InsaneJournal

Current mood:

hungry

FIC: Something Taken, Something Given
Title: Something Taken, Something Given
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Word Count:
Warnings: The content of this fic is HIGHLY emotionally sensitive in nature, and has the potential, I feel, to trigger some psychological distress. Therefore, if you feel you would be upset by reproductive-related trauma, or if you just wanna know, please highlight for warnings – *past miscarriage, implied m-preg *
Disclaimer: Characters = Not mine + Belong to J.K. Rowling
Summary: Draco is tired of waking up alone, but the reason Harry keeps leaving is what bothers him the most. Angsty beginning with a hopeful end.
Author's Notes: Due to some RL issues, this is a topic that has been on my mind a lot lately, and I had to write about it. Started this morning and just finished a little bit ago, so it's rough around the edges, I know, but I was afraid I'd lose my motivation if I doted on it for too long. Poor Harry - I've really been tearing him up lately. This story is dedicated to my big sister, who will never know of its existence, but I feel she would appreciate the gesture.

X-posted at harrydraco and hd_hurtcomfort on LJ




It is dark still when Draco wakes. He has always been a midnight-snacker, and lately, his hunger pangs have been violent enough to wake him, usually around two in the morning.

He yawns deeply and stretches his arm across the bed until his fingertips curl around the opposite edge. On a normal night, his fingers would have encountered a smooth, hard chest or a familiar tangle of hair, but tonight his hand slides over Harry's side of the bed and he feels only cold sheets.

Draco's heart sinks and he sighs into his pillow. After five years, he is not accustomed to waking up alone, but these past few months have found him lying in a cold bed more often than not. It hurts him more than he will ever admit, even to himself.

An optimistic thought runs through his head. Maybe he's just in the loo. Draco rolls to his other side and looks for the light under their bathroom door, but the door is open and the room dark.

He is gone. Again.

Though all Draco really wants to do is stay in bed and pretend that nothing is wrong – maybe shed a tear or two – he forces his feet onto the freezing cold floor and pulls himself upright. Reaching for his dressing gown, he stands, a little shaky on his feet, and makes his way out of the room.

He knows exactly where Harry is, but denial compels him to check each room of the house before climbing that bleak staircase. The living room is empty, as is the study, the guest room, and the…extra room. Draco's heart aches before he shuts that door – Harry likely went there first. A half-hearted shuffle into the kitchen, his last hope, reveals no Harry there either. Denial vanquished. Now it's time to face the truth.

Draco makes his way up the dark staircase that leads to the attic, his feet freezing on the floor boards, his heart taking on that same chill with every step. The door is already open; he pushes it wider and it creaks painfully. Pale moonlight shines through the only window, casting box-made shadows and frail light on the floor. And…

And here he is, just as Draco knew he would be. His forehead rests on the cool glass of the attic window, eyes closed in sleep. He is curled up, knees tucked up by his chest, able to keep the position thanks to the chest of drawers and old school trunk that hold him upright like bookends.

It's pitiful really, to see everyone's hero huddled in their attic like a scared child; that alone would be enough to make Draco feel sorry for him. But every time Draco finds him like this, the thing that breaks his heart the most is the small teddy bear that Harry has cradled in his arms. It has never known a child's touch, but Harry has come here and held it so often that it has the worn look of too many hugs, too many frightened tears dried on it, and too many nights being smothered.

Draco walks softly so he won't disturb the floor boards. He kneels down on the floor next to his partner and rests his hand on Harry's shoulder. Dry tear tracks on his face verify Draco's suspicions, and god, he wishes he could re-live the hours and make sure those tears had never fallen. He whispers his lover's name softly and Harry's eyes open in an instant, a reflex from the constant danger his life had been.

The moonlight on his skin glows a sickly blue, his eyes dull and a little swollen, but still he smiles when he sees who has woken him.

"Hi," Harry whispers, barely audible against the wind blowing outside. "Sorry if I woke you."

Draco shakes his head and presses his lips to Harry's forehead. "Didn't wake me. You were just gone again."

Harry nods and turns his eyes away, clutching the bear more tightly to his chest. Draco sighs and sits down next to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and resting his head on Harry's shoulder. The minutes pass, and before too long, a single cold drop lands on Draco's forehead. He wipes it away without a comment – Harry will talk when he's ready. He always does.

Draco is expecting another tear to fall when he hears Harry's broken voice whisper again, a little louder this time.

"Can you miss someone you never even knew?"

Draco's heart lurches, and he nods against Harry's shoulder, feeling tears of his own welling up in his eyes.

"How? How can I miss him this much, Draco? How can I love him so much?"

Draco's arm tightens around Harry's waist, so much that he knows it must be hurting. "I don't know, Harry. But I…I miss him too."

Harry's audible sob vibrates through his skull and Draco lifts his head, using his free hand to switch their positions and maneuver his lover's head to his own shoulder. He doesn't cry anymore, but he shudders against Draco as if tears just aren't enough to express his sorrow. The blond strokes his arm and soothes him with small shushing noises until Harry finally stops shivering and is just breathing heavily into Draco's neck.

"I'm so sorry, Draco."

Draco's fingers still and he grits his teeth. No matter what he says, no matter what the doctors and the therapists say, it always comes back to this. "It wasn't your fault – you know that, Harry."

"I…I know. But what if –"

"No, no 'what if's. Losing the baby had nothing to do with the things you've done or the mistakes you've made. It had nothing to do with you, Harry; it just wasn't meant to be."

Harry tenses in his arms and Draco cringes, knowing with certainty what he is about to say. "I wish you wouldn't say that. It doesn't make me feel any better."

Draco sighs. He knows better – they have already had this conversation many times – but it had just slipped out. He has run out of comforting things to say, and none of them seem to do any good. He settles for the truth, harsh as it is. "You'll kill yourself with guilt if you keep on like this." Draco clings to him tighter, presses his lips in the shaggy black hair his fingers love to tangle in. "I can't make it without you. Not now. Not ever again."

Harry nods and reaches for Draco's free hand, clasping it in his own. "You won't have to, Draco; I promise. I'm getting better, I think…but, it's still hard sometimes." He turns his face up and silently asks for a kiss that Draco gladly bestows. "Thank you, for being here with me."

"I love you, Harry; where else would I be?"

Harry sighs happily and shrugs, unconsciously stroking the fur on the bear's nose. They stay for only a minute more before Harry starts to shiver, this time from the cold.

Draco whispers in his ear. "Back to bed, love?"

Harry hesitates for a minute, then nods against Draco's shoulder as he shifts his legs. Draco pulls him up from the waist, resisting the urge to gather him up in his arms and carry him back down to their room. They walk hand-in-hand down the creaky attic steps, stopping only at the extra room so that Harry can replace the bear. Its home is a small padded basket that rests on top of the changing table in the closet, and as bad as Draco feels for the thing, he hopes it has seen the last of the outside world for a while.

They walk into their bedroom, somber but together, and Draco moves to sit on the edge of the bed while Harry takes a minute to splash water on his face. Once the lights are out, Harry shuffles over to his side of the bed, but before he can make it, Draco grabs his arm.

"Before we go back to bed…I…there's something you should know."

Even in the dim light Draco can see a confused frown start to form on Harry's face. He pulls him over closer and centers him with his body so that they can see each other plainly.

"Since we've been together, you've given me everything I could have wanted. You've comforted me, protected me, given me a home, someone to love…you've even loved me back, which we both know isn't the easiest thing in the world."

Harry scoffs, and Draco rolls his eyes at him. "Believe me, it's not all roses on this side either, being in love with the most stubborn man on the planet." They both share a small teasing smile before Draco's face turns back down into seriousness. "I feel so inadequate sometimes, like I can't give you enough."

"Draco, you don't need –"

"Let me finish," he commands, his tone able to quiet his lover in an instant. "At first, I didn't want to give you what I knew you wanted because I was scared, for myself more than anything else. Then…after what happened…I thought it would seem like a slap in the face to you to even ask if we could…try again." Harry's sharp intake of breath confirms Draco's fears. "But I asked Snape to brew the potion again and…he did."

Harry finally sits down next to him on the bed, shaking his head as he lowers himself. "I don't know, Draco. I do want children with you, more than anything, but…these have been some of the hardest months of my life…I don't know if I could stand to lose another baby."

"What if…what if I carried this time?"

There is no gasp this time, but the tension in the room increases drastically, and Draco starts to panic. "Not that I'm saying you can't, because you can and I would never insist I take the potion instead if you really wanted to and I'm sure everything would be fine this time and –"

"Draco." Harry's hands close firmly around his upper arms and squeeze briefly. "Stop; you're babbling."

Draco breathes in deeply, calming himself and finding the right words to say. "Let me give you this. Let me give you a child, Harry. Please."

The silence is deafening, Draco can feel his heartbeat pounding against every nerve in his body, and he prepares himself for rejection.

"Yes."

"Yes?" His heart stops beating. He said 'yes'?

"If that's what you want, Draco, then yes, I would be very happy to have you carry our child."

Draco's sigh is close to a sob this time, and he feels a slight twinge in his belly, reminding him that he's not just feeding himself anymore. "I'm glad you agree, because here," he takes Harry's hands in his own and rests them on his still-flat stomach, "is our second chance."

Harry nods absently, but it doesn't take long for Draco's meaning to sink in and his eyes widen, darting to the blond's abdomen and back up to his face. "You already took it. You're…"

"Pregnant. I think. Been throwing up after you leave for work in the morning for the past week." Draco's grin glows on his face, but it fades quickly once Harry's expression of bewilderment does not. He rests his hands on Harry's shoulders in an attempt to soothe. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. I've been dying to for the past few weeks, but it never really seemed like the right time and I was afraid you would flat-out refuse because you were still too upset and wouldn't want to take the chance again and…"

"And what, Draco?"

Draco lowered his head as if in shame. "I was afraid you'd think I was trying to hurt you, trying to prove that I could do something you couldn't." Tears sting his eyes as the man across from him remains silent. "Please tell me that's not how you feel now, Harry, because I swear that's not why I –"

Harry silences him with a finger across his lips and he turns Draco's chin up to look him in the eye. He's smiling – weakly, but still smiling.

"No, Draco, that's not what I feel. I'm happy that, for once, you were more impulsive than I was; it means you know me, probably more than I know myself. I would have always made excuses, been too afraid. I know you would never do something like this to hurt me."

Draco moves his arms from Harry's shoulders to wrap around his neck and pull him close. "Thank Merlin. I love you, Harry."

"I love you too, Draco." The words are little more than rumbles to Draco's ears, as is the small chuckle that follows them. "I don't think I've ever heard you talk so much."

He buries his face in Harry's neck. "I talk too much when I'm nervous. Remember our first date?"

Harry nods and squeezes Draco one last time before releasing him. "Well, it's been quite a night – I'm exhausted." He climbs over Draco to reach his side of the bed and Draco curls up facing him. They share one last kiss before falling into sleep, both content with the knowledge of the other sharing their bed.

**********************************

Draco does not wake alone the next morning. Someone is making his presence known in yet another series of brutal hunger pangs, and the other is pressed up against his back, warm arms encircling him protectively, fingers entwined above his belly. Draco turns in Harry's arms, not surprised to see yet another set of tear tracks dried on his cheeks. He had not tried to fool himself – this pregnancy will be harder on Harry than it will be on him, and he has no doubt that he will still wake some nights to cold sheets and have to make the long trek up to the attic.

But that doesn't matter. What matters is that no matter how many times Harry falls asleep to the gentle rhythm of his own tears, Draco will always be there to dry them and remind him that it is okay to mourn for people you had never known, as long as you celebrate the ones you have.