"Draco?" Harry called, shifting uncomfortably in the large water bed. As much as he loved his husband, Harry could do without Draco's odd sense of "luxury" items.

"Yes, dear?" Draco called from his walk-in closet, where he was trying to find the appropriate outfit for tonight's celebration. Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter were being honored for their joint work on a pointedly hard criminal case. They were the dream team of the wizarding world: The Ministry's Most Efficient Auror to Date and The Top Prosecuting Attorney in Wizarding Britain, together they would rid the world of evil one hex at a time.

Harry squirmed in his bed. He had already decided on his outfit for the night. He would wear a black pair of trousers with a slightly loose fit, so he could be comfortable for the constant sitting and standing and sitting again that these events always required, along with a white button-up, black sweater vest, and, of course, a green and silver tie given to him by his most loving husband. He had everything ready, his shirt was on and buttoned, but there was a problem.

He couldn't fit his pants on.

"Could you come in here, hun?" Harry asked sheepishly, unsure how to explain to his image-obsessed husband what exactly the issue was.

"Why are you standing in your underwear, love?" Draco quirked an eyebrow, "You know we haven't time to do anything before," the blond smirked, walking up to his husband, "As much as I want to," he admitted, slipping his hands around Harry's waist and pulling their lips together.

When the kiss broke, Harry was blushing, "No, uh, Drake, it's actually not that, as much as I'd like to...uhm...I have a problem."

"I can see that," Draco looked over Harry's tight boxers.

He covered himself ashamedly, "Malfoy!" he laughed.

"It's Potter, now, darling," Draco smirked, kissing his husband once again, "You're the Malfoy."

Harry was blushing still, "Yeah, I guess I am. Well, uhm, I actually do have an issue. You see, I can't fit my trousers on," he admitted.

"What?" Draco asked, confused, "What do you mean? Those are your loose pair."

"I know. I know. I've been having this problem. They've been the only pair I've worn recently and it's been all underwear or pajama pants around the house. I can't fit a single pair of my jeans, even. I don't understand. I haven't been eating or exercising any differently. Though I have been eating a lot more peanut butter and pickles lately. Not together, but I mean, well, actually, now that I mention it, that wouldn't be bad together, would it?"

Draco made a face, "It would definitely be bad to mix pickles and peanut butter. Salazar, what's gotten into you, Scarhead?"

"I mean, I don't know. It's that weird to have cravings and gain a little weight?"

"Wait."

"Yeah, weight."

"No, no I mean actually wait a second, here. Have you been sick at all?"

"No, not really. I get a little bit nauseous in the morning sometimes, but I've never been one to eat much in the morning anyways."

"And how's your back been?"

"Funny that you'd mention it, my lower back has been giving me some extra problems, but I just figured it was that new position you'd come up with a few weeks back," Harry winked, causing Draco to flush with pride in remembrance of his feat.

"Harry, how much do you know about Male Wizard's anatomy?"

"Not much, I figure it's about the same as Muggles, right? 'Cept our magical cores are functional?"

"Yes, but there are more differences. For instance, wizard's skin cells mimic the magic around them, allowing you to become invisible beyond the cloak or a charm. Additionally, male wizards have a part of them that can act as a psuedo-uterus, provided that the sperm used in said uterus is fertile, pure of lineage, and is perfectly compatible to the uterus in anatomical and magical structure. It's why the legend exists among magicfolk that men can be impregnated, but only by his soul mate, who must be of pureblood."

"I thought that was a myth. Weird. Why are you telling me this, Potter?" Harry emphasized the name, showing he did indeed remember their matrimony.

"Well, Harry, I think you just might be pregnant." Draco closed his eyes while he spoke, but as soon as he was done he opened them wide, watching Harry's face intently for a reaction.

He was silent for a moment. A very long moment. Much too long of a moment.

Then he burst into laughter.

"That's hilarious, Draco, way to work me up. You really had me going there," he chuckled, but stopped when he saw the confused look in Draco's eye, causing a similar expression to appear on his own face.

"I'm not joking, Harry. I think you're pregnant."

"What the hell, Draco?" Harry seethed after a long pause, "You need to stop trying to fuck with me like this. You know how much I've always wanted a family. You can't seriously think that it would be funny to get my hopes up, do you?"

Draco frowned at his aggressive husband, "I'm not fucking around, Harry. We'll set up an appointment, you'll see. I'm right."

"What about the party?"

"This is more important," Draco glared at the mirror, showing his perfectly trimmed white-blond fringe. His clean-cut gray suit. The deep red tie that his husband had picked out for him. he cleared his throat, mended the waist of Harry's pants to widen with a spell that left them just a bit loose, but all-in-all okay. Then, he took Harry's reluctant hand and walked him through the floo to St. Mungos.

"When you're wrong, will we go to the party?"

"I've already warned them as to why we're late."

"What did you say?"

"That there was some urgent business and we had to get to St. Mungos and we'd make it back if we could."

"Godric Draco, could you be less smooth? They're all going to freak out."

Draco rolled his eyes and had a snarky comeback on his tongue when his name was called. Well, Harry's name, now, "Mr. Malfoy," the two raised their hands and headed into the consultation room behind the nurse.

"The doctor will be with you in a moment."

"Thank you," Harry murmured, looking at Draco's face, which was slate clean. That was the face that Draco bore when he was feeling too much for his own liking. He seemed really torn up about this...Harry could barely keep himself from hoping. That stupid burning in the pit of his stomach. If Draco was telling the truth. If Draco was right…

He couldn't afford to have those kind of thoughts. He was Harry James Malfoy and nothing good ever happened to him.

"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter," Dr. Faridi smiled, looking to exactly the wrong man for each name, "What brings you here, today?"

"Sir, I believe Harry, here, is pregnant," Draco explained, and the doctor cocked a brow at the couple, astonished.

"I don't. It's not possible. We're both male. That's not how it works," Harry crossed his arms defiantly, though he still leaned against Draco in his seat on the bed.

"Mr. Malfoy, if I could have you step off the bed for a moment, please," Dr. Faridi asked kindly. Harry stood and Faridi blushed before correcting himself. When the proper people were lying and standing, he brought a wand-like object over Harry's stomach, only a thick slickening charm between the two pressures.

"Ahhh," the doctor smiled, stepping backwards. He set the large wand down and took out his own wand. "Here we go."

He took out his wand and waved over Harry's stomach, causing a 3D cast of the space to appear above their heads.

"I believe that would be him," Doctor Faridi sighed, looking to the ball with admiration, "This is history being made, boys. Only one other conception has ever been made in history. Well one other pair, I do believe they had two children. However, that's not the point, Harry Po-I mean Malfoy, the Savior of the Wizarding World, the Chosen One, the Man Who Lived Twice, is pregnant!"

Draco wanted to gloat at his husband, but seeing the tears of joy in Harry's eyes diminished any hope of being anything but sweet to the bearer of his child. He grabbed Harry's hand, who pulled him into a kiss.

"I'm sorry I ever doubted you," he said, wet cheek pressed to Draco's cleanly shaven jawline.

"Don't worry, dear, you couldn't have known," Draco smiled in his lover's hair, enjoying the boyish smell of Old Spice washing over him. Suddenly, he was pushed back to arm's length.

"You want it, don't you?"

Draco laughed, which stressed out Harry a bit more than was healthy, "Of course, Harry. He's our son."

"I'm so happy, Drake," Harry kissed him.

"Me too, Har-

"WHAT'S THE EMERGENCY WE HEARD THAT YOU WERE GOING TO ST MUNGOS FINALLY FOUND YOUR ROOM-BY GOD IS THAT A BABY?"

The Weasel had impeccable timing, after all.

An entire team of Aurors had arrived to make sure Harry was okay. That made a weight that Draco didn't know he was holding in his heart lift just a little. Harry would be well taken care of. Hell if he'd be doing more than desk jockeying for the duration of the pregnancy.

"Yes, Ron," Harry smiled, "Very observant of you. You know, I was hoping to do this with a bit more class," he winked at the blond above him, "but I should just let you know. That little baby boy is inside me."

"You ate a fucking baby?" Ron screeched, unsure whether to beat his best friend or throw up.

"No, you daft Weasel, Harry's pregnant," Draco drawled, unable to spend more than three minutes with the redhead without a fight.

Ron didn't even have a comeback. After all, what could he possibly say?

"A baby?"

The expectant couple nodded.

"How?"

"Magic," Draco said in the tone of a flashy magician, causing Harry to burst into laughter.