Start of the third trimester, 28 weeks pregnant.
Harry had entered the third trimester at the same time exams began. It was also the first week of summer, and Harry could finally go without all the coats and hats, feeling warm enough in a long-sleeved shirt and a single thin sweatshirt, while Ron and Hermione wore only short-sleeved T-shirts.
He was tiring easily, everything gave him lower-back aches, his old clothes didn't fit, and the only things he could wear right now were the clothes Draco had gifted him. On top of that, he wanted to get rid of every staircase in the castle.
Harry was getting a little worried about the size of his belly, it wasn't as big as the pregnant women he'd seen out on the streets. Of course, it wasn't small or unnoticeable, none of his clothes fit anymore, and they had already been loose before, but still, he thought it looked small.
Healer Hawthorne had said that, at his stage, it was common to gain between 7 and 9 kilos, but Harry had only gained 5. The Gryffindor became so obsessed with it that he forced himself to eat a bit more than he was used to, adding a little extra to every meal no matter how awful it made him feel, until it reached the point where he ended up vomiting in secret after dinner.
The only thing he got after that was an iron supplement and instructions to rest whenever he wasn't in class. Draco kept a closer eye on him, but unlike the beginning of the pregnancy, now it was something Harry actually found comforting. Draco was comforting.
Harry couldn't believe the blond had set up an entire room for him in his own flat. He'd only gotten a room of his own with the Dursleys when he was already twelve, and that had been out of fear of what might happen to them if they didn't. The Weasleys treated Ron's room as his as well, Molly and Arthur had even referred to it as theirs a few times. And then he inherited Grimmauld Place and thought he'd never have to worry about that again. But of course Draco not only had to set aside a room for him to spend a few nights in for James's sake, but decorate the whole thing in Gryffindor colors.
It was a Thursday, the last class before lunch, and their final Potions lesson before the N.E.W.T. exam scheduled for the next day. It was the very last Potions class he would ever have at Hogwarts, and Professor Slughorn was going over the last of the students' questions.
And the only thing Harry could focus on was Draco Lucius Malfoy.
The Slytherin was looking down, pale strands falling against pale skin, a veined hand gripping the quill that scratched over parchment. He wasn't wearing the cloak or any jumper from the uniform, only the white shirt, the Sectumsempra scar visible on his neck, and his sleeves rolled up, but only to the point where the Dark Mark would have shown, keeping it hidden.
"You'd do better in Potions if you paid attention," Draco murmured, and Harry smiled.
"Yeah, I know," he agreed, still admiring the taller boy, who then turned to look at him.
"How about paying attention, then? The exam is tomorrow," Draco said, pointing the tip of his quill at Harry's parchment.
"Draco, you know fifty more minutes of review won't make me pass if I don't already know enough," Harry retorted, feeling a bit grumpy as he looked away from the Slytherin and down at his own parchment, which held only three notes.
The little pout on his lips vanished when he felt a quick kiss land on his cheek. He turned to Draco, catching the faint flush on his cheeks, and had to stifle his laugh when Zabini tossed a crumpled paper ball at the blond, probably for having witnessed the gesture. Draco turned around and flipped off the pair behind them, and Nott stuck his tongue out at him, which made Harry snicker softly.
"Mr. Potter, don't make me regret switching your partner in our last class, you were quieter when paired with the Gryffindors," Slughorn scolded.
Harry laughed again, covering his face, fully aware that every seventh- and eighth-year Gryffindor and Slytherin was staring at him.
"Sorry, Professor," he said, glancing at Draco, who had that familiar teasing smile Harry had always seen, only now softened with a fondness Harry was slowly learning to accept "Shut up," he muttered, rolling his eyes.
"I didn't say anything," Draco replied, raising his hands in mock surrender.
"Harry Potter as a Slytherin," Nott snickered from behind them.
Harry grabbed a scrap of parchment, crumpled it, and turned, tossing the paper ball straight at the Slytherin's face. Nott wobbled on the bench and nearly fell, making a loud clatter.
"Mr. Potter," Slughorn called once more, "next time I'll take points from Gryffindor," he warned, before turning back to the board.
Harry heard a soft laugh and glanced sideways, seeing Draco hide his face while chuckling quietly. His gaze then drifted to Ron, now paired with Hermione, and he noticed the faint, almost imperceptible smile on his lips as he watched Harry. When the redhead realized Harry was looking at him, his smile widened before he turned to Hermione when she called him.
Harry turned back to the front, instantly regretting it. He still had his Care of Magical Creatures N.E.W.T. after lunch, then Transfiguration. If he didn't focus soon, his brain would melt long before his therapy session later.
He reached into his bag for his black gel pen and tugged gently at Draco's left hand, catching the Slytherin's attention, but ignored it, beginning to doodle some small branches on the pale skin. He thought Draco might complain, but the Slytherin simply let him, allowing Harry to ease his boredom by marking him.
It wasn't much, just a few loose branches, a Golden Snitch with wings spread, and a small attempt at drawing the white quill Draco had been using. Harry let out a relieved sigh when the professor finally dismissed them, and he practically jumped from the bench.
"Harry, you could at least try to pay attention, you know?" Hermione scolded when she caught up with him.
"Sure, as if a N.E.W.T. could stop any of the three of us from getting a job," Ron said, rolling his eyes while helping Draco gather Harry's things, and Harry had to blink twice to make sure he wasn't imagining it.
"Mione, how many exams do you have after lunch?" he asked calmly, and she frowned.
"Just Transfiguration," she replied.
"We've got Care of Magical Creatures before Transfiguration," Nott said, and Hermione's eyes went wide.
"What? That's next class? Why didn't you tell me? What did you use to study? Please don't tell me Hagrid's notes, you know he doesn't make the exam, right?" Hermione fired off, worried.
"Mione, relax. I've got this exam covered. But honestly, if I open a book right now, I swear my brain's going to leak out of my ears," Harry soothed, holding her shoulders until she took a deep breath.
"Why didn't you put that much effort into my Divination exam?" Ron asked, sounding resigned as he let Draco carry the rest of Harry's things.
"That shouldn't even count as a subject, Ronald," Hermione snapped, and Harry laughed.
"Can we go? I'd love a slice of Treacle Tart," he said, noticing that Draco's friends were all staring at him now too.
"Let's go," Draco said, urging everyone to leave the classroom, and no one complained. In fact, Harry thought if they could conjure a slice of Treacle Tart right there, they would have done it.
"Do you think they'll make us do some kind of non-magical intervention?" Nott asked, and Harry looked at him.
"Maybe, especially considering the war," he shrugged, noticing the Slytherin sigh in frustration. "It's not complicated, just think about what you'd do if, for some bloody reason, you didn't have your wand and couldn't perform magic without it," he tried to reassure him. "Or if you had a wand that definitely doesn't like you," he murmured, remembering the wand Ron had given him when they reunited during the war, after retrieving Godric Gryffindor's sword.
"Ever used one like that?" Zabini asked.
"I tried one during the war, I nearly set the tent on fire," Harry shrugged.
"I was more scared Hermione would find out than the fire itself," Ron murmured.
"Harry, you used my wand for weeks, what wand are you talking about? What fire?" Hermione asked, and Ron smiled at her, hugging her.
"Nothing, my love. Just remind me again what I can't forget for the Transfiguration N.E.W.T.," he teased, and Harry laughed, rubbing his belly.
"Did you get another one after the war?" Zabini asked, clearly interested.
"No, I…" Harry glanced at his wand, always within reach, then at Draco, who was watching him. "Did I ever thank you for it?" he asked, holding up Draco's old wand.
"Didn't think you still used it," Draco shrugged, staring at the wand.
Harry held it out to him, and Draco hesitated, glancing from Harry's eyes to the wand twice before taking it, seeming to recall its weight.
"I can buy another one if you want it back," Harry said, and Draco shook his head, returning it.
"The loyalty isn't mine anymore, it's more useful being used with you than sitting in a drawer," he replied, sounding as indifferent as he was honest.
"Harry," Luna's voice called, and he saw her running toward them, she must have just left her Transfiguration N.E.W.T. "Have you seen the papers?" she asked, and Harry realized he missed the dreamy tone of her voice.
"No, you know I avoid the Daily Prophet. I only read it when I need to, usually I stick with The Quibbler," he said, smiling at the Ravenclaw.
"That's very kind of you, Harry, even if it's a lie," she said, and Harry laughed, he had missed her. "Yaxley was caught," she informed him, and Harry felt his smile falter.
"What?" he asked, and the Ravenclaw stepped closer, handing him the Prophet, already open to the article.
Yaxley Arrested with Support from Ancient Fortune, Carrow Still at Large
By Mirabel Crookes, Special Correspondent for the Daily Prophet
LONDON, June 3, The Ministry of Magic confirmed yesterday the capture of Corban Yaxley, former Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and one of the most influential Death Eaters. The wizard, who had escaped in February alongside Alecto Carrow, was finally located in Yorkshire following a complex operation carried out by Aurors.
According to the Daily Prophet, the operation was only made possible thanks to generous private funding, offered directly to the Head of the Aurors, Gawain Robards, by one of the younger lords of a family from the Sacred Twenty-Eight. The benefactor's identity remains confidential, but the decision raises questions in the wizarding political scene, genuine reparations, or an attempt to rehabilitate a lineage stained by the war?
Robards, in an official statement, said:
"It is not the Ministry's role to speculate on intentions. The support received was crucial for tracking and mobilizing teams, and directly contributed to Yaxley's capture. We will remain open to any assistance that can ensure the safety of the magical community."
Despite the victory, Alecto Carrow remains at large. Considered one of the cruelest wizards of the regime, Carrow is accused of the systematic torture of students and teachers at Hogwarts. Ministry sources confirm that Yaxley was interrogated with Veritaserum but revealed no useful information regarding his accomplice's whereabouts.
The population of Hogsmeade, site of the February escape, remains apprehensive. "We know there are still supporters out there, hiding somewhere," said a local shopkeeper.
Within the corridors of Hogwarts, where all war survivors have returned to complete their studies, little is said about the capture. Students seem more preoccupied with keeping up with school routines, and fueling inevitable conversations about the personal lives of the war heroes. Rumors abound involving famous names such as Harry Potter and other colleagues, but authorities emphasize that such matters are irrelevant compared to the current priority, capturing Carrow and finally ending the last echoes of the old regime.
The Ministry requests that any information regarding Carrow's whereabouts be reported immediately to the Auror Office.
"Fuck," he whispered after reading it, turning to Draco. "It's thanks to you, they didn't mention your name, but they said it was because of the money you provided," he explained.
Draco frowned, reaching for the paper, skimming it quickly before handing it back to Luna.
"Carrow is still at large," Hermione said, reading alongside Ron, both gathered around Luna, and Harry couldn't help but notice how Nott flinched and how Zabini comforted him with a hand on his shoulder.
"Shall we go in?" Harry suggested, noticing the doors of the Great Hall were open. "Neville must be waiting," he said to everyone, though his eyes lingered on Nott, who nodded.
Harry reached for Draco, intertwining their fingers, giving a small kiss on the knuckles and another on the Malfoy family ring, seeing how the ice-blue eyes were locked on his.
"Thank you," he whispered.
"I did this for completely selfish reasons," Draco replied, and they began walking toward the eighth-year table.
"Oh yeah? Which ones?" Harry asked, smiling faintly, and Draco looked away.
"For the sake of my heir," he said calmly, "and for your peace," he muttered under his breath, and Harry laughed. "Which is for the sake of my heir, since you're still creating him," he added.
"Who are you trying to fool?" Harry asked softly, smiling, watching Draco place both backpacks on the bench before sitting down, his eyes on Harry, waiting for him to sit. Harry laughed again before lowering himself onto the bench. "Hm?" he prompted for a response.
"Well, even if it weren't just for James, they were still selfish reasons," Draco shrugged, and Harry smiled, noticing the almost imperceptible blush on the blond's cheeks.
"All right, I'll accept that answer," he said, finding the way Draco looked at him, mock-annoyed while serving him pumpkin juice, adorable.
"How was your Herbology exam?" Draco asked, changing the subject, and Harry laughed.
"Oh, I should get an A or an E, I don't think I got an O, but I doubt I did badly enough to get a P," he shrugged. "And you?" He popped a small roasted potato into his mouth. "No, wait, I bet you got an O," he added, and Draco rolled his eyes but was smiling.
"We'll only know over the holidays when they send them to us," he shrugged.
"By Merlin, you're a rich, sarcastic, arrogant, masculine version of Hermione, and it scares me," Harry muttered, reaching for another roasted potato.
"You're saying you could fall for Hermione?" Ron asked, frowning, and Harry raised an eyebrow, questioning if Ron really thought he'd fall for something so trivial. Ron noticed and rolled his eyes. "Annoying," he muttered, starting to serve himself.
"That was very Slytherin of you," Zabini murmured, and Ron made a horrified face.
"I knew sharing a dorm with a Slytherin would have consequences," Dean muttered, shaking his head, looking disappointed.
Harry laughed, glancing at his plate to grab another potato, frowning when he noticed some vegetables along with a piece of well-done beef. He looked at Draco, who pretended he hadn't put the food on Harry's plate. Harry shrugged and started eating.
He paid attention to Dean and Seamus, talking about Gryffindor's last Quidditch match against Hufflepuff, continuing to eat with his right hand while his left rested discreetly on Draco's thigh, caressing.
He had no words to describe how grateful and relieved he felt about Yaxley's arrest. Of course, Carrow was still at large, but it was at least one less threat, one less Death Eater to haunt his dreams, one less to threaten his little boy.
He smiled when he felt a pressure on his hand, looking down at his belly and pulling one of Draco's hands to feel, watching the Malfoy's whole face light up, just like the first time he let him feel James move.
His eyes widened slightly and took on a subtle blue tint, and that involuntary, sincere, vulnerable smile appeared on his face, his focus returning to his belly.
"Is he kicking?" Parkinson asked, leaning up a little from the table to try to see, and Harry nodded, allowing himself a small smile, not for her, but for James.
He laughed when he was hugged from behind, knowing it was Neville. His friend tried a few times to feel James moving, but every time he touched Harry's belly, James stopped, which made Harry laugh.
He reached for his friend's hand and placed it next to Draco's, looking at Neville. Neville seemed extremely focused, then laughed, and Harry knew he had finally managed to feel James kick.
"Did you feel it?" Ron asked, and Neville nodded.
"This boy's going to hate me," Neville said, but couldn't stop smiling.
"Or he'll just love teasing you, Longbottom," Draco said, his voice sounding extremely soft, sincere, not seeming to have the focus to be sharp, not when he could feel James moving inside Harry. Harry found it adorably fascinating.
"Maybe," Neville muttered, pulling his hand away and returning to sit beside Nott.
Draco only moved his hand once there were no more signs that James would kick again, and Harry glanced at the clock he'd received as a 17th birthday gift from the Weasleys, seeing there wasn't much time before his exam.
He looked at his plate, realizing he had eaten almost everything, and hurried to finish, taking the last sips of juice and standing, drawing the attention of nearly everyone at the eighth-year table.
"I have an exam," Harry reminded them, speaking only to his friends.
"Bloody hell," Nott exclaimed, jumping up. "I forgot we had to get there a bit early." He gave Neville a quick kiss and came over to them. "Don't even think about being late for your class," he said to Draco, grabbing Harry's backpack. "Shall we?" he asked.
Harry froze for a few seconds, thinking about how his first- through sixth-year self would have reacted to this situation, but he just shrugged in agreement. He ruffled Draco's soft hair before following the other Slytherin, laughing at the blond's complaints.
Nott could have taken more time, he didn't need to walk slower just because Harry was pregnant, but he chose to help, to accompany him. Harry knew it was because of Draco, but still, it was something to take note of.
"What's it like?" he asked softly, and Harry looked at Nott, who was a centimeter or two shorter than him. "Feeling James move," he specified, and Harry laughed.
"I won't lie, it feels a bit like having gas," he said honestly, and Nott smiled.
"Being pregnant has always been one of my biggest fears," he muttered. "Well, it was before Hogwarts started being controlled by the Carrows," he shivered slightly.
"Can I ask a question that might be a bit personal?" Harry asked. Normally, he would have just asked, not caring, but he knew he was dealing with a sensitive topic, something the boy beside him had suffered violence over, even as a pureblood, even being on Voldemort's side. It was precisely what had brought him closer to Neville.
"I don't think I have the right to refuse, after everything," he shrugged. "But ask, I really don't mind," he added.
"If cis men can get pregnant, as we've clearly seen, what's the issue with trans or gay people?" he asked, and Nott looked at him, offering his hand when they had to step down a stair that hadn't been fixed yet. Harry accepted the help.
"Because not just any cis man can get pregnant," he explained, his tone like someone clarifying something obvious but trying to be understandable. "It takes a huge source of magic, it's a completely magical pregnancy. You don't have a uterus, it's there because of magic, and it will disappear once James is born. That demands a lot from the magical core, which is why you had to stay without using magic a few times," he shrugged. "Then there's the issue of maintaining pureblood lineage, and you can't guarantee it would be possible to have a child in a same-gender relationship. And potions used for transitioning in trans people often reduce fertility," he explained that part more calmly.
"I'm sorry," Harry said, and Nott looked at him, smiling.
"Sorry? Potter, you saved me from a mess I didn't even realize I'd gotten into, and I was among the Death Eaters willingly, having all this information all along. And even if your goal wasn't to save me, you did anyway. So I'm grateful," he said, appearing serene, and Harry smiled.
"Well, your parents didn't help," Harry commented.
"They didn't help, just like Greg's, Pansy's, Daphne's and her younger sister's, Millicent's, Draco's, Blaise's, and Vincent's," he listed the last name with some weight. "But still, those were our choices. I chose to help everyone hiding in the Room of Requirement while Snape was headmaster, Draco chose to help when he didn't report you at the manor, Greg and Vincent chose to torture the younger students, Vincent and Pansy chose to try to hand you over to the Dark Lord, Blaise, Daphne, Astoria, and Millicent chose to do nothing," he said, not seeming affected at all. "Our parents didn't help us make the right choices, but the choices were still there," he concluded.
"Like Pettigrew chose to betray my parents, like Andromeda and Sirius chose to run from their families, like Regulus chose to betray Voldemort," Harry murmured, and Nott nodded, clearly familiar with all the names from the first war.
James kicked again, and Harry moved his hand to where he felt him moving, and Nott's eyes turned directly to where Harry placed his hand, looking intrigued.
"Want to?" he asked, extending his hand. Nott seemed to realize how much trust he was offering in that moment. "Neville has good judgment, I trust him and he trusts you, so I think I can too," he added, and Nott reached out his hand.
Harry placed his hand where James was kicking and saw the small smile that appeared on Nott's lips.
"Don't tell Nev I felt him on the first try," he requested, and Harry laughed.
"I won't, I promise," he said, seeing the way Theodore smiled at him.
Maybe he hadn't been wrong about Draco Malfoy, just like Neville didn't seem to be wrong about Theodore Nott.