matter what their baby looked like, they were simply anxious to meet it in all its perfection.
It wasn’t until Ginny’s baby shower at the Manor that they learned not everyone felt so. It had taken some time for Ginny and Draco’s parents to coexist in a room together, but after a rocky start, they got on just fine. There was still occasionally some sarcastic words thrown here or there, but it was a better relationship than the throuple had ever dared hope for in the beginning. The way was much more readily eased by them bringing out Lucius’s goblin wine. Exceedingly rare and exorbitantly priced, it was the best stuff on the market. Lucius grumbled about having to share it, but his complaints died down after a glass or two had him delightfully sloshed.
Ginny was tired of mingling and decided to sit down off her swollen feet. Draco was tending to her and they’d sent Harry to retrieve their collective parents from the parlour where they’d snuck away with their expensive drinks. It was time for gifts and all three incoming parents were ready to see what their friends and family were going to spoil their little one with.
Harry had just arrived outside of the parlour when he caught the prospective grandparents talking about the baby and what they’d look like. When he caught what they were saying, he stopped in his tracks, out of sight of the room’s occupants.
“I hope the baby inherits Draco’s eyes,” Narcissa said. “He’s always had such lovely eyes, like his father.”
Molly giggled, clearly a bit pissed. “Ginny’s eyes are very pretty, but I admit that there is something about the shade of Draco’s that’s very attractive. Eye catching.”
There was smugness at the compliment in Lucius’s voice when he responded. “If the baby gets my eyes, they also need my platinum hair. Grey eyes would look ghastly with your red hair.”
Arthur chuckled. “And I want the baby to have Ginny’s hair, Draco’s eyes, and Ginny’s freckles, just to see the look on your face.”
Lucius spluttered indignantly while Arthur, Molly, and Narcissa laughed at him. They continued on, throwing out combinations of Draco and Ginny that they thought would look good or terrible in the baby and enjoying upsetting Lucius with ever wilder amalgamations of genes, dominant from their children and recessive from ancestors long past.
Harry didn’t laugh outside the door. Not one of the grandparents even speculated what the baby would look like with some of Harry’s features mixed with Ginny’s. Ginny and Draco were beautiful, of course, and the baby would be gorgeous with any combination of features from both of them, but their baby would look good with Harry green eyes, too. Or the dimples Harry had seen from pictures in his father’s cheeks. Or the darkness of Harry’s skin that glowed in the right light. Was his skin colour what made the grandparents not even contemplate a baby with his features?
Harry eventually had enough and shrank away from the door and retreated back to the room with his spouses. He stopped in the doorway, not ready to go in yet nor wanting to bring the room’s mood down with his negative emotions. Draco and Ginny were laughing and snacking on finger foods, waiting for Harry and the grandparents to arrive before they dove into the gifts. Ginny looked up and smiled as she caught his eye, but whatever expression was on his face had her smile dropping. Harry tried to paste on his own smile, but it felt like a forced, fragile thing, and he knew it wouldn’t fool someone who knew him so well.
Ginny turned her attention to Draco and he bent down to hear what she was saying to him, before his focus also turned to Harry and his eyes darkened in concern. Draco helped heave Ginny out of her chair and they waved off their family and friends surrounding them asking where they were off to and if they needed help.
Ginny had Draco guide her out of the room and she grasped Harry’s arm as they exited. Harry tried to utter a protest, saying they didn’t need to leave the party, but Ginny shot him a determined look and Harry knew nothing would sway her from getting what she wanted when she looked like that.
They arrived at another parlour and closed the door before both Draco and Ginny turned to Harry.
“Alright, what’s wrong?” Ginny asked.
Harry grimaced, not really wanting to get into his own insecurities on such a celebratory day. He shifted his eyes so he didn’t have to look at his partners.
“Oh no, we’re not doing that today,” Ginny told him sternly, clearly reading his intention to dodge the question from his evasive eye placement.
Harry felt Draco grab his hand and Harry looked down at their twined fingers.
“What happened, love?” Draco questioned, voice much more cajoling than Ginny’s.
Harry fidgeted a bit before looking up to meet their eyes. Draco looked sympathetic, like he was ready to comfort Harry, while Ginny’s face was set in a challenge, ready to go to battle with whoever put the look on Harry’s face to begin with. She was even scarier than usual because she was pregnant and her loyalty and protective instincts had only heightened with the baby coming. Harry cracked a smile at them being so true to form. He loved his spouses immensely.
“I was going to get your parents when I heard them talking about the baby and what they’d look like, combining your features into this beautiful or beautifully-ridiculous looking child,” Harry said.
Draco and Ginny exchanged a look before Ginny shrugged.
“And? We do that all the time. We’re all curious what the baby will look like,” she reminded him.
“Yeah,” Harry confirmed, “but they never once mentioned the baby having any of my features. No one knows which one of us got you pregnant, but it was like Draco was the only possibility.”
“Or the only one they wanted to be possible,” Harry added, voice lowering.
It took a second, but both Draco and Ginny’s eyes widened when they understood what Harry was fearing. Draco’s eyes softened again and he squeezed Harry’s hand still in his, and Ginny’s eyes blazed with indignation.
“You think they don’t want you to be the father because you’re Black?” she demanded.
Harry shrugged. “I dunno. It wouldn’t be the first time people have hoped Draco was the father, or that if I was, the baby’s skin would be light.”
“But you’re the Saviour of the Wizarding World!” Ginny argued.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean the people love that I’m Black. The public’s opinion of me has been fickle ever since Hogwarts and a lot of that pushback was because of my skin colour. Racism and prejudice runs deep in our society. They like me when I’m useful or as a means for their gossip or entertainment, but that high regard often stops when I stop doing those things.”
“But both our parents love you, Harry,” Draco reasoned.
“They do,” he acknowledged, “but that doesn’t mean they’re immune to societal ideals of what is standard or right, or what they want for their legacy. And they’re pureblood, so tradition and history and standards are important to them. They can say and act like they love me and still feel it’s despite my Blackness. They may be some of those ‘I don’t see colour’ people.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “I hate that phrase. If people don’t see colour, they are also blind to the struggles you face and prejudices you have to fight against simply because other people do see colour and are intolerant to anyone different than themselves.”
Ginny fumed. “And what did they say when you confronted them?”
Harry shrugged again. “I didn’t. This is our baby shower and they are your parents. I don’t want to upset anyone today and ruin our party.”
Ginny shook her head. “They’re your family, too. They’re the ones about to experience an upset if that’s the way they really think about you.”
And with that she turned and marched out of the room, heading for the parlour where the grandparents were still gabbing and indulging in their expensive wine. Draco followed after her, but stopped in the main hall to tell their guests that they’d be back with them shortly for presents. Harry trailed behind the two, not really looking forward to this discussion. It was so much emotional labour to talk about race and especially to try and educate people and hold space for himself. He was tempted to bring Hermione into the discussion. Her mixed heritage had her going over many of the same talks with people, though she was much more proficient and tolerant than Harry at educating people about stigmas and biases and systemic racism. Harry usually didn’t have it in him.
When Harry arrived in the parlour with the grandparents, Ginny was already arguing with Molly about Harry being the potential biological father.
“Of course the baby will be beautiful if Harry fathered it, too, Ginny! But is there something so wrong with us wanting the baby to resemble us?” Molly countered.
“Of course not,” Ginny said. “But it shouldn’t matter what it looks like. The baby can be as dark as Harry and it wouldn’t make any difference.”
When Narcissa and Lucius delicately grimaced, Ginny started in on a full rant on internal bias. Draco arrived at the room and joined Ginny in defending Harry and their unborn child.
It was draining, but it made Harry smile slightly. It was one thing to have partners who loved you, whatever your ethnicity, but it was another thing to have partners who did not only the internal work to correct their own biases, but also called out the biases in others and the systems that perpetuated them. There were stigmas and prejudices that were ingrained in society and older generations and it was a constant job to make sure thoughts and opinions weren’t based off of false information.
In the end, the grandparents apologised to Harry for any hurt they may have caused him and acknowledged that they still had some growing to do unlearning a lot of things. Harry understood. The younger generations still had some unlearning to do and they were way ahead of the game than older people who were more set in their ways.
Still, he was glad the issue was out in the open and discussed. He wanted his children loved whatever they looked like, and especially if they looked like him. They would face untold prejudice from the outside world and they didn’t need it from their grandparents, too. They would need all the love, support, encouragement, and affirmations they could get from their family right at home.
And looking at his spouses, Ginny looking vindicated and Draco smiling proudly, Harry was sure their children would get just that.