Dark Moon Magic 5/8

[nicevenn]

Title: Dark Moon Magic 5/8
Pairing: Harry/Draco; James II/Scorpius
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 1,928
Disclaimer: Characters and HP universe belong to J.K. Rowling and associated publishers. This fiction is not intended for underage readers.
Warnings: mpreg; incest (half-brothers)
Summary: Draco's been keeping a secret, but he can't hide the truth forever.



Scorpius. His son. Harry’s mind hadn’t quite grasped it yet. Still, he had looked forward to seeing the bespectacled blonde boy at King’s Cross station. He had wanted to say something to him, but Scorpius’ downcast face and Draco’s absence made him abandon the idea. Perhaps Scorpius needed some more time to adjust—and to work things out with James.

Harry watched as his kids boarded the Hogwarts Express and waited until the train began to roll away before waving an awkward goodbye to Ginny and the replacement she had found for him. He didn’t head straight home as he’d planned. Draco’s absence worried him. Was Scorpius still blaming his
father for his unfortunate situation and cutting him out of his life? Draco had it coming, deceiving his own son for so long, but Harry felt sorry for him nevertheless. He decided to go see how Draco was holding up.

The mansion stood grey and imposing as Harry walked down the narrow lane toward it. He took his time, trying to calm his pounding heart. How was it that he’d been brave enough to face death at the hands of Voldemort, but was now jittery at the prospect of paying his ex-boyfriend a visit? As he approached the front door, Harry wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers. Moments later, Sparky the house-elf let him in and, after disappearing to check with his master, directed him to Draco’s study.

Draco didn’t seem to notice Harry enter. He sat on a settee, twirling a small bottle filled with what looked like liquid sunshine in his fingers. He looked tired and unusually pale. His blonde hair was nearly as messy as Harry’s.

“Hi,” said Harry.

Draco glanced up at him briefly.

“Hey.”

Harry sat down next to him even though another settee stood empty across from the coffee table. A glance from the empty table to the empty desk made him curious what Draco had been doing when he’d arrived. He was somewhat ashamed to realize that he didn’t know anything at all about what Draco got up to these days. He used to play Quidditch for the Falmouth Falcons, but he had retired after his wife’s fatal, work-related accident. Astoria had been an Unspeakable, so the circumstances of her death were kept secret. Harry wondered if Draco knew any more about it than he did.

“How have you been?” Harry asked, trying to sound curious rather than worried. Draco appeared to be in a dark mood; he also didn’t seem eager to answer the question.

“Not good,” he said at last, staring absently at the potion. “Scorpius hates me.”

“I seriously doubt that,” said Harry. “He just needs some time. He’ll come around.”

Draco pressed his lips together, thought for a while, and shook his head.

“You don’t think so?”

There was obviously something Draco didn’t want to tell him. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again, and continued to stare at the goddamn bottle at its contents as if his life depended on it.

“What is that?” Harry demanded, taking the bottle from Draco’s hands.

Now that he no longer had the potion, Draco finally turned to look at Harry. “He told me all of the things I once worried you’d say if I told you I was pregnant.”

Harry felt an unpleasant tightening in his center.

“What exactly did he say?”

Draco cringed. “He said I’m disgusting, unnatural. That he doesn’t know what the fuck I am-- his father or his mother.”

Harry scrunched his brow as he tried, but failed, to understand Scorpius’ reaction.

“I don’t get it. Why would he say something like that? Until just last week, he thought he was a pureblood who could get pregnant.”

Draco shrugged.

“That’s what I told him. He said that he paid attention to the phases of the moon, and used protection when necessary. Apparently he’s not cruel enough to subject someone to the kind of existence I imposed upon him with my carelessness.”

Draco said the last sentence in a snotty tone meant to mimic his son. But Harry couldn’t laugh. He couldn’t believe Scorpius would say such things to Draco or that he even had such thoughts. To Harry, the knowledge that Draco had given him a son was a source of awe, even if it had shocked him at first. It was amazing and beautiful. Harry wished he could summon up the courage to tell Draco he thought so.

“I didn’t bother to tell him that his conception wasn’t an accident,” Draco mumbled.

Harry’s jaw dropped. “What? You mean you planned it?”

Draco nodded.

“I don’t understand,” said Harry. “Why?”

Harry couldn’t identify the emotions he saw in Draco’s eyes as they searched his own. There were too many, all jumbled up.

“Because I was in love with you. And before I got scared, I had this stupid fantasy…”

Draco trailed off, shaking his head. Harry covered Draco’s hand with his own, squeezing it lightly.

“You weren’t the only one.”

They sat in silence for a while, and Draco turned his hand over, palm up, and interlaced their fingers. Harry wondered if he was even aware of doing it.

The yellow potion remained in Harry’s other hand. A few minutes had passed before he realized he was still holding it.

“What is this?” he asked again.

Draco at the bottle, then at him.

“A potion.”

“I’m not that dense.”

Draco exhaled heavily, as if the question was a great burden.

“It makes life easier to bear.” Seeing Harry’s eyes narrow, he added, “It’s perfectly legal. I get it from a healer.”

“Are you depressed?” Harry sounded worried.

“So they say.”

“How long have you been taking it?”

“Since shortly after Astoria died. Almost two years.”

This came as a shock to Harry. It made sense that Draco have taken such a potion it for a time after his wife’s death. But shouldn’t he have improved by now?

“Actually,” said Draco, “I stopped taking it last month. It just didn’t seem like it was working. But I feel even worse without it.”

Harry had no idea Draco was such a mess. He thought he should try to help him and wondered if he would be able to, or if Draco would even let him.

“Do you usually stay locked up in here?” Harry asked, looking around the luxuriously furnished, but dark room.

“Yes,” Draco admitted. “Scorpius was sometimes able to get me out of the house, but otherwise I don’t like to go anywhere.”

“You could probably use some sunshine, though,” said Harry.

“The sun hurts my eyes.”

“How about we go outside?” Harry persisted. “You can give me a tour of the grounds.”

Draco looked dubiously at Harry, who raised a brow.

“Unless you want me to leave so you can sit here and wallow in self-pity…”

“Fine,” Draco said, pulling his hand free from Harry’s. “What do you want to see?”

“James told me you have a hawk…I’d like to see him.”

Draco frowned, and Harry wondered if perhaps he shouldn’t have mentioned the bird, for whatever reason.

“Okay,” said Draco, “I’ll take you to the aviary, then.”


*****

Apollo flew onto the gauntlet protecting Draco’s extended arm as soon as they entered the large outdoor aviary and eagerly gobbled up the offered meat. When he was done, Draco brought him closer to Harry.’’

“Harry, meet Apollo.”

Harry stroked the hawk’s back tentatively with the back of his hand, but pulled back quickly when Apollo squawked and turned to face him.

“He’s beautiful,” said Harry. “But I would’ve thought you’d choose something fancier, like a Peregrine.”

“Apollo is a Harris’ Hawk. They’re common, true, but unlike other raptors, they’re fairly gregarious.”

“What a good match for you,” Harry teased.

“Come on, Apollo,” Draco said as he glared at Harry. “You need to spread your wings.” He stepped out of the aviary and Apollo took off. It was a breathtaking sight, watching him soar high above the ground.

“So he hunts on his own and comes back?”

“Yeah,” said Draco, his eyes watching the sky. “I used to take him hunting a lot, but I rarely do that anymore.”

“That’s too bad.”

“He does fine on his own,” said Draco, although he felt guilty for not spending more time with the bird.

“For you, I mean,” Harry said.

He stepped in front of Draco and slowly backed him into the wall of the aviary. Draco felt a fluttering in his stomach. It was a strange sensation, one he hadn’t felt in over a decade. Well, that wasn’t quite true, because he’d felt it about a quarter of an hour ago when he’d realized that he and Harry were holding hands. But he hadn’t felt it in over a decade before that.

Draco forced himself to meet those piercing green eyes. Harry was standing so close now, his hands resting on the aviary screen on either side of him.

Draco swallowed around the knot in his throat. “What are you doing?”

Harry was chewing his lower lip, and Draco couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight.

“Do you regret not telling me?” Harry asked, his eyes searching Draco’s face.

“That depends on whether or not you would have stayed with me.”

“You know I would have.”

“Then yes.”

Harry rested his forehead against Draco’s, his breath tickling his cheek and making his stomach do back flips.

“Do you?” Draco asked quietly.

“No, but only because I can’t imagine life without my children.”

Draco felt his heart plummet, but he wasn’t able to dwell on it because Harry was still breathing on his face and it was setting his skin on fire.

“I never got over you, though,” said Harry.He brushed his lips lightly against Draco’s, testing his reaction and making his head spin. Draco parted his mouth, inviting him in. Strong arms wrapped themselves tightly around Draco, and Harry’s lips pressed harder against his as his tongue slipped inside.

Draco was trembling. Shivers ran up his spine, one after another, and his legs turned to jelly as that tongue plundered his mouth. He had almost forgotten how easy it was to surrender to Harry. A moan escaped his lips when he realized that Harry’s erection was pressing into him and remembered how good it felt to have it inside him. Harry answered with a needy sound of his own, but then he pulled away, breathing heavily.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, his cheek resting against Draco’s. “You’re going through a difficult time. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“But I’m glad you did.”

Harry didn’t answer, but his lips grazed Draco’s jawline.

“Will you spend the night?” Draco asked hopefully, though he suspected the answer would be no.

Harry shook his head. “No.”

Despair coursed through Draco’s veins; he couldn’t keep it from showing on his face.

Harry lifted his chin. “I’ve taken advantage of you before, Draco.”

“I wanted you to.”

“I know,” said Harry, “but it wasn’t what you needed. You weren’t ready…”

“I’ve grown up.”

“So have I. And I want to do it right this time.”

The words surprised Draco. His mood lifted instantly as hope returned. “You mean you want to be with me?”

“Yes,” said Harry, “but I don’t want to rush into anything. Not when you’re in this state. I want to see you get better first.”

Draco nodded in agreement. “Alright. May be I should start by getting out more. You can treat me to dinner.”

Harry smiled. “I’d love to.”


Chapter 6