Title: The Things He Does
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Harry/Ginny, Draco
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Rating: G
Warnings (Highlight to view): unrequited feelings
Word Count ~1400
Summary: "his unassuming crush had morphed and blossomed into something dangerous and unattainable"
Author Notes: Many thanks to my beta, A, for this and everything else I've thrown at her. You're awesome. kedavranox, thank you for the lovely prompt that I hopefully did justice to. Enjoy!

It was late in the night and Draco and Harry had just finished examining the scene of a murder. They had already gotten what information they could, taken the necessary statements from witness and were about to head back to the Ministry when it came, a zebra patronus. It ran up to Harry and delivered the news that Ginevra was in labour.

Harry just about went into shock. He froze and stared into space until Draco felt it pertinent to remind his partner to breathe. He had to pinch Harry when the action turned into something more along the lines of hyperventilating. It seemed he would need to play Harry's brain for a short while because h did not do much except test the limits of his eye opening skills and swallow all the saliva in his mouth.

Eventually the brunet realized that it would be sensible to apparate to St. Mungo's but nothing seemed to happen except more breathing, the trembling of hands and still more swallowing. Draco had reached a point where he automatically tried to comfort the other man whenever he was out of sorts and so he rested a hand on Harry's shoulder to steady him and calm him down. He ignored his own uneasiness -the sort that he usually only felt at any mention of Harry's wife and soon to be birthed offspring- and the itch to move his hand to the curve of Harry's back. He played the part of the reliable Auror partner and friend and, despite his better judgment and his own feelings, he apparated a non-functioning Harry Potter to the hospital.

Draco's intention was to drop Harry off and then leave but instead he found himself accompanying Harry to the waiting area when eyes that were both frightened and excited landed on him. He held no defences against Harry when he looked so helpless. Draco would have much preferred if the gratitude Harry had given him for it had been a rejection instead, so that he could go back to their work and bury himself in it rather than sit around in a too quiet room ignoring his emotions as he tried to be supportive and comforting, or as comforting as he was capable of.

Harry paced, muttered, sat and paced some more. He asked Draco things that he knew nothing about and fretted as if his wife had just been hit with a Disembowelling curse. Draco in turn lounged in the chair, slapped Harry upside the head when necessary, forced him to drink something to calm down and even got the nervous wreck to laugh a few times when he himself wanted a stiff drink. It was not fair how pleased he felt when he coaxed those grateful smiles from his partner.

One of Ginevra's screams managed to break through the wards and it sent Harry bolting for the door. Draco rushed after him and hauled him back to one of the chairs. He shoved Harry down into the seat and kept his hands firmly on top of Harry's shoulders to keep him there, forcing him back down whenever he tried to scramble for the delivery room.

They were close, close enough for Draco's knees to brush against Harry's and for his hair to fall into the man's face. Harry did not notice though, preoccupied as he was with staring a hole into the doors and holding onto Draco's biceps with trembling hands as he thought up every morbid scenario he could to fret over, impossible as most of them were. Draco squeezed Harry's shoulders tightly, and shook him harshly to snap him out of his overwhelming worry. He had also done it to make sure that his hands were too occupied to travel up Harry's neck and to his face. He avoided gentle touches as often as he could. They would likely tell too much.

Harry's head whipped around to face him and Draco said whatever he needed to so as to calm the other man. His own words lashed at him and reminded him of his ridiculous situation, rubbing salt into the wound. He let go of Harry and cautiously took a seat before he did something stupid, something desperate, something that could ruin their farce of a friendship and their Auror partnership.

When the Healer came out and put all of Harry's worries to rest he laughed, smiled and absolutely shone with joy. Draco tried hard not to stare, not to allow his eyes to fixate on Harry's euphoria. He tried to ignore the way his stomach both clenched and fluttered. He ignored the very present and very strong desire he felt, the desire he had harboured for Harry all these years and the desire to turn and flee when all the reasons he could not have the man were being thrown in his face.

Draco swallowed and took his own advice. He breathed.

In a rush of movement he found himself in Harry's tight embrace as words of jubilation rang loudly in his ear. It was unexpected, caught up as he was with his emotions. His arms moved of their own volition and reciprocated the hug. In a moment his mind caught up with what was happening. He utilized his many years of experience in schooling his expressions and hiding his emotions. Draco plastered a smile on his face, gave an acceptable chuckle and provided Harry with near-heartfelt congratulations as he remembered his role.

Draco played pretend. He played the happy friend. He played the supportive partner. Some of it was genuine of course. He could not begrudge Harry his happiness, not really.

With a small shove he sent Harry off, sent him towards Ginevra, his newborn son and the beginning of fatherhood. Harry caught his forearm with words of gratitude on his lips and the smile that Draco so loved to see before he went off. It was the smile that had convinced him to help Harry when he needed help picking somewhere for a surprise anniversary getaway because Weasley and Granger would give it away. It was the smile that had convinced him to listen to Harry's marital problems and offer helpful advice because he wanted Harry to look at him with it. It was that smile that let him know that somewhere along the line he had fallen for Harry harder than he had known and that his unassuming crush had morphed and blossomed into something dangerous and unattainable.

This time it was Draco who had frozen in shock except that no one was paying enough attention to him to do anything about it or remind him of basic bodily functions.

Through the closing door Draco saw Harry greet his sweat covered wife, saw the moment that Harry's expression turned to one of awe and wonder, saw Harry reaching out for the babe and the tears of joy that made his emerald eyes glisten. Draco saw so much in that short span of time and when the door clicked shut he was undone.

He folded his arms over his chest in an effort to keep himself together. He ached in ways that made him feel as if someone had cursed him square in the chest. It was spreading through him and breaking him into pieces. He needed to sit, needed to ground himself so that he would not cause a scene right outside the door of the damned delivery room.

Draco's feelings would go unrequited and he knew that and that probably should have hurt the most, except it did not. What hurt the most was how bloody happy Harry was, how happy and carefree and open. It was how Draco had found his own lips quirking into an actual smile at the sight the Potter family. It was the way he knew that while his heart had been breaking all over again he had stood there and done what he always did. He had had Harry's back, regardless of the way it grated at him.

What hurt the most was that he was happy for Harry.

All, he realized, because he was bloody in love.