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Title: Never Easy Part XI
Author: Ruby13b
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: R
Warnings: Adult Language, Sexual Content, Mpreg
Summary: Sequel to The Recovery Boys. Loose ends are tied up. New drama occurs. It's never easy for Harry and Draco.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am owned by no one. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling. I am not being paid for this.

This is a Harry/Draco fanfic. Meaning boy/boy. If you don't like don't read. You have been warned.

Harry had not seen Mumble for nearly two months. In fact, he had not seen him since the strange dream he’d had about the garden and mysterious room. Now Harry spent the time when Draco was still asleep in the morning to go looking for the house-elf. He wasn’t having an easy time of it, either. House-elves really were good at avoiding people, if they wanted to. Like every other morning, Harry eventually gave up and decided to have a cup of tea in front of the fire. He leaned his head back against the cushion of the chair, closing his eyes. He had to find Mumble. The house-elf knew something. He was certain of it. If only he could find him.

Draco was now more pregnant than ever, as he neared his final weeks of the pregnancy. Harry was going to be glad when it was completely over. Draco had been right when he said that Harry was making himself into a nervous wreck. Harry couldn’t help but worry about Draco. Harry was doing the best that he could to keep his emotions in check. Though, like always, he wasn’t having an easy time of it. Harry had become even more perturbed of late since he hadn’t told Draco about the dream, the room or the mysterious blond boy that looked like Draco. No, the mysterious blond boy that was Draco.

There was a sudden creak of a floorboard near the door, announcing someone’s presence. Harry cracked one eye open to see Draco standing in the doorway, rubbing his eyes with his fist. Draco was wrapped in a green fluffy robe which was tied around his protruding belly with a black sash. Harry’s entire face softened when he saw him.

“Shouldn’t you still be in bed?” Harry asked. He held out his hand to Draco. Draco smiled sleepily and went to him, sitting down in Harry’s lap. Harry’s arms immediately went around him, holding him close. Draco snuggled his face into Harry’s shoulder.

“I can’t sleep without you,” Draco sighed. “I wake up every time you leave.”

Harry stroked the back of Draco’s head. He ran his fingers through Draco’s smooth locks. How was it that Draco’s hair was always so soft? Why did Draco always smell so good? Draco’s scent always reminded Harry of morning. He loved that smell.

Draco grabbed Harry’s tea from the table next to the chair they were sitting in and took a sip from it.

“You always put so much sugar in your tea,” Draco commented.

“I can’t help it,” Harry said as he took the cup from Draco and placed it back on the table. He then kissed Draco on the nose. “I like sweet things, after all.”

Draco wrinkled his nose. “You say the most ridiculous things,” he said.

Harry laughed, but then suddenly stopped. Out of the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he had just seen a flash of silky blond locks peak out of the doorway and then disappear. Draco looked over in the direction where Harry was gazing, frowning.

“Is something wrong?” Draco asked, turning back to Harry. “You’ve seemed rather distracted lately. Are you alright?”

Harry didn’t answer right away. He was still staring at the door. It couldn’t be…could it? For that brief second it had looked like the child Draco. Was Harry the only one who could see him? Harry was losing his mind. He was certain of it.

“I’m fine,” Harry finally said, turning back to Draco and flashing him his most convincing smile, which didn’t convince Draco at all.

“Are you feeling well?” Draco asked, placing a hand to Harry’s forehead.

“I’m fine, Draco,” Harry repeated. “There’s no need to fuss.”

“Yes, that is your job, isn’t it?” Draco commented lightly. “I’m afraid I really must steal it from you and insist that you do something for yourself. Why don’t you take a walk outside? The garden is really lovely frozen over.”

“Garden?”

“Yes, Potter, we have a garden,” Draco said. “Go on, the fresh air will do you good. I’m afraid you’ve become rather mental, being cooped up.”

“But…” Harry tried to argue, but Draco cut him off.

“I’ll be fine,” Draco insisted. “I’ll be upstairs keeping the bed warm.”

Harry realized that he had no choice. He got up from the chair, kissed Draco on the forehead and headed out. Draco was right; the fresh air would do him good. And besides, how much trouble could he get into in a garden?

~~~

Harry stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat and kicked at the ground moodily. In spite of what Draco had said, being outside was not making him feel any better in the slightest. It was pretty, though. Icicles hung from the branches on the hedges, making everything seem to sparkle and shine.

Rounding the bend, Harry stepped into the core of the garden. What he saw caused him to stop out of pure shock. The garden was identical to the one which had been in his dream. The same swing hung from the enormous oak tree. The season was different, of course, than it had been in his dream, but there wasn’t a single plant out of place. The only thing that was missing was the smiling faces of Draco and his daughter.

Seeing the garden just as it had been in his dream sent indescribable emotions through Harry that he couldn’t explain. He felt bewildered beyond belief about just how the garden had materialized into his dream. He had never been in this place before. He had never even been outside on the Manor grounds, but seeing it as it was, he knew it was a place he would want to return to.

Harry walked over to the swing, laying his hand on the flat smooth surface of the wood which made up the seat. Harry sat down tentatively, twisting an arm around the rope from which the swing was hanging. Sighing, he wondered if Draco had spent much time in this garden as a child. To be completely honest, Harry had never thought of Draco as the ‘outdoors’ type. He was more the ‘I’ll-sit-in-my-bed-while-you-bring-me-everything-I-need’ type.

Harry felt a sudden tugging at his sleeve. Looking down, Harry was met with the gray eyes of a flaxen haired little boy. Harry was taken aback by his startling emergence. Harry had not expected to see the boy so clearly again.

“Excuse me,” the boy said. “If you’re not going to swing, can I have a go?”

“Err, yeah,” Harry said, jumping out of the swing.

“Thanks!” The boy beamed. He clambered up onto the swing, wrapping his arms around the rope as Harry had just done moments before.

Harry watched the child in utter astonishment. Draco had been right; Harry was losing his mind. They would be carting him off to St. Mungo’s in no time. The child turned around, flashing Harry a wide grin. Yes, Harry Potter had gone mental. He was sure of it now.

“Excuse me?” the boy asked. “Would you mind giving me a push?”

“Errr, sure,” Harry said. He walked around to the other side of the swing. Settling his hands on the back of the swing, Harry gave a small push.

“Higher! Higher! Faster! Faster!” the child yelled happily.

Harry complied, putting as much force into it as he could. The child’s laugher became louder and louder as he swung higher and higher. Harry’s confusion was growing with every push of the swing, building along with the child’s joy. Harry couldn’t understand what was going on. Who was this child? What did he want? Was Harry the only one who could see him? Even though Harry had asked himself these questions many times, it never seemed to stop him from asking them one more time.

“Where’s the door?” the boy suddenly cried happily.

Harry abruptly stopped pushing. The child jumped out of the swing, soaring through the air and landing on the other side of the garden. The child turned around to face Harry. He wore a playful smile on his face.

“Where’s the door?” he repeated.

“I don’t know what you…” Harry started, but stopped when the boy darted behind the hedge. “Draco, wait!” Harry called.

The boy appeared from behind the hedge a moment later. He was staring at Harry like he had never seen anything quite like him before.

“You know my name,” he stated quietly. He then ran over to Harry, taking him by the hand and pulling him. “What fun!” he exclaimed. “Play with me!”

With that, the child began pulling Harry by the hand, leading him out of the core of the garden and into the hedge filled maze. The child never let go of Harry’s hand as they ran. Harry allowed himself to be guided through the maze. The child seemed to know the layout and appeared to know where they were running. They whipped around another corner and the child suddenly stopped. The child let go of Harry’s hand, leaning against the hedge and sliding slowly to the ground. He drew his knees into his chest and buried his face.

“We’ll be safe here,” the child explained. “They won’t find us here.”

“Who won’t find us here?” Harry questioned. This was getting beyond his control.

The child didn’t answer. He reached up and pulled Harry down beside him, lacing their fingers together and leaning his head against Harry’s arm. Harry felt extremely uncomfortable with this new development. The only person he had ever held hands with was Draco. But this was Draco, just not the Draco he knew. Draco looked up at Harry, tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. Harry was overcome with a feeling of pity for the child. He quietly wiped the tears away with his thumb. The child leaned into the touch.

“Who are we hiding from?” Harry asked gently.

“They’re arguing again,” Draco answered. Harry was about to ask who, when Draco answered. “Mother and Father.” Harry said nothing. What could he really say? He had always assumed that Draco’s parents hadn’t gotten along, but actually confirming that assumption was different.

“Father doesn’t like Mother and me,” Draco continued. Fresh tears ran down his cheeks. Harry rubbed his shoulder soothingly. “Father doesn’t like Mother. Father doesn’t like me. Mother doesn’t like me. Nobody likes me. Do you like me?”

“Draco, you know I love you,” Harry said, before he could stop himself. He clapped his hand over his mouth, but it was too late. Draco had heard him.

Draco grinned and climbed into Harry’s lap. This was getting just plain wrong. This was a child. A child! This was not the Draco he knew. It hadn’t been a lie when he told the child that he loved him, but he wasn’t in love with him. That was the difference. What he felt towards the child was nothing more than platonic love. He was glad of that.

“I love you!” the child exclaimed. “Promise we will be together always!” He leaned his head against Harry’s chest, reaching up and curling a finger around Harry’s hair. Harry rocked the child back and forth and suddenly Harry wondered what it would be like having a son rather than a daughter. Harry was certain this is what it would be like. Harry was happy they were having a girl, but having a boy would have been nice, too.

“I promise,” Harry whispered.

That seemed to be all the child needed to hear. He got up, kissed Harry on the cheek and skipped off. Harry was about to go after him when a snap of a twig made him stop.

“Harry Potter,” squeaked a voice behind him. Harry knew that voice. He had been searching for the owner of that voice. Harry turned around and was met by the trembling form of Mumble the house-elf.

“Mumble!” Harry exclaimed. “I’ve been looking for you!”

“Mumble knows this, sir,” Mumble said. “That’s why Mumble had to stay hidden.”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Harry said softly. “I just want to ask you a couple questions.”

Mumble was twisting his ears and looked extremely nervous. His eyes kept darting around and he was biting his lower lip harshly.

“Mumble is sorry, Harry Potter,” Mumble squeaked. “Mumble is sorry for everything!”

“What are you talking about?” Harry yelled. He grabbed the house-elf by the shoulders, shaking him a little.

“Mumble never wanted to deceive Harry Potter!” Mumble shrieked. “Mumble never wanted to hurt Master Draco!”

Harry felt his blood go cold and for a moment his breath caught in his chest. Finding his words, Harry stuttered, “Draco…is he…is…he…alright?”

The house-elf began howling. “Master Draco is…Master Draco is…not…Harry Potter!”

That was all Harry needed to hear in order to stop shaking and jump into action. Closing his eyes and hoping that there was no anti-Apparation charm on the house, Harry Apparated directly into Draco’s bedroom. There was no one in sight.

“Draco?” Harry called frantically. “Draco! Where are you?”

Harry ran into the bathroom. Draco wasn’t there. He turned back around, his eyes raking the room, desperately searching for something, anything that might be a clue. Harry then spotted a piece of folded-up parchment sitting on the bed. Harry ran over to the bed as fast as he could, opening up the parchment quickly and reading the contents as fast as possible. That wasn’t difficult since there was only one sentence:

We are waiting for you in the dungeon.

L.

Harry crumpled the letter with his fist, throwing it against the wall and screaming with anger.

“DAMN THAT LESTRANGE BITCH!” Harry bellowed.

Drawing his wand from his pocket, Harry Apparated into the basement of Malfoy Manor. Once in the basement Harry knew that there was only one place he needed to look. Harry made his way over to the mysterious door that he hadn’t been able to open, the door before which he had seen the child Draco for the first time. Harry pushed on the door. Creaking, it opened slowly. Harry stepped through, the door blew shut behind him, and Harry heard the distinctive click of a lock. It was a trap, obviously. That suited Harry just fine. If this was where Draco was, this was where Harry wanted to be. The room was dark and Harry couldn’t see anything in front of him.

“Lumos,” Harry muttered. Light burst out of the end of his wand. Harry moved the light around with his wand, taking in the room. Harry wasn’t overly startled when he saw that this was the room from his dream.

Harry spotted Draco on the floor, curled on his side. Harry was overcome with an overwhelming sense of déjà vu as he ran to him, turning him over and propping him up in his lap. Hadn’t they already done this once before? Harry ought to have killed the Lestrange bitch when he’d had the chance. He wasn’t making the same mistake twice. That was for sure.

Draco opened his eyes, tears clinging to his eyelashes. He raised a hand to cup Harry’s face.

“Harry,” he croaked. “Run!”

“I’m not going anywhere!” Harry insisted stubbornly.

“That’s right,” said a menacing voice behind him. Harry was certain his heart had just stopped at the sound. “Neither of you has anywhere to go!”