Harry was losing his mind. His beautiful little boy was already a year and two months old, he walked around the house, ran in a clumsy little wobble, followed Teddy wherever the older boy went, and now the two little troublemakers had decided it was fun to hide from him around the house.
They were loud, so whenever the house went quiet, it was never a good sign, especially when they were about to leave, or it was the weekend when Andromeda would be taking care of Teddy, and the two pests would simply vanish somewhere in the house.
Kreacher definitely helped the two of them hide, Harry was absolutely sure of it. He had never seen that elf look happy, but the closest he ever got to happiness was with James, and by extension, with Teddy.
At that moment, Harry was at the Burrow, eating a slice of treacle tart, watching Teddy eat messily while Molly tried to get James to eat a little, but it was one of those days when his baby was in a bad mood for some unknown reason.
"Bloody hell, Harry," he heard Ron's voice coming from the living room, so he stood up and walked over there, eyes widening when he saw the large, silver, glowing stag, a Patronus, identical to his, but not his.
"What the fuck is that, mate?" Ron asked.
"It's not mine," Harry said, staring at the Patronus
"Sweetheart, could you see if the Weasleys can look after the boys today? I want to take you out to dinner, celebrate that Carrow was finally caught, it's in the Daily Prophet, took them long enough, but they finally got him," Draco's voice came from inside the Patronus, and Harry felt his breath stutter.
"His Patronus is the same as yours," Hermione said, sounding stunned.
"I thought he couldn't cast a corporeal one," Ron added.
"He couldn't, he told me he couldn't," Harry murmured.
Draco had managed to cast a corporeal Patronus, and his corporeal Patronus was a stag, just like his own, with the same antlers. Holy shit.
"What are you waiting for?" Ron asked, giving his shoulder a shove. "I'll take care of my nephews," he said, and Harry gave him a small smile, patting Ron's shoulder in thanks before heading back to the kitchen.
"Molly, do you think you could—" he was cut off.
"Of course, my sweet boy, I'll look after these two darlings. Come pick them up tomorrow, and bring Draco for lunch, we have something to celebrate," she said, smiling.
"Thank you," he said, walking over to his boys. "Daddy will come back to get you two tomorrow, alright?" he asked.
"Will I stay with James?" Teddy asked, and Harry nodded. "Then that's fine," he shrugged, and Harry kissed his cheek before turning to James.
"Daddy will be back tomorrow, my little boy," he said, kissing his cheek and his wild blond hair. "I love you both," he said, running to the Floo, hearing some teasing comment from George before saying the name of Draco's flat.
He stepped out into the living room and cast a wandless, wordless spell to clean the soot off himself, walking through the apartment in search of his boyfriend, and he jumped when he was hugged from behind. He would've freaked out if he hadn't immediately recognized Draco's cologne.
"Was he really arrested?" he asked, feeling a kiss pressed to his neck.
"He was. He's waiting for trial, since the Sirius Black Law guarantees everyone gets one, even him. But it's certain he's going to Azkaban," Draco murmured, and Harry turned around, wrapping his arms around Draco's shoulders, instantly feeling the familiar warmth of Draco's body pressed against his.
His fingers tangled in Draco's soft blond hair, sliding down to the nape of his neck, that touch that always made Draco breathe deeper. Draco held his waist with both hands, steady and sure, pulling him closer. Harry let his body melt into it, chest against chest, the weight of the day evaporating the moment their mouths met.
The kiss started soft, only for a second. Draco smiled against his lips before deepening it, and Harry let out a low sigh, almost a moan, when Draco's warm tongue brushed his. It was a wet, intimate touch that sent a full shiver down Harry's spine.
The scent of Draco's cologne, woody, clean, with that undertone that was just him, filled the air, mixed with the faint bitterness of hot chocolate Draco had probably had earlier. The kiss was slow but intense, one of those kisses that seemed to take up space in the whole body, making the floor feel softer and the blood warmer.
Draco pulled him even closer by the waist, fingers slipping under the hem of Harry's shirt, and Harry's skin broke out in goosebumps the instant he was touched. Harry moaned softly into his mouth, and Draco answered with a deep breath, tilting his head in a way that opened the kiss more, letting their tongues meet again, deeper this time.
Their breathing grew mixed, warm, quick. Draco tasted like safety, and Harry felt his entire body melt, his legs almost weak when Draco gently pressed him back against the living room sofa, just so he could kiss him better, closer, like he hadn't seen him in weeks, even though he had kissed him that same morning.
Harry gripped his hair even tighter, giving a light pull, and Draco gasped into the kiss, the sound vibrating against Harry's mouth, a sound that always made him want more. Always.
"Wait." Draco pulled back, and Harry tried to follow him, but the blond kept him pressed to the sofa. "I'm taking you out to dinner, we don't have time to have sex," he said, taking a deep breath.
Harry glanced down, immediately spotting Draco's clear erection, and he smiled, feeling very pleased with himself for causing that in his boyfriend, while ignoring the semi he himself had inside his trousers. He held Draco by the hips and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, and Draco let out a disbelieving laugh, stepping even farther away. Harry groaned, unhappy at the loss of contact.
"Harry," Draco said in a reprimanding tone, and Harry rolled his eyes, giving up.
"Okay, okay, killjoy," he muttered, sitting properly on the sofa and crossing his arms, and Draco laughed again.
"I'm taking you to a somewhat fancy restaurant," he changed the subject, sitting on the opposite end of the sofa. "They have amazing escargot."
"That's snails, isn't it?" Harry asked, making a face, and Draco only rolled his eyes.
"They have great pasta too, Sweetheart," he added, but Harry kept making a face.
"You're not eating snails in front of me," he demanded, far more of an order than a request, and Draco rolled his eyes but smiled.
"We'll see," he shrugged. Harry felt nauseous just imagining it, and Draco stood up and walked toward him. "There are options on the menu you'll like, relax," he said, pressing a kiss to Harry's cheek. "Do you want to grab clothes from your apartment, or should I pick something out of mine for you?" he asked as he stepped back, and Harry sprawled out on the soft sofa.
"As if I owned anything fancy enough for a place like that," he muttered, staring up at the chandelier and sighing.
He heard Draco's footsteps walking away and stretched, enjoying the fabric of the sofa. He took his glasses off and put them back on while waiting for whatever Draco was doing, probably trying to calm his erection down, noticing how different the chandelier looked with and without his lenses.
"You're quiet," Draco's deep voice came at the same time fingers combed through Harry's hair. He realized Draco had come back and was sitting by his head.
"You didn't think that when I was getting you hard," Harry grumbled, and felt a light slap to his shoulder. "I was just thinking, that's all," he said, adjusting his glasses and looking up at his boyfriend.
"Thinking about what?" Draco asked, and Harry smiled.
"I like this sofa," he shrugged, and Draco raised an eyebrow.
"You were thinking about how you like this sofa?" he asked, incredulous, and Harry nodded, watching the blond roll his eyes. "I'll pretend I believe you the same way we all pretended we didn't see you cheating in Potions in sixth year," he said, getting up again.
"I didn't cheat," Harry defended himself, sitting up.
"Defend yourself at dinner," Draco said, tossing him a green blazer.
"Draco Malfoy, I did not cheat in sixth year," Harry said, standing up and heading up the stairs after the blond.
"I can keep pretending I believe you," Draco said as he entered his bedroom and closed the door.
"Pointy bastard," Harry muttered, looking at the blazer. It was a green suspiciously similar to the one Molly bought him in fourth year.
He shrugged and walked to his own bedroom. He took a quick shower, mostly because he'd been with the kids, put on the perfume Hermione always said she liked, and dressed in the outfit Draco had chosen. He looked at himself in the mirror, having to adjust the hem of the trousers because of the length.
He left the room and saw Draco wearing a nice light-blue set, and he didn't even try to stop himself from smiling as he stepped closer, cupping Draco's face and pressing their lips together, smoothing his hand over the fabric covering his boyfriend's chest.
"You're beautiful, you know that?" he asked, watching a smug smile spread over the taller man's face. "Forget it," he muttered, rolling his eyes and trying to pull away, but Draco's hand closed firmly around his waist.
"I know I'm beautiful," Draco said, and Harry ruffled his blond hair, hair that, annoyingly, fell right back into perfect place. "I have to be, if I'm going to stand next to you," he added, and Harry felt his cheeks burn violently.
"You're an idiot," Harry murmured, shy, and Draco's smile only widened.
"I know," he laughed, letting him go and offering his arm. "Shall we?" he asked, opening the front door, clearly ready to apparate.
"Let's go," Harry agreed, taking his arm before feeling the familiar pull of apparition.
They were on the same street they'd been on when they went to talk to Lucius and Narcissa about his pregnancy, he was sure of it, and it only took a few steps for him to notice the restaurant's façade across the street. But Draco was walking in the exact opposite direction.
"Are you going to tell me about that Patronus?" Harry asked, looking at Draco's profile. The blond ignored him completely and entered a restaurant.
"Reservation under Draco Lucius Malfoy," he told the hostess, who glanced down at something hidden at the desk before nodding.
"Right this way," she said as she stood.
"I could say I felt like I was talking to a wall, but even walls answer sometimes," Harry muttered, feeling satisfied when he noticed Draco fight a smile.
She led them to a table that seemed more private, the chairs were nearly armchairs, and there was a sort of dark wooden barrier around them. As he walked past it, Harry could feel the silencing and privacy charms woven into it.
"The wine list," she handed one to Draco, and Harry shook his head when she offered him one, he wouldn't know how to choose anyway, even if he were drinking. "And the menus," she handed one to each of them. "When you're ready, just lift your hand from the circle, and I'll come immediately to take your order," she explained. Harry noticed she had a streak of hair the same shade of blue Teddy liked to use.
"All right, thank you," Harry said, and she walked away.
"I tried the Patronus today, and it worked," Draco finally said, shrugging, still not looking at him.
"What did you think about?" Harry asked, reaching for his hand across the table.
"The first time I held James," he smiled, shifting his eyes from the menu to Harry's. "Feeling his weight in my arms for the first time, that's what I thought about." He shrugged again, and Harry lifted his hand to press a kiss to Draco's fingers. "I'll have a glass of Sauvignon Blanc, it pairs well with the escargot," Draco added, changing the subject. Harry rolled his eyes.
"I can't believe you're actually going to eat that," he huffed, picking up the menu.
It didn't take long for them to choose their starters and main courses. Harry refused the wine the moment he spotted the soda he used to drink every now and then at Mrs. Figg's house, and he genuinely wanted it, he had forgotten it even existed.
"You can be a complete savage when you want to," Draco complained, watching him pop the can open and drink straight from it.
"I can also be better at Potions than you when I want to," he muttered, and Draco raised an eyebrow.
"Cheating doesn't count," he grumbled.
"I didn't cheat, I just followed the instructions in the book," Harry replied, which wasn't a lie.
"You don't even follow a recipe book when you're cooking," Draco muttered before taking a sip of his wine.
"Cooking is about feeling things out. You figure out what goes well with what by trying things. It's different," he defended himself.
"We had the same book, Potter. There's no way we followed different instructions," Draco rolled his eyes, and Harry smiled.
"No, I wasn't supposed to take Potions that year. I had to grab the old spare book from the classroom," he reminded him. "It was a book full of notes written over the instructions. I just followed those." He shrugged.
"That was cheating," Draco accused, incredulous.
"No, Professor Slughorn made me use that book. I was following his orders," he shot back, and Draco laughed.
"Isn't that a very Slytherin thing to say?" he asked, taking another sip of his wine.
"I don't care enough," Harry shrugged, and Draco kept smiling at him, looking at him in that way that always made Harry's cheeks warm.
The plates arrived, and Harry got distracted from his own meal, staring at the way Draco's dish was arranged, wondering why on earth he was eating that willingly. He watched Draco cut a tiny piece after holding the ladle with that odd utensil.
"Taste it," Draco insisted, offering him the fork, his eyes shining in that impossible-to-say-no way.
Harry gave in, grabbing the fork and bringing it to his lips. The taste wasn't bad, really, it tasted of the seasonings, garlic and a few other things, but the texture was awful. Softer than rubber, but still rubbery. He must have made a funny face because Draco burst out laughing.
"How do you eat that?" Harry asked, drinking his soda.
"It's fine, it's fine. I'll make you like it eventually," Draco shrugged, and Harry hurried back to his pasta, that was actually good.
Their dinner conversation drifted from the kids, to Draco's law studies, and how he would probably become a lawyer if he kept going the way he was, and then to gossip about their friends and former classmates, Theodore and Neville living together, Finch-Fletchley hitting on Oliver Wood, and getting rejected, and Parkinson's new obsession with some Norwegian stylist designer who was also a Muggle.
When the plates were cleared and they were waiting for dessert, Harry noticed Draco shifting uncomfortably in his seat, but he didn't get the chance to ask why, because Draco suddenly reached out, took both of Harry's hands on top of the table, and looked straight into his eyes, blue meeting green.
"I actually booked this place a while ago, it wasn't because of Carrow," he said, his cheeks flushing, and Harry squeezed his hands, trying to calm him down. "Bloody hell, Harry, does this have to be so hard?" he asked, looking away from him.
"I don't know. I don't know what you're trying to do," Harry admitted, a nervous knot forming in his chest, afraid, for a moment, that he had read everything wrong and Draco was about to break up with him.
"I don't know if it was your hair, so messy it's infuriating, but so soft I can't keep my hands off it, or if it was your laugh, the kind that makes anyone want to smile when they hear it, even the people who don't like you," he began, and Harry felt his heart race. "I don't know if it was your sarcasm, which I find funny when it's not aimed at me, and infuriating when it is, or if it's the way you pick at your nails whenever you're nervous, like they suddenly became the most interesting thing in the world." Draco finally looked at him again. "I don't know the order in which I fell in love with all of that, but I know the first thing I fell in love with was your eyes," he said.
"Draco—" Harry breathed, needing to say his name, but Draco shook his head.
"They're round, Harry. Big, even when you're wearing your glasses. That shade of green is so intense it doesn't seem real. And Harry, by Merlin, the way they shine, the way you can read exactly what you're feeling just by how they shine, it's impossibly charming and utterly adorable." He smiled softly. "I love the way they shine when you're excited about something. I love the way they shine when you look at Teddy and at our little boy. I love the way they shine when you're with your friends. I love the way they shine when you're about to kiss me. And I love the way they shine after I kiss you." He let go of one of Harry's hands. "I love your eyes. I love your hair. I love your laugh. I love your voice. I love your body. I love your anxious little habits. I love your sense of humor. I love your hero complex. I even love your lack of self-preservation, even if it drives me mad sometimes." He smiled again, and Harry mirrored him, realizing only then that his vision was blurring with tears. "I know people reduce your eyes to Lily Evans', your hair to the Potter family, your knack for trouble to James Potter. But to me, those things are just you. Just Harry. Just the man I love more fiercely than I've ever loved anything, more than I love myself, and the only one who comes before you in my heart is James." Harry's smile widened at the mention of their son. "To me, these things are simply the man I want to spend the rest of my life with, raising the two little troublemakers we already have," he said, and then he pulled a small box from the pocket of his blazer. And that's when it finally clicked, Harry was being proposed to. "Would you give me that honor, Harry James Potter? Would you marry me?" he asked, putting it into words.
Harry could feel his heart hammering wildly. He knew the tears were already slipping down his cheeks. He knew he was still smiling. He knew he was frozen in place and that his brain had absolutely stopped functioning properly. And instead of saying what he meant to, instead of shouting 'yes' for the entire restaurant to hear, his mouth chose something else entirely.
"I'm pregnant," he blurted out, and Draco blinked, stunned.
"What?" Draco asked, confused, and Harry started laughing.
"Shit—" he tried to contain himself, getting up from his seat, walking over to Draco, and settling onto his lap. "I meant yes. I want to marry you, Draco Lucius Malfoy. But I also wanted to tell you that I'm pregnant." He tried to sort his words, looking right into those blue-grey eyes.
"Holy shit, Harry." That was Draco's response before he kissed him, cupping his face as if Harry might disappear if he didn't hold on, and kissed him again. "How? I'm pretty sure we were careful," he asked, placing one hand over Harry's stomach, and Harry smiled.
"We drank a bit too much at James's first birthday party," he reminded him, and Draco closed his eyes, as if the memory of that night two months ago hit him all at once. He leaned his forehead against Harry's shoulder and started laughing.
"Right. Our two little boys and a baby. We can handle that," he said, showing him the ring box.
It was slightly rose-colored, the band twisting around itself in looping shapes, like partially braided branches. At the center sat a stone, large, probably a diamond, and smaller stones were scattered along the "branches," like tiny leaves growing from them. Some larger, some smaller, all asymmetrical. The stones were big but not too tall, it didn't look like it would snag on anything in daily life. It was beautiful. It was perfect.
Harry looked at Draco, smiling, then glanced down at his own hands. He had no idea which finger was for an engagement ring, and Draco laughed, kissing his cheek.
"Ring finger, left hand," he said, and Harry smiled, lifting his hand.
Draco let go of him to take the ring and set the box aside. He was trembling, Merlin, both of them were trembling, so much that Draco simply couldn't get the ring on properly, and the two of them burst into laughter. Harry grabbed Draco's hand with his right hand to help him, and finally the ring slid onto his finger. He pulled his hand back to look at it. He had never imagined wearing something so expensive-looking and elegant.
"You proposed to me with a pink ring," he commented.
"It's rosé," Draco corrected, and Harry gave him a look. "I thought silver or gold would feel like picking between Gryffindor and Slytherin, and I know that's childish, but I was kind of freaking out while choosing the ring," he rambled quickly, nervous, and Harry smiled, cupping his face in both hands and pressing a quick kiss to his lips.
"As if you could ever pick something ugly," he muttered, and Draco smiled. "Where's yours?" Harry asked, looking at Draco's hands. "I want a ring on your hand too. Where is it?" he repeated, and Draco smiled, kissing his cheek.
"This ring is technically a woman's ring, men's rings are incredibly boring," he said, messing with something in his pocket, and Harry waited. "So I bought two identical women's rings." He showed him, and Harry smiled, taking the ring.
"Hand," he ordered, and Draco laughed, offering his left hand. Harry had to hold it steady, struggling a little because he was shaking, but he managed to slide the ring on without Draco's help "Ha!" Harry celebrated, staring at their hands together, and received a kiss on the forehead.
"You're pregnant. Again," Draco murmured, and Harry looked into those blue-grey eyes.
"Bloody hell, we're really good at this," Draco joked, and Harry laughed, just as the waitress approached with their desserts. He stood from Draco's lap and returned to his seat, ignoring Draco's displeased little grumble, boyfriend, no, fiancé. "Do you know how many generations it's been since a Malfoy managed to have more than one heir?" Draco asked, and Harry rolled his eyes, laughing, admiring the ring on his finger.
"Not sure, but at this rate we need to be careful, or soon we'll be competing with the Weasleys," he said, looking from the ring to Draco, who stared back at him in horror. "Why are you looking at me like that? I'm the one who has to give birth," Harry said, then realization hit him. "Oh shit. I'm going to go through that again." He grimaced, and Draco's hand closed around his.
"We've got this, Harry James Potter-Malfoy," he said, and Harry smiled, even though they hadn't discussed last names yet.
"We've got this, Draco Lucius Malfoy-Potter," he replied, watching Draco's smile grow wider.