Author's note: Well, this turned out to be quite longer than expected *coughs* And a bit more dramatic as well at times, but that couldn't be really avoided. Overall, though, I don't think it's too heavy ^^ With this chapter my first steps into the A/B/O world for Harry Potter are finished, but this probably won't be the last fic of mine with that particular theme for Harry Potter LOL We'll see what my mind comes up with.

Thanks to the following reviewers: Gina-luliana; DheeDixon; Baxter87; Ageha Yume; neneksihir; Ern Estine 13624; cookyc; SehunsBae37; Rei . Avi; The Griffindor Hatstall; yukino76; delia cerrano; littlesprout; Sweetciel; TheBeauty; Ariadne; babyvfan; kirsty21; HibarixTsunaxlover; AlyssJocelyn; Josephine78; Hakudoushi kawaii ne

Warnings: MPreg; references to mass murder in history; some drama; sprinkle of angst; abortion is referenced, but never carried out

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling owns it.

I hope you'll like this last part!

Part 2

"I'm fine, Hermione," Harry sighed, fending off her hands which kept turning his head to the left and then to the right again as she checked the cut on his forehead. "Stop fussing so much."

"You were attacked," Hermione said snippily, but took a step back as she frowned. "It was serious enough to land you in the hospital."

"Only because my colleagues like to overreact," he growled, shifting on the hard examination bed. How long would he have to stay here? Surely it didn't take that long to check his results? "Where's Ron?"

"He's gone back to the Ministry," she replied and clucked her tongue when he pulled his head out of her reach.

"Why does he get to go - "

"Because he wasn't as badly hurt as you were!"

"Please tell me at least that nobody contacted Draco," he sighed, rubbing his forehead, careful to keep away from the cut he had sustained. The blood had finally stopped flowing and he didn't want to disrupt the thin crust forming over the cut.

"You're probably the only one who doesn't want their partner to know they got hurt," she said darkly, crossing her arms.

"He would get worried about nothing." Green eyes rolled exasperatedly. "I've had worse, Hermione. They're basically just cuts and some bruises; nothing I haven't had before."

"You were unconscious!" Hermione snapped; her brown eyes flashing dangerously.

"Not for very long!" Harry retorted dismissively.

"Will you quit being so damn st-"

The door swung open, cutting off what would probably have been a spectacular rant. Hermione pursed her lips tightly together, but stepped to the side, making way for the Healer. The silver grey haired man – looking close to his fifties – shut the door behind him; a bunch of papers was pressed between his left arm and his side.

"Apologies for the wait," Healer Edward Stone smiled apologetically, coming to a stop in front of Harry. "I just needed to check your results again to make sure there wasn't any mistake made."

"Mistake?" Hermione repeated sharply before Harry could open his mouth. She visibly tensed up and she braced herself with her hands on the mattress. "What kind of mistake could have been made?"

Stone smiled reassuringly. "Nothing in the bad sense, I assure you."

"So, what do my results say?" Harry asked, but couldn't supress the small note of impatience creeping into his voice. He had been here for more than an hour already and he just wanted to get back to his work and finish that damn report he had been working on before he had been called up to assist other Aurors.

"You have a couple of bruises near your shoulders and your right leg, but those should be healed soon if you rub the Balming Potion on them," Stone explained, flicking through the papers he had brought with him. "The couple of cuts you sustained will heal without leaving any scarring behind. That's the extent of your damage, Mister Potter. You've been quite lucky."

"See, 'Mione, I told you I'm fine!" Harry pointed out triumphantly and jumped off the examination table. "So I'm good to go, right?"

"Yes, but before you leave, I have one more thing to say," Stone said; his dark brown eyes glittering merrily.

"Okay," Harry said slowly and blinked. "What?"

"Well, I want to congratulate you, Mister Potter!"

"Congratulate me for what?" he asked warily, wondering whether this would be yet another 'Thank you for saving the Wizarding World!' moment. He had had more than enough of those in the past several years now.

"With your pregnancy, of course!"

What.

The history books spoke of wizards and witches pretending to die when being burnt at the stake or killed in various other ways during the magical prosecutions spread out through humanity's history. They had magic – as if they would let some mere Muggles get the best of them. That was certainly true – for a very small minority of them.

What history books conveniently forgot to mention every time was that only wizards and witches capable of wandless magic were able to deceive their executioners. All the others who had to rely on their wands to cast magic perished, their wands destroyed in front of their eyes.

Before the magical community was founded and ways to avoid detection were created, wizards and witches had to lie low, hide every shred of evidence that proved they were not Muggles. As a result most families tended to be small; they lived longer than Muggles, yes, but doing so and having multiple healthy children while others died at a young age would attract attention – the wrong kind at that. So most families only had one or two children, sometimes three.

Then the witch hunts happened. Again. And again. Families were ripped apart; whole households destroyed in the name of vanquishing the evil. Magical blood thinned out; less and less magical children were born as people were too afraid to have them, terrified they would lose them if they were caught.

Magical people were on the brick of extinction.

Nature was on their side, though. Nature wouldn't allow Muggles to wipe them off the face of the earth. The whole of Wizarding kind underwent physical changes. No longer would only their magic set them aside from the general population; no, the moment people reached the age of maturity, at seventeen years, their bodies would endure changes, turning them into one of the – as they later would be called – Three Classes.

Alpha, Beta and Omega.

People who carried the Alpha gene generally turned out to be faster, stronger after going through the Change; their magic gaining an equal boost. Beta wizards and witches didn't change that much; usually the change was limited to a slight boost in their magic.

Omega didn't differ that much from the Beta – except when the Omega was a man. To combat the dwindling numbers of wizards and witches, nature had assured that more people were able to bear children – the act of giving life was no longer solely restricted to women. Omega men were granted that right as well, ensuring that their people wouldn't die out.

Nobody knew when exactly these particular genes had appeared. Did it start in the Antiquity or the Middle Ages? When did their ancestors realise they were capable of doing more than magic alone? Those particular bits of facts were obscured in history as nobody had found any specific writings about it.

All they knew was that on the age of seventeen, wizards and witches would discover whether they were an Alpha, a Beta or an Omega. Guardians had the important task of informing the child what to expect and what the Three Classes meant before the child in question would turn seventeen years old. Every child knew what to expect long before it happened.

Every child except for Harry that is.

"So, because of this whole Alpha, Omega bullshit kind of thing, I'm – I'm pregnant now?" Harry thought he could be forgiven for sounding nearly hysterical at this point.

"It's not bullshit, Harry," Hermione admonished him, but there was no heat in her voice, knowing how distressed her friend was now. Her brown eyes were tracking him as he paced back and forth in his living room. "The Three Classes ensure that the Wizarding population won't become extinct in the event of another attempted witch hunt." Her upper lip curled up in disgust.

As a Muggleborn and an avid reader, she had the advantage of knowing just how many people had been killed throughout history because of their use of magic. What the magical history books kept quiet, couldn't be hidden in Muggle books.

"But, but, it just doesn't make any sense!" he exploded, coming to a stop in front of the fireplace. The flames were licking eagerly at the wooden blocks he had thrown in the hearth this morning, spreading its heat throughout the room. Despite standing right in front of the fire, though, he felt cold as if the warmth was incapable of surrounding him and he wrapped his arms around him, trying to make sense of everything he had just heard.

He was what they called an Omega apparently and because of that, he was pregnant. Carrying a child. Knocked up. Up the duff. Expecting a child.

Fuck, he was carrying Draco's child.

"It makes perfect sense when you consider how evolution had a hand in …" she started to explain, but he cut her off, not in the mood to appreciate the science lecture.

"Why did nobody ever tell me about this?!" He kicked the leg of the coffee table in anger, not even registering the stinging pain that followed swiftly as his foot connected with the hard, unforgiving wood.

"You really didn't know?" Hermione stilled; her eyes wide in her pale face. She was sitting on the couch; her hands folded in her lap. She had followed him to his home or more accurately, she had guided his shell-shocked body towards his home, reassuring a confused Stone that everything was all right, really, my friend is just very surprised!

Surprised felt like a heavy understatement when Harry tried to make sense of what he felt.

He whirled around to face her; his furious eyes pinning her. "How the hell could I have known about this, Hermione?! Please enlighten me when the fuck I could have heard about this whole Three Classes tripe!"

"I just figured you would have looked it up in a book or …"

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "How could I have looked something up if I didn't even know it existed in the first place? Why did you never say anything about it?"

She worried her lower lip between her teeth and sighed softly. "Because you're not supposed to just casually talk about it with friends," she explained gently. "The Three Classes are something very private, Harry. The people in charge of the child tell them what to expect when the time comes."

"How come you know about it then? Your parents are Muggle." For a moment Harry was distracted by this glaring hole in her explanation.

"The Head of the House becomes the guardian of Muggleborns for magic related affairs," she replied patiently. "Professor McGonagall gave me the information when I was fifteen." Brown eyes both softened and darkened with worry as she asked, "Did – did Sirius never say anything to you about it?"

The smile he gave her was twisted he knew; he didn't need her fleeting grimace to tell him that. "When would he have had the chance? He was in Azkaban for the majority of my life, then on the run, and then he was locked up in Grimmauld Place, wasting away with the memories of his family. When would he have had a moment to tell me? Someone else was almost always present," he reminded her.

"Professor Lupin?"

"He probably considered me too young in our third year to discuss it," he answered and couldn't help the resentful note in his voice. Remus would forever remain the best professor he had ever had and he had respected the older man greatly, but the fact remained that Remus had often considered him too young for various things – never mind that even at thirteen years old he had had already experienced far more horror than most adults would in their entire life. Remus had wanted to give him the chance to remain a child for just a bit longer, but Harry hadn't been 'just' a child in a long time before he met the older man. "And when I saw him back later on, the war had already started."

"Dumbledore?" She looked apprehensive now, probably guessing the answer already.

He didn't even deign that question worthy of a reply and just stared at her flatly. She uttered a sigh and nodded in resignation.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I really thought you knew about it," she said, looking ashamed and regretful.

All the anger and frustration abruptly left him and he sagged down in the armchair, running his hands through his hair. "How do people know which Class someone is?" he asked flatly; the question serving more as a way to distract him from the upcoming panic than out of real interest.

"You don't unless they tell you," Hermione responded after a short pause. "It's something very private, so you're not supposed to shout it from the roofs."

"Well, you obviously know mine now; what are you?" He looked up, reclining against the back of the chair. The cloth of the cushions rustled softly as he adjusted himself.

"Beta," she promptly replied and shrugged almost bashfully. "Not much change happened."

He nodded slowly. "And Ron?"

"Beta too."

Harry considered this for a while, until a memory from months ago drifted to the surface and he straightened up. "Was Draco referring to these Classes then when he asked me whether I was an O-type the first night we slept together?" he asked abruptly; only vaguely uncomfortable at mentioning his sex life to one of his best friends. She had found him vomiting and expelling all kinds of other bodily fluids after a particular nasty fight once – they were practically past feeling shame at this point.

Hermione appeared taken aback at first, but nodded. "Yes, the Classes are commonly abbreviated to A-type, B-type and O-type."

"If this whole thing is supposed to be so private, why did he ask me about it then?" he questioned perplexed. As a Pureblood and raised by Narcissa and Lucius, Draco would be more than aware of all the social rules one had to follow in the Wizarding society. There was no way he wouldn't know that enquiring after a Class type was supposed to be taboo.

She cocked her head to the right slightly, looking pensive. "I suppose he asked precisely because you were going to have sex," she replied, crossing her ankles and resting them underneath the table. "If he had known you're an O-type, he would have taken the necessary precautions to make sure you wouldn't become pregnant, I assume."

Harry frowned, rapping his fingers against his left knee. "Yeah, about that – Draco and I have been having sex for months now. Why didn't I, you know, get knocked up the first time we slept together?"

She huffed a gentle laugh. "It's not as if women all get pregnant from the first time having sex with someone," she remarked amused. "Omega men have their own days too when they're more fertile than others, just like women." She cut herself off then; her cheeks reddening fiercely all of a sudden.

Green eyes regarded her suspiciously. "Why are you suddenly so red?"

"Eh, well, I was just thinking about an old wife's tale I read," she said dismissively and cleared her throat.

"What old wife's tale?"

"It's something stupid, Harry, don't worry about - "

"Hermione."

She pursed her lips and pulled up her legs on the couch, settling herself more comfortably against the arm. "Fine, but it's something stupid. In the past they used to believe – and some still do I suppose – that an Omega man's chance at conceiving was heightened when his partner had proven he could take care of him, that they could build a life together. Sort of like a failsafe to prevent the Omega man from having children with the wrong person."

"Proven he could take care of him?" Harry murmured confused. According to Stone he was a month pregnant – if that old tale was true, what had happened a month ago that would make his body decide that having a child was a good idea?

What had they been doing a month ago …

He inhaled sharply, shock settling in, as he realised what had occurred a month ago. Harry had been hit with the fever curse and Draco had remained with him to take care of him. Was that it? Was that how Draco had supposedly 'proven' himself to Harry's Omega side?

"It's ridiculous, of course, because our bodies might have adapted, but the Classes aren't a conscious entity in us," Hermione was saying, working up to a spectacular rant. "Not to mention how incredibly caveman like that idea is!"

Harry let out the occasional hum in response, knowing she would like at least some kind of verbal confirmation that he was listening, but the truth was that his mind was in a completely different place than Hermione's issues with the Classes system.

Because he had a very big problem now. A problem that had the potential of fucking over his life severely.

He would have the pleasant task of informing Draco that not only did he indeed turn out to be an Omega, but he was also pregnant on top of that.

Great. That was going to be lovely to explain.

He didn't know how.

How was he supposed to inform his casual bedpartner turned boyfriend that he was pregnant? That he indeed was an 'O-type' as Draco had referred to it before? They had never talked about having children – and why would they when they had only been officially together for nearly three weeks now? Sure, they had been sleeping together for several months now, but their actual relationship had only started a couple of weeks ago.

Their budding relationship wasn't steady enough yet to welcome a child, the rational part of his mind argued. That part was right, of course. Even if he took into account the previous months they had been sleeping together, their relationship still wouldn't even pass the one year mark. They had known each other for far longer than that, naturally, but the majority of that time had been spent as rivals, even enemies at one point. Only in the last couple of years had their relationship made a complete turn.

A baby was still too early, though. Anyone would agree, especially because Draco hadn't even been aware he could get Harry pregnant. Hell, Harry himself hadn't been aware of that fact until it had been too late.

Why did nobody ever think to tell him these important things until it was already too late? Was it too much to ask to be informed of all the basic need to know topics of the Wizarding World?

Apparently it was and now he was in deep shit.

What was he supposed to do now? Keeping it a secret was out of the question, given that he would most likely start showing in a couple of months unless …

A loud sigh of frustration escaped him and he threw down the quill on his desk, staring broodily at the report he was supposed to work on. He was alone; Ron was still stuffing his mouth with lunch, but Harry hadn't been particularly in the mood to eat and had left his friend behind in the pub. The various smells of different lunch plates had clashed in the air, making him slightly nauseous and he had figured that working on the report would be time well spent instead of listlessly poking at his sandwich.

The problem was that he couldn't concentrate. His mind kept mulling about the news he had received two weeks ago and he was acutely aware of time ticking by steadily. So far only Hermione and Stone knew that he was pregnant. He had made Hermione swear not to tell Ron yet, fibbing that it wouldn't be fair if Ron knew first before the actual father, but the truth was that he didn't want to deal yet with Ron's reaction. Sure, he had reacted remarkably civilized at the notion that his best friend was now officially dating a Malfoy, but there was a stark and large difference between accepting the dating part and accepting that his best friend was expecting a baby of the other wizard.

And Draco … Given Draco's question during their first night together, it was clear he wasn't considering having children just yet and the dark haired man couldn't exactly blame him for that. They had started out as something casual and fun and only recently became serious about it – a baby didn't fit yet.

He had … weighted his options these past two weeks. His breath escaped slowly through his teeth as he cast a glance at his stomach. It was still flat, of course, and firm thanks to the training and the various duels he was in. Aurors in the field had to be in great condition after all. But he wouldn't remain this way for much longer. How much time did he have left before his body would betray his secret? Two months, three months? Maybe four? But that would probably be pushing it.

He wouldn't be able to do any kind of field work for quite some time. It wouldn't be safe after all. So desk duty? That would probably drive him mad after a while, but he wouldn't really have a choice.

Unless he terminated it. There was still time for that, the pamphlets stated. He had snatched them from the hospital a week ago when he had pretended to visit a colleague, had stuffed them in his pocket as quickly as he could once he had been certain nobody was in the vicinity. He had needed information and he was adamant that for once he wouldn't go to Hermione for it. She would only start interrogating him again, asking him and then insisting he should tell Draco about this, getting upset at his evasive answers. He knew he should tell Draco, but …

What if there was nothing to tell? The secret was his, it was his body, he was the one making the decision. If he went through with it – the pamphlets gave him around two more months to undergo the procedure – then he wouldn't need to tell Draco about it. The blond would be none the wiser and Harry could find a good moment to inform him he was an Omega. He had even looked up the contraception charms – and wasn't that something he thought he would never have to use? – to prevent another accident in the future.

Just one appointment, swearing the Healer to secrecy, and it would all be over. Just like that. Draco would never need to know.

He had thought about it these past two weeks a lot, even remaining awake longer at night because his brain was incapable of shutting down quickly. He considered the pros and the contras, imagined the various ways Draco could react to the news. Tried to envision how it would be to take care of this child. He was helping Andromeda raise Teddy, yes, so he wasn't completely clueless about child rearing, but it was … It was still different. Helping raise Teddy and raising his own baby; that wasn't entirely the same.

Would Draco support him? Would he still want to be with him? Or would he think Harry had tricked him, that he had lied to him? That possibility existed. And it frightened him to be honest. He was still coming to terms with everything he had been told about the Classes and the news of his pregnancy – losing Draco on top of that because of his stupid biology …

It would hurt, no doubt about that.

If Draco knew about it, there was a chance he would choose to distance himself from it, to reject the baby and Harry consequently. If Harry terminated the pregnancy and never spoke about it, he couldn't possibly lose Draco through that. Perhaps they would break up in the future, but it wouldn't be because of an accidental pregnancy.

However … Harry couldn't.

He had walked around with the idea of terminating it for a couple of days; the thought lingering in the back of his mind as he went through the motions of his job, as he kissed Draco when they met up, as hands caressed and stroked his body, lips rubbing against his lovingly.

He had thought about it – and realised he couldn't go through with it. The timing was far from ideal, he risked losing Draco over this, he was still trying to get used to the thought of being an Omega – but he just couldn't. Maybe it was his Omega side – even though Hermione kept insisting the Classes weren't a conscious entity – but Harry balked at the thought of going through with the procedure. If he took that potion, if he went through the cramps and the bleeding while a Healer was nearby in case of an emergency, he would never forgive himself.

No, the timing wasn't exactly perfect, but … It wasn't that bad either. He could lose Draco over this or he could still have him; both options remained on the table as long as the blond didn't know about it.

Getting rid of the baby, though, was no longer on the table. It wasn't an option anymore.

Now he just had to inform Draco about his upcoming fatherhood – and hope he would get the chance to explain everything before the other man would assume he had been tricked.

A knock on the door shook him out of his reverie and he blinked, a bit disoriented. Sitting up straight, he called out, "Yes?"

Sarah Green – an Auror who had started one year after Harry – poked her head inside, pushing her long, black curls impatiently behind her shoulders. "Kingsley wants to speak to you, Harry," she remarked. Her left arm was still in a swing; the bones fractured and broken in several places during a fight a couple of days ago.

"Did he say why?" Harry rose up, stuffing the report in his drawer for now. Was it a new mission?

She shrugged. "No, just that he needed to speak to you as soon as possible."

"All right, thanks for letting me know, Sarah."

She nodded and disappeared, most likely going back to her own desk where she was confined to for as long as it took for her arm to heal.

He didn't meet anyone on his way to Kingsley; most Aurors were either eating lunch or were gone on a mission. Kingsley's office was at the end of a long corridor; the door made of a thicker wood than that of the other offices. He knocked on it; the sound echoing a bit in the empty corridor.

"Come in!" Kingsley's voice drifted through the door.

"You asked for me, sir?" Harry closed the door behind him, looking questioningly at the other man.

Kingsley nodded and smiled, gesturing for Harry to take a seat. "Yes, I did. This won't take long, I promise."

"A new mission, sir?" Harry inquired curiously, sinking down in the chair in front of the large desk. "Ron's still eating lunch."

Kingsley raised an eyebrow, looking slightly bemused. "No, not a new mission. I received a message from Healer Stone."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. "Why would he sent you a message?" he asked perplexed. Healers only had contact with the Head Auror if the latter came to inform himself about the state of one of his Aurors after a battle.

"When it comes to certain conditions, the Healer is required to give me the information so that I can take precautions," Kingsley replied calmly, folding his hands over the report he had been perusing before Harry had entered the office.

"Certain conditions?" Harry repeated slowly; an alarm going off in the back of his mind.

"You didn't inform me you're pregnant," Kingsley stated, but his eyes were warm instead of chiding.

With a groan the dark haired man slumped back in the chair, running his hands over his face. "That's because I'm still wrapping my mind around it that I am. I didn't even know I could have children," he admitted reluctantly.

The older wizard nodded slowly. "Well, first of all congratulations," he smiled. If he thought it odd that Harry hadn't known he could become pregnant, he didn't show it. "That brings me to the point of this meeting, though. Given your condition, it would be very ill advised if you continued your regular work. As of now you're placed on desk duty up until you'll take your leave."

Harry swallowed, but inclined his head, having realised as well that chasing criminals in his current state would be more than downright stupid. "What about Ron?"

"He'll be partnered with someone else in the meantime."

"Can you – not tell him what the real reason for my desk duty is?" Harry requested hesitatingly.

"You haven't told him yet?"

"No, eh, I'm planning on doing it soon, but …"

Kingsley raised a hand and shook his head smiling. "I understand. My cousin also wanted to wait until she felt it was safe to inform everyone." His eyes twinkled. "Don't worry, I won't tell him the truth. I'll just tell him it's because you need to catch up on your paperwork."

"Well, he'll definitely believe that," Harry grumbled with a light grimace. "Thanks, Kingsley."

"No problem. I'll let you get back to your work."

Well, at least he would make progress with his paperwork from now on.

A couple of weeks and some mornings spent hanging over a toilet, Harry decided enough was enough and he needed to inform Draco now. Soon he wouldn't be able to hide it any longer; already he thought he could feel the barest hint of a bump forming when he placed his hand on his stomach. With him having entered his third month, he thought it would be safe enough to confess. He remembered hearing – when he was much younger and listening secretly to the television at the Dursleys – that the first three months were tricky. He didn't know whether that warning counted for him too, but he'd rather not take any chances.

He regretted not telling Draco earlier about this – if the blond would become angry about this, he wouldn't exactly blame him – but what if he had told him and afterwards it had ended badly?

But he was three months far now and it was high time he told the father of his baby about him or her. Either Draco would react well … or not. If he didn't react well … Harry would just have to figure out what to do then later.

The green flames spat him out in Draco's small foyer and he took a moment to regain his balance; falling flat on his face would not do at all.

"Draco?" he called out, surprised to not be met with the blond immediately. Furrowing his eyebrows, he checked his watch. Six thirty, like they had agreed yesterday.

Muffled footsteps sounded above him and when Harry entered the hallway, Draco appeared on the top of the staircase. He was adjusting his collar and Harry's breath hitched when he took in how the blond looked like. He wore magnificent, midnight blue robes, trimmed with silver; the deep blue and the subtle silver colours made his eyes stand out, their own colour luminous. Not even the sky darkening outside, promising a heavy bout of rain or even snow could temper those blazing steel grey eyes.

Eyes which were currently assessing him disapprovingly. "You're not dressed," Draco chided him, descending the stairs swiftly.

Harry looked down, cocking his eyebrow as he briefly considered his ensemble of a dark blue sweater and black trousers. He had made a quick stop at his own place to change out of his Auror robes. "I'm pretty sure I'm wearing clothes," he commented dryly.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Did you forget? We're attending the Christmas ball at Malfoy Manor," he reminded the younger wizard.

Harry froze and cursed, rubbing his forehead briskly. "Shit, I forgot," he admitted with a groan. Nervous as he was at the prospect of informing Draco he would be a father, it had completely slipped his mind that they were supposed to attend an early Christmas party today.

"And this is why house elves come in handy," Draco snorted, clapping his hands together. "Dippy!"

Immediately a house elf – still a young one by the lack of wrinkles – popped up right next to Draco. Dressed in a simple grey loincloth, Dippy regarded his master with big, light blue eyes. "Yes, Master Draco Malfoy?" he squeaked.

"Harry and I will be attending the Christmas party at Malfoy Manor; make sure Harry is dressed appropriately," Draco ordered, gesturing towards the dark haired man.

"Draco, there really isn't any need for - "

"You're not going to attend my parents' party dressed like that, Harry," Draco sniffed, throwing a disdainful look at his clothes.

Harry wrinkled his nose, but knew that resistance was futile when Draco was in this particular mood. He could protest, throw a fit or try to talk his way out of this, but the end game would remain the same: him dressed in new robes. The only difference would be how long it would take to get him dressed. Considering the way Dippy was eyeing him almost maniacally, he doubted it would take long.

"Fine, but before we leave, can I talk to you?" Harry gave in, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"We don't have that much time anymore," Draco admonished him sharply. "Is the matter really pressing?"

Well, he had been keeping it a secret for a few weeks now; he supposed it couldn't be really called that pressing overall. Stomach doing a flip-flop, Harry answered, "Eh no, it can wait a bit longer."

Draco nodded, his features relaxing, and then he kissed Harry softly, squeezing his fingers fleetingly. "All right, I'll be waiting for you in the foyer."

His stomach churning, Harry swallowed and followed Dippy upstairs, where he allowed the house elf to take his measurements and work his magic on his clothes.

Perhaps it would be better to wait until after the party; this wasn't news he could rush after all and he didn't want to ruin the party in case Draco didn't react that positively.

He just had to wait a little bit longer; what was a few more hours anyway?

"The party too overwhelming?"

The soft voice piping up behind him startled him and he hastily retracted his hand from where he had been reaching out to grab a book from the shelf. He was in the grand library, having escaped the party in the ballroom in favour of the quiet solitude of the library. A spark of amusement briefly flared up as he mused that his retreat to the library made him resemble Hermione in the regard.

He turned around, smiling sheepishly as he lowered his hand. "Just needed some space from the … attention I was getting."

The party itself wasn't too loud or overwhelming, but witch after witch and wizard after wizard insisted on talking to him, mostly about subjects he knew nothing about. He would have used Draco as a shield, as the other man thrived in social events as this one, but he had lost sight of him once Lucius had drawn him into a conversation.

The longer he had remained downstairs, surrounded by people he didn't know and yet who still insisted on talking to him as if they were old friends, the more unease had started to build up until he had slipped out of the ballroom in search for some peace and quiet.

Narcissa nodded in understanding, but instead of leaving, she entered the room completely, drawing the doors shut behind her. Her silver blue robes glittered in an otherworldly way, making her look like some kind of ancient goddess with her long, blonde hair cascading down like a waterfall and her slender hands nearly completely covered by her sheer looking sleeves.

She was unbelievably beautiful and not for the first time Harry realised Draco had got his beauty from his mother.

"Given that my son hasn't told me the news yet, I assume you haven't informed him yet?" she inquired serenely, folding her hands in front of her stomach.

Harry gazed at her confused, but when she looked meaningfully at his lower stomach, everything clicked and he flushed. Reflexively his hands slid to cover his stomach as if protecting it from her knowing gaze. "Eh no, I – I haven't told him yet," he replied, voice wavering slightly.

"I assumed correctly then." She pursed her lips together and the warmth in her gaze cooled slightly; her eyes gaining an edge that had Harry unconsciously taking a few stumbling steps backwards. "He didn't mention you're an Omega."

"That's because I only found out that I'm one a few weeks ago," he answered, more defensively than he had wanted. He didn't want her to think he was tricking her son, though.

She blinked, seemingly surprised. "You didn't know?" she murmured; her face gaining a distant look.

He shrugged stiffly. "Nobody told me about the Classes."

"How did you find out then?"

"I had to go to the hospital a while back after a battle and the Healer told me my results came back positive for pregnancy," he explained, wrapping his arms around himself. "Hermione explained everything to me afterwards."

She nodded slowly. "I'm sorry you had to find out about the Classes like that," she spoke and her demeanour shifted again, turning friendly once more. "Has Draco told you what he is?"

"No, the Classes are supposed to be private, right?" he recalled Hermione's explanation.

"They are, yes," she agreed and wandered closer. "I'm not going to reveal my son's Class – he wouldn't forgive me if I told you in his stead." She smiled faintly.

"How, eh, how do you know I'm pregnant?" Harry asked tentatively. "Is this – is that something some Classes can do?"

She laughed gently; a melodious sound which trickled down around him like warm water. Amused she answered, "If that was an ability tied to my Class, my son would already have known even without you telling him."

So whichever Class Narcissa was, Draco was too; not that that really helped him eliminate the options. All three Classes were still possible.

"No, I merely assumed correctly because of the certain glow you have surrounding you. I've been pregnant before; I know which symptoms to look for," she explained smiling.

"Oh." He blushed, feeling a tad embarrassed.

"A word of advice," she suddenly said, capturing his attention immediately. "Our Class tends to be … quite protective of our partners. My son more so when he finds out that you're pregnant. Lucius was the same way back when I was carrying Draco."

"Well, I suppose protectiveness isn't that weird?" Harry hedged, frowning slightly.

Her blonde hair glistened when she dipped her head. "Perhaps not, but the protectiveness of our Class is amplified during pregnancies. As you apparently weren't sufficiently prepared for this, I'll give you some advice: be careful of who you come into contact with. Some Classes will provoke a – more extreme reaction in my son than others."

His frown deepened; just how much did he still not know? "How extreme are we - "

"Mother."

A guttural growl cut straight through Harry's question and he twisted around sharply; his eyes widening when he caught sight of Draco. The older man was looming in the doorway; the lights of the hallway casting shadows over his face. His eyes were burning, though, glowing eerily as they landed on Narcissa.

She raised her hands as if surrendering and took a few steps back. Away from Harry, he realised somewhere in the back of his mind. The rest of his attention was focused on the way Draco resembled some kind of predator, tense like a panther ready to pounce.

"Did your father finally release you?" she asked mildly. "I think it's safe to assume you're happy to be back with your partner again."

Draco blinked and relaxed, leaning casually against the doorjamb now. "He's looking for you," he confirmed; his gaze drifting towards Harry now.

She nodded, smiling serenely. "I'll leave you two alone then." She almost seemed to float above the floor; her footsteps not making any sound as she walked towards Draco. She paused next to him and looked at him in a peculiar way. Nothing was said between mother and son, though, and she drifted out of the library as silently as she had entered it.

Draco closed the door behind him quite firmly. "You weren't downstairs," he remarked, closing the distance between him and Harry in a couple of long, quick strides.

"Just needed to get away from it for a while and I couldn't find you immediately," Harry admitted, leaning his arse against the sturdy, dark wooden table behind him.

"You could have asked a house elf for help," the blond pointed out with a frown, coming to a halt right in front of the dark haired man.

Harry smiled wryly. "Didn't think of it."

Draco shook his head, letting out a long suffering sigh. His hand reached out, curling his fingers around Harry's. "You want to go back now? I promise I won't leave you on your own from now on."

Harry exhaled slowly, acutely aware of how silent the library was. There was only their breathing; none of the music or the chattering or laughter downstairs could penetrate through the bubble of silence surrounding them. Perhaps it was a spell; perhaps the materials the manor was built with cancelled all sounds on their own. If he hadn't been at the party himself, he could fancy he was completely alone with Draco in the manor now.

Narcissa's warning lingered in his mind and his fingers spasmed around Draco's; his stomach feeling knotted all of a sudden. He didn't exactly understand what her warning had been about, but he couldn't keep silent about this.

"Draco, there's something I need to talk about with you." Despite spoken softly, his words seemed to ring loudly in the large library, bouncing back and forth between the hundreds of books lined up the shelves.

Draco stilled, studying him with unreadable eyes. "Now?"

"Yeah, now."

The blond pursed his lips, retracting his hand. "Are you breaking up with me?"

"What? No!" Harry exclaimed shocked, waving his hands in denial. "No, why would you think that?"

"What else am I supposed to think when you look so solemn?" Draco huffed, crossing his arms.

Running his hands through his hair, paying no attention to Draco's irritated cluck of his tongue at the gesture, he briefly turned away from the blond, gathering his thoughts together. This was it; he would finally tell Draco what he has been keeping a secret for weeks now.

"Harry?"

He took a deep breath and his stomach did an odd flip when he faced Draco again. The older man was regarding him with a frown, but worry lurked in the depths of his eyes.

"I – there are two things I need to tell you," Harry started haltingly, linking his hands together behind his back to cease fiddling with his fingers.

"Okay," Draco said slowly, apprehensively.

"The first thing is that – I didn't know about the Classes," Harry admitted and bit down on his lower lip.

Grey eyes blinked. "What do you mean, you didn't know about the Classes?"

"Just as I said: I didn't know the Classes existed until a few weeks ago." His stomach was no longer doing flips but actively rolling now and he prayed he wouldn't have to throw up. Still nausea lingered in the pit of his stomach and he swallowed with some difficulty.

"How can you not have known about it? It's something everyone's taught once they reach the proper age," Draco questioned perplexed, looking honestly stumped at the thought that someone could have been ignorant of the Classes for so long.

His lips twisted in a bitter parody of a smile. "Well, it's not like I had parents who could have told me."

Draco winced visibly, but shouldered on, "But my cousin, Sirius Black - "

"Never was really alone with him and he died before he could tell me."

"Lupin?"

"I don't think he would have considered himself to be the right person to tell me," Harry snorted, crossing his arms as well.

"Surely that old coot …"

"Dumbledore was never really forthcoming with information. He also thought I would be dead before I turned eighteen years old, so I suspect he didn't see the use in telling me," Harry replied lightly and shrugged.

Draco rubbed his temples and pursed his lips. "You honestly didn't know anything about this?"

"No, nothing until Hermione explained it to me."

"But I asked you at the start whether you were an O-type …" Draco trailed off, lowering his arms slowly. He narrowed his eyes. "You said you weren't. If you didn't know what the Classes are, how - "

The younger man cleared his throat and looked away embarrassed. "I thought you were talking about blood types, okay? And since I have blood type A …"

"Why the hell would I be talking about blood types?" Draco asked exasperatedly, shaking his head.

Harry turned his head to face him again, scowling. "I don't know! Maybe there was some sort of ridiculous Pureblood rule that said you couldn't sleep with people of blood type O. Not like all your rules make sense!"

"Oh my god," Draco groaned and closed his eyes momentarily as he briskly rubbed his hands across his face. "Blood types. Of all the … You know what? I'm not even that surprised that you thought about something like that."

Harry bristled offended and glared at the other wizard. It wasn't his fault nobody ever told him these things on time!

"How did you find out about the Classes then?" Draco demanded.

"I had to go to Saint Mungos a while ago after a battle," Harry started and the nervous butterflies were now more like raging gnomes, stampeding around in his stomach. "The Healer, he – my results gave away which Class I am."

"There wouldn't be any need to cast the Class Spell on you at your age," Draco muttered seemingly to himself. "Especially not after you came to the hospital to receive treatment for your wounds. The results of that spell work can't reveal your Class unless …"

Harry held his breath at the sudden silence that fell, not daring to even move a muscle. He could see on Draco's face that he was puzzling the pieces together, mulling over the information he had just received and linking that to things he knew already.

"Harry, which Class are you?" Draco sounded eerily calm as if he was just discussing the ingredients list of a potion he had compiled. When Harry dared to look into his eyes, though, he shivered at the way they appeared to glow, even though his back was towards the light source.

"Omega."

The announcement was like a hammer slamming down; a final thunderclap. It hovered between them, explaining everything without needing any words. It didn't need more explanation. Draco was smart enough to figure out that Harry finding out his Class through his medical results could only have happened because of one cause. Steel grey eyes tracked Harry's body slowly, lingering at his waist.

"How long?"

"Three months."

The blond man closed his eyes; his face a pure blank mask. "How many people know about it?"

"The Healer. Hermione because she was there with me at the time. Kingsley knows because the Healer sent him a message. And – and your mother discovered it just now. Said she recognised the symptoms because of her own pregnancy." Harry's mouth felt oddly dry; his voice scratchy as he answered. Irrationally he scolded himself for not having thought of bringing a drink with him when he escaped the ballroom.

"Does Weasley know?"

"No. I haven't told him yet."

"But you're still working." Silver grey eyes sharpened; Draco's features growing darker.

"Desk duty. Until I have to take my leave."

"And Weasley doesn't think that's strange?"

"He thinks it's my punishment of Kingsley for not finishing my paperwork on time."

"He believes that?" Draco sneered; his upper lip curling up.

"He hasn't pestered me about it yet, so …" Harry licked his lips. "I assume he believes it, yeah."

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Anger coloured Draco's voice, but there was the underlying current of hurt, of betrayal too and Harry flinched, guilt once more surging upwards.

"Because I was trying to digest what I had been told. I never knew about the Three Classes until that hospital visit and suddenly I'm an Omega and I'm pregnant and I," Harry swallowed, shrugging helplessly, "I – I didn't know what to do. I remembered what you asked me before and – everything was just too much at once. I wanted to tell you sooner, but … I was scared," he admitted quietly.

"Are you planning on keeping the baby?"

Harry nodded; his fingers digging into his biceps. His legs felt all jelly like suddenly and he braced himself against the edge of the table, hoping he wouldn't collapse. That would be beyond embarrassing. "I want to keep the baby. I don't think I could forgive myself if I – if I terminated this pregnancy," he confessed and looked at Draco, taking in and memorizing his features. Maybe this would be the last time Draco would want to be near him. Resignation cloaked his voice when he continued, "I'd understand if you don't want the baby and want to break up. I'm not going to force the baby on you, but I …"

"I didn't exactly envision becoming a father this early," Draco said abruptly; his face still unnervingly blank.

Harry pressed his lips tightly together and nodded tersely. He understood, he really did; Draco had been clear at the start that he wasn't interested in children, but … He hadn't realised how much it would hurt to hear Draco rejecting the baby, rejecting him.

"And I wish you had come to me sooner instead of working yourself up into this ridiculous tizzy," Draco went on and scowled.

Anger sparked and Harry glowered right back. "There's nothing ridiculous about - !"

"I'm in it if you are."

Harry jerked back, disoriented as if he had just sustained a blow to the head. "What?"

"I'm ready to become a father if you are," Draco repeated calmly, but his fingers were twitching slightly near his hips – a sign Harry had come to read as Draco being nervous.

"You don't have to," Harry started, but was abruptly cut off by a pair of impatient lips and fingers clenched black strands between them, tilting his head back so that Draco could attack his mouth, making use of his startled gasp to slip his tongue inside.

Draco pulled back just as abruptly, his cheeks flushed, his eyes glittering as he glared at the dark haired man. "But I want to," he snapped. "You think I'm going to bail on you? Fuck that! You're stuck with me now, Potter. Get used to that! I want this baby, you want this baby, so we're keeping him or her. It's that simple."

Still, Harry couldn't help but inquire nervously, "Draco, are you really sure you want - "

"I'm sure, yes. More than sure." His eyes gleamed when his arm slipped down to Harry's back, curving around his waist. "Let me prove to you just how sure I am," he whispered against parted lips.

And then the world was nothing but blazing heat, soft touches, and tender caresses. Kisses that drowned Harry and tender gazes which had him hiding his face against a bare shoulder, pushing back hot tears.

They were okay. More than okay even.

"What kind of Class are you then?" Harry inquired curiously; his fingers tracing idle designs across Draco's back. There were faint, red welts running down from his shoulder blades to his arse; evidence of their lovemaking earlier at the library.

They hadn't stayed much longer at Malfoy Manor. After the first two times, with Harry sleepy and satiated, Draco had dressed himself, bundled Harry in his clothes and had carried him towards his old wing, using the fireplace there to Floo towards Draco's home.

"Alpha," Draco murmured; his eyes half lidded as his own hand wandered up and down over Harry's stomach. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth when he commented lightly, "I still can't believe you reached your age without knowing about the Classes."

Harry groaned dismayed and smacked Draco's back in retaliation. "Stop making fun of me! It's not my fault people keep hiding important information from me until it's too late!" He squinted suspiciously at Draco. "There's nothing else I need to know? Like that you're a Veela because you have Veela ancestors or so and I'm your destined mate?"

Draco's body shook with mirth as he laughed, hiding his face in his pillow while Harry poked him petulantly in his side.

"I'm serious!" Harry exclaimed, but a smile was threatening to spread out across his face too. "So? Veela or not? Can I expect you to pop wings any second now? What about a beak? Or talons?"

"No Veela ancestors in my family!" Draco chuckled, shifting his head to look at Harry. "Why? You want to be a Veela's mate?" he teased; eyes shining brightly.

"Pity," Harry mock pouted. "You'd look quite magnificent with wings I think."

Grey eyes rolled. "Sorry to disappoint you, love," he drawled, hooking his leg behind Harry's knee. "But I'm not going to turn into a Veela."

"Hm, so no other revelations that I really need to know?"

"None as far as I can recall."

Harry nodded satisfied, shuffling closer to his lover. "Good, because it's getting annoying being left in the dark all the time," he huffed and looked contemplatively at Draco's shoulder. "Maybe I should give up on being an Auror and become a writer."

"A writer? And what would you write then? How not to be an oblivious little shit?" Draco snorted, smirking when Harry pinched his side.

"An introduction to the Wizarding World; there's a serious need of guidebooks like that," Harry mused. "Would prevent a lot of trouble I think."

"And yet that particular trouble only seems to find you," Draco pointed out smirking.

"Aren't you supposed to be supportive of me?" Harry complained and then gasped surprised when he was rolled onto his back, Draco settling on top of him.

"Why don't I show you just how supportive I am?" Draco purred and dipped his head, locking their mouths together in a deep, bordering on filthy kiss.

A how to wizard guide actually didn't sound that bad. But, Harry thought as he linked his arms around Draco's neck and gave himself over to him, there are far more important things right now.

Like the man between his legs and the baby growing slowly but steadily in his belly.

Perhaps this time it wasn't so bad that he had remained in the dark for so long. Because he had Draco and a baby on the way; there were worse things to come out from his obliviousness he was sure.

Emerald green eyes glittered as brightly as its namesake gem as Harry accepted Draco in his body. "I love you," he whispered against reddened lips.

A hand came to rest on his belly and a mouth curled into a smile against his own. "I love you too."

Yeah, a how to wizard guide would be great, but this, Draco and their baby …

This was infinitely better.

The End

AN2: I admit that some scenes - particularly the last ones - gave me some trouble, but I hope they're not too bad! And I hope the ending scene wasn't too bad either ^^;

Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me!

I hope to see you all back in my future stories!

Cuddles

Melissa

P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.