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Title: His Daughter’s Father



Author: Constant Vigilance

Disclaimer: JK Rowling is God. I own nothing.

Distribution: Sure. Just lemme know where my baby’s going.

Spoilers: Up to GoF. Book 5 never happened. *Growls at Rowling*

Summary: Baby flutters and Valentine Dances.

Dedication: To Vicky Lansky, the editor of the Complete Pregnancy and Baby Book. Cause my own pregnancy was spent vomiting and wishing I were dead and thus I really haven’t the proper perspective to write about a ‘normal’ pregnancy.


School was back in session. Christmas break ended way too quickly for Harry. He sighed as he eased into his seat in Potions. So much for pleasant, kind Snape. There was no way the most feared professor in the history of Hogwarts was going to give up his title just to be nice to Harry Potter. Which was quite sad in Harry’s opinion, as the professor had really grown on the Gryffindor in the past few weeks.


He’d come to enjoy the times he spent with Snape, both with the Malfoys and alone. Snape wasn’t nearly so horrible as he liked to pretend. The only thing that kept Harry from despair as he pulled his potions book out was the knowledge of Siffy sitting on his bed in the dorm. He had to keep in mind that no matter how Snape acted in public, he’d seen the real man behind the glare…and he liked him.


Draco swept into the classroom and Harry bit back a snigger. He recognized that swirl of robe. In fact, in just a second the originator of the swirl would follow---yep. Right on time. Snape stalked up the aisle, his robe arms whirling around his body as he waved his wand and the directions for today’s potion appeared on the board. Draco frowned at Harry’s mirth but pulled his own book out and began taking notes.


Harry dipped his quill in his inkpot and shook his head fondly.



Harry stretched with a grimace. Potions hadn’t been too terrible. Snape had actually made a change in plans as soon as he realized the smell of burning devil’s snare was making Harry ill. He allowed the boy to sit at the back of the room and write an essay on the plant and it’s potions properties. Not exactly what Harry would call a better option, but the fact that Snape thought of it at all was nice.


As Harry’s arms came down the baby moved. She’d been doing that quite a bit lately, usually it was tiny butterfly movements. This time, though, she must have rolled over or done a jumping jack or something because there was no way to miss this movement. And it tickled. He giggled. Every eye in the class was on him. He flushed darkly and dropped his head.


Then she moved again. He couldn’t help it. He giggled again.


“Mr. Potter,” Snape said drolly. “Is something amusing?”


Harry glanced up. The professor looked put upon, but not angry. He felt a bit of courage. “No, sir. It’s just that…” he gestured to his waist. “She moved.”


Squeals erupted from the females in the room. Even the Slytherins. Harry was amused to see the normally staid girls blush and school their features into something that projected ‘fuck you. I didn’t just get wiggly over Harry Potter’s baby.’


The Gryffindors nearly launched themselves out of their chairs, only Snape’s glare held them still. Draco seemed to be unaffected by his potential stepfather’s anger. He was out of the chair and at Harry’s side in less time than it took for Harry to finish the sentence.


“Are you okay, Harry?” he asked worriedly. Harry heard a snort of derision from a Slytherin and an ‘aww’ from somewhere around Lavender and Parvati.


Snape sighed in resignation. “Do calm down, Mr. Malfoy,” he drawled. “Mr. Potter is approximately 4 to 5 months along. It’s perfectly normal for the fetus to move at this stage. Granted,” he added thoughtfully, “it should be only a small flutter. You seem to have spawned a child that may be as unique as yourself, Mr. Potter.”

Harry eyed the professor warily, but Snape merely looked interested.


“Can…can I feel it?” Draco whispered.


Harry smiled up at him. “I dunno,” he returned. “It was pretty hard to me, but then I’m center stage here,” he grinned. “You can try if you like.” Draco looked torn between delight and horror. He didn’t even pay attention to the jeers from the Slytherins and the cheers from the Gryffindors.


Snape snorted. “Oh, please Mr. Malfoy. You’ve already disturbed my lesson beyond the point of salvation. Do feel free to paw Mr. Potter.” He leaned back against his desk with a smirk.


Draco set his mouth in determination and stared at Harry’s stomach. He slipped his hand into Harry’s robe, resting it on the cotton t-shirt below. Harry moved his hand by gently grasping his wrist and setting it over the spot his daughter had rolled against a moment ago. Chairs scraped all through the classroom as students gathered around the back table.


Draco closed his eyes, focusing on feeling for any movement. Harry felt the baby roll again and giggled, not only at the feeling but also at the look on Draco Malfoy’s face. The blonde’s eyes popped open in shock and his eyes locked on Harry’s. His mouth opened in a silent ‘O’ and he brought his other hand up to cup Harry’s burgeoning belly.


“You’re pregnant,” he breathed.


Harry chuckled. “What gave you the first idea?” he joked.


Draco’s eyes became shiny with unshed tears. “She’s really in there,” he whispered. Harry nodded and felt that warm fuzzy feeling in his chest that he had come to associate with Draco. He and the Slytherin locked eyes and he didn’t even notice when the Gryffindors began clustering around him to touch as well.



Hermione sighed and leaned against the wall. “Please, Harry? Just for a little while?” she called through the door. “You don’t have to dance, you don’t have to even enjoy yourself.”


“No! I’m hideous. I’m fat and ugly and certainly not masculine enough at this point to ask anyone to go with me.”


Hermione fought the urge to kick the door. “You don’t have to go with anyone, Harry. And you are not fat and hideous and ugly. You’re pregnant.”


“A rose is a rose is a rose, Mione. And of course I have to go with someone. It’s a bloody Valentines’ dance. You remember? Valentines’ Day? The day for lovers and couples?”


Harry’s voice became muffled and Hermione guessed he’d shoved his head under the pillow again. She stomped down to the common room and kicked the couch in irritation. Neville jerked his legs up just in time to keep from developing a Mione foot-shaped bruise. “Still no luck?” he asked sympathetically.


She sighed and flung herself into a chair. “No.”


“Fat, ugly and hideous?” Ginny grinned.


Hermione nodded, eyes closed. “And the fact that Valentines’ Day is for couples and he’s not masculine enough to ask anyone to go with him.”


The portrait swung open to reveal Draco chatting animatedly with Ron. Hermione smiled at the sight of her boyfriend making nice with Malfoy. It had taken a bit, but he was really coming around to the idea that Draco wasn’t the devil incarnate. The overly solicitous attitude—read obsessive—towards Ron’s best friend had much to do with it, but Hermione could tell that Ron was beginning to like Draco on his own merits. Not that she’d ever mention that. She’d like to continue snogging Ron, thank you very much.


“Maybe Draco can talk some sense into him?” Dean pointed out.


“Talking sense?” Draco grinned. “I see you need me to convince Harry of something.”


Hermione smiled wryly. “He refuses to go the Valentine’s Day dance.”


“Ah,” Draco nodded. “Yeah, I’ll try.” He bounded up to the 7th year dorms and pushed the door open. “Hey,” he smiled fondly, looking at Harry playing ostrich under his pillow. “Whatcha doing?”


“Sulking,” came the muffled reply.


Draco grinned. “I heard.”


Harry poked his head up. “So, you’ve been sent to force me to go?”


Draco shook his head. “You know I wouldn’t force you to do anything,” he pointed out disapprovingly.


Harry sighed and sat up. “I know. I’m just feeling…well, ugly. And alone.” He tugged his pillow up to cover his belly. “Everyone had someone to go with. Mione and Ron. Seamus and Dean. Neville and Ginny. I just…” he sighed and leaned back. “I dunno.”


Draco crawled up on the bed with him and tugged the pillow away. He rucked up Harry’s shirt and leaned his cheek onto Harry’s stomach, a position that was quickly becoming his favorite anytime he and Harry were alone. Harry smiled. Secretly, it was his favorite position as well. “Well,” Draco said, practically purring against Harry’s skin, “I’m going. And I don’t have a date.”


Harry clenched his hand into a fist to keep from running it through the blonde’s hair. “But you…are you. And I…am pregnant,” he said bitterly.


Draco snorted. “So?”


Harry sighed. “Never mind.”


Draco looked up. “Bullshit. Tell me.”


Harry looked away, out the window. “I’m used goods, Draco,” he murmured. “I know you think I’m being stupid,” he rushed to say before Draco could add anything derogatory. “But it’s how I feel. I’m 17. I’ve never had a girlfriend or boyfriend. Yet, I’m going to have a baby. I lost my childhood to Voldemort. Now I’m losing my chance to find a partner.” His voice got small. “Who’s going to want a pregnant, male teenager? Who’s going to want the Boy Who Never Got a Chance to Live?”


Draco felt his heart breaking for the beautiful boy in front of him. He wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to worry. Draco would take him in a heartbeat. He’d hold him and love him and make him feel like the most cherished being on earth. What came out was, “Harry, would you go to the dance with me?”


Harry looked startled. He opened his mouth to reply and Draco hurried to continue. “Really. I want to go with you. Not just cause I feel sorry for you, cause you know that I don’t. I just…I just want to go with you.” He held his breath, watching the emotions flit over Harry’s face.


“You really want to be seen with me?” Harry asked warily.


Draco smiled. “It would be an honor.”


Harry smiled…and it was like the sun came out. “Yeah, okay,” he said shyly.



“I changed my mind!” Harry flung himself on the bed. “I can’t go. I look like a whale.”


Ron eyed his best friend spread over the bed and then the door, wondering whether he’d have to brave the girls’ ‘getting ready’ period to get Harry up and moving. “C’mon, Harry,” he gave it one last shot, because interrupting a make-up and hair-do ritual? No thank you! “Draco wants to see you.”


Harry snorted. “That shouldn’t be a problem. He’ll see me. Everyone will see me. People in Australia will see me. People from the bloody moon can see me!”


“Er, there’s really no one on the moon to see you…but I understand what you mean,” Ron quickly searched for a save at the scathing look Harry shot in his direction. Oh, for fucks sake, he thought. What’s worse? A herd of hairspray wielding women? Or one hormonal male? “Do you really want to disappoint him?” he tried again. “He’s been talking about it for a week.”


Harry flopped over, his belly sticking up to the ceiling. “He’s been talking about the Cannons winning the World Cup too, and that isn’t likely to happen,” he snapped. Ron looked hurt.


“Now there’s no need to be hateful, Harry,” he protested.


Harry sighed. “I know. I’m sorry. I just can’t figure why he would want to be seen with this,” he waved his hand towards his stomach.


Ron frowned and moved closer. “I think you’re missing the point here, Harry,” he chastised. “He wants to be seen with this…” he waved his hand over Harry’s entire body, from head to toe. “He doesn’t care about this…” he swirled his hand over Harry’s belly, “except that it’s a part of you.”


He was surprised when Harry burst into tears and lunged up to wrap his arms around Ron’s waist. “There, there,” Ron said shakily, patting Harry awkwardly on the back. What the hell? He thought miserably.


Harry sniffed and pulled back with a watery smile. “Hermione is one lucky lady,” he said with a quaver. “All right. Help me decide how to do my hair.” And with that, the crisis was averted.


~Women. ~ Ron sighed.



Draco waited at the foot of the common room steps watching as couple after couple came down the stairs or met each other at the portrait hole. Ginny appeared at the top and she smiled down at him. “He’s coming,” she whispered. “He’s just a little nervous.” Draco nodded.


“You look lovely, Ginny,” he added. She flushed a pretty pink and ducked her head.


“Thank you, Draco,” she murmured. She was about to return the compliment when she noticed that she’d completely lost his attention. She turned to the top of the stairs with a wry smirk. Sure enough, there stood Harry, resplendent in hunter green robes and a smile. She quietly took her leave and met up with Neville at the door.


Draco realized that he was being completely rude, but he couldn’t seem to care. Harry glowed. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were bright. He looked healthier than he’d looked in months, and best yet…he looked happy.


“You are gorgeous,” Draco breathed.


“What?” Harry asked, descending the stairs. “I didn’t catch that.”


Draco blushed and shook his head quickly. “You look very nice,” he said instead. He heard a snicker from behind him and he realized that half the bloody house had heard his first remark. Shit! He chose to ignore them for the moment and stepped forward instead. He held out his arm and smiled when Harry carefully wound his fingers around it.


“Thank you,” Harry said shyly. “You look really great too.”


“You ready?”


Harry nodded and they made their way to the Great Hall.


The room practically froze when they walked in. Strategically placed glares by the Gryffindors got things moving before Harry could feel uncomfortable, though. Draco led Harry to a table and seated him before heading off to retrieve punch and some snacks for him. Harry smiled his thanks when Draco slid into his seat carrying a small meal in party napkins.


“Your mom just walked in,” he pointed out around a mouthful of cracker. Draco turned to see Narcissa floating in like an angel. He smiled and waved to get her attention. She made her way to their table and snagged a cracker off of Harry’s napkin.


“You both are looking very dashing tonight,” she said, munching.


“As are you, Narcissa,” Harry acknowledged.


“You are the most lovely creature in the room, mother,” Draco took her hand and kissed it. “Save one,” he added saucily, inclining his head towards Harry.


Narcissa smiled fondly as Harry blushed and began stammering. “I must agree with you, Mr. Malfoy,” came a cultured drawl. They turned to see Snape approach their table, wearing a three quarter length dress cloak and heavy dress robes.


“Severus,” Narcissa said delightedly. She leaned over and kissed his cheek in welcome.


“Narcissa,” he inclined his head. “Would you like to dance?” She nodded happily and followed him onto the dance floor.


Harry smiled watching them. “They make a nice couple,” he said.


Draco nodded, pulling his eyes from his mother and Snape to eye Harry. “I know someone else who looks good together,” he smirked.


Harry rolled his eyes playfully. “Really? And who would that be?”


Draco stood and pulled Harry up with him. “Let me show you.”


The rest of the night was spent gently swaying in each other’s arms. The tempo of the music didn’t seem to matter. They danced to their own music, and that music required them to stay tightly embraced. Every now and then, Draco would demand that Harry sit down and rest his feet or have a snack. Harry allowed himself to be pushed around because Draco looked so damn cute worrying over him.


Eventually, he stared regretfully at the dance floor and sighed. “I think I’m done for, Draco,” he said. Immediately, Draco gathered their belongings together and captured Harry’s arm again.


“Let’s get you to bed then. You need to rest.”


Draco led him to the common room and tried to take him up to the dorm.


“No,” Harry protested sleepily. “I want to stay down here. You aren’t allowed up in the dorm.”


Draco hesitated. “You want me to stay?”


Harry collapsed on the couch and held out his arms like a small child. “Mmmhmmm,” he managed.


Draco carefully placed their cloaks on a chair and sat down beside him. Harry immediately snuggled up against his side and fell asleep. Draco sat for the longest time, reveling in the feeling of Harry Potter asleep against him. Even the best things must end, however, and soon he fell asleep as well.


Neither woke an hour later when a horde of Gryffindors poured into the common room. Of course, as soon as they saw the two boys curled up around each other, they became as quiet as mice. Hermione smiled softly as she covered them with a blanket and extinguished the lights with a word.