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Grey eyes stared down at the test on the counter. The small stick appeared completely innocuous, but he knew the truth.
“Fuck,” Draco whispered to himself, picking it up to examine it, as if one of the two lines would somehow just disappear.
“Draco, dear, are you alright?”
That was his mother, surely coming to check on him after he’d hurried out from their mid-morning tea to spill the contents of his stomach into the toilet. He’d been sick for days now, and his mother was beside herself with worry.
He hated himself a little more every time he saw the worry lines between his mother’s eyebrows.
“I’m alright,” Draco called, even though he felt anything but.
“Would you like me to get you something to settle your stomach?” his mother asked, her soft voice muffled by the door, and Draco wanted to cry now more than ever. He moved to slowly lower himself back to the floor, where he could lean against the vanity and bury his face in his hands. He felt shaky and weak from vomiting. All he wanted was for his mother to come in and hug him. He hadn’t felt so needy and childlike since he was still in school.
“Yes, please,” he managed to get out and hoped his voice didn’t sound as choked on the other side of the door as it did to his own ears. The sound of footsteps traveling away from the door was his only indication that his mother was going to get the potion, and Draco took the time to reach up and grab the test off the counter.
It was muggle, something he’d grabbed after work a week ago, before he’d even really started to feel sick. Somehow, he’d just known, but he hadn’t taken it until today. Like if he took it, somehow that would make it real. As if it would just go away if he ignored it.
After sitting on the hard tile of his bathroom floor for an hour as his stomach rejected his breakfast, he’d finally caved. While sitting and waiting for the lines to appear, he’d sat on the floor and found himself hoping he had some horrible disease rather than be—
He didn’t even want to think it.
Just then, there was a soft knock on the door, and Draco nearly dropped the test in his rush to hide it away. “May I come in?”
“Yeah,” Draco responded, heart racing from the scare.
The door opened slowly, and then his mother was standing in the doorway, concern etched all over her face. If he hadn’t already been on the verge of tears before, he would be now. Fighting to keep himself from crying, he used the countertop to stand shakily and take the vial from her.
“You’ve been sick for days now, Draco. I really think you ought to go see a healer.”
“I’ll go on Monday,” he promised, and felt instantly bad. He wouldn’t be going to a healer; there was no way he was ever letting anyone know what was currently happening to him. What an embarrassment that would be to his entire lineage. She seemed to know it was a lie, too, because her worry did not ease. Avoiding having to respond, he tipped the entire vial back into his mouth. Maybe if he kept his mouth busy, she wouldn’t push it.
Though he knew it could never be that easy. “I’m serious. You’re sick and need to see someone,” she insisted.
“Okay, I will. I promise. Monday.”
He knew she didn’t trust him. It was no secret he hadn’t been taking the best care of himself these last three years. Even the media had commented on how thin he looked recently. They’d claimed it was a result of dark magic practice and potion making, completely ignoring the obvious. Draco had rolled his eyes at the gossip rag and had thrown it away.
These last six months, he’d finally been doing better, though. Blaise and Pansy had dragged him out to “see the sun,” as Pansy had put it, and he’d been finally getting more interesting tasks at work.
Then, two months ago, he’d gone and made such a stupid decision. One that he thought might be worth it. It was something he’d decided to let himself have, a stupid wish he’d had since Hogwarts: to be something to Harry, even if only for a night.
He’d been slightly tipsy at a work party, one for a case the aurors had solved with the help of Draco’s department - Magical Accidents and Catastrophes - and both offices had decided to put together a celebration. Now, he barely even remembered what the case was. It now seemed so far away in the face of what was happening to him.
So, with some firewhiskey in his system and a little too much confidence than he thought he should be feeling, he’d talked to Harry. Harry, who’d been fresh out of a breakup with Ginerva Weasley. Who’d clearly been just wanting a hookup. Who’d seen the invitation in Draco’s eyes and followed him to bed.
Now, two months later, Draco was standing in a bathroom trying not to cry like a child in front of his only living parent, while Harry was none the wiser.
Part of him wanted to run and tell Harry, and the other part of him screamed to run away to a different country and change his name. The shame of his being a Veela would pale in comparison to the shame of being an unmated, male, pregnant Veela.
His father was probably rolling in his grave right now.
“Alright, Monday,” his mother finally agreed, clearly still unconvinced but also unwilling to fight the point. “For now, you need to get some rest.”
Draco let himself be steered out of his bathroom and into his bed. There was little fight in him anyway; all he wanted was to sleep and forget just how fast he’d fucked up his own life in a single night.
Two weeks later, Draco found himself standing outside of Harry’s office in the Auror Department at nearly the end of the day. His mother had taken to trying to set up a healer appointment for Draco herself after he’d refused to go, despite his promises. Lately, he’d been just leaving for work earlier and spending the morning sick in his office rather than worry her further.
He worried that if the nausea didn’t stop soon, he’d be packing his bags for Russia sooner than he thought.
Instead, he found himself doing the second stupidest thing he’d done in two months: finding Harry.
“Uh- hi,” Harry said when the door to his office opened. Clearly, he didn’t think it would be Draco on the other side when he’d knocked.
“Hi,” Draco said, shifting awkwardly on his feet. “Can I… can I come in?”
“Sure,” Harry said, stepping aside after a moment's pause, like he’d forgotten how to move in the face of Draco’s surprise visit.
Draco entered, glancing around at the shelf of books and at the other wall covered in pinned-up pieces of paper. “Wow, so this is where you work. Suppose I expected it to be quite a bit let organized.”
“What do you need, Malfoy?”
“You called me Draco, then.”
“What?”
Draco didn’t bother to respond, simply looking over at him until Harry seemed to get what he meant. The other man’s cheeks reddened slightly, and Draco felt a swell of pride at his ability to affect Harry like that until the expression on his face turned to annoyance.
“That was one night, we both agreed on that. Remember?”
Maybe this was stupid after all.
Draco continued.
“What if it wasn’t just one night, though? What if–”
“It was,” Harry cut in. “It was one night. That was it.”
“You know I’m a Veela, right?”
That seemed to surprise Harry a bit, at least. His expression shifted a little from completely annoyed to a flash of confusion. “What?”
“A Veela. I mean, I’m technically registered with the ministry. Magical beast and all… so you know?”
“Yes, I’m aware.”
“Are you aware how reproduction works in male Veela?” Draco asked, and for as bold as he’d been with everything else he’d said, his courage seemed to leave him with those words. Voice coming out almost breathy in his desperation to be rid of the secret that had been clawing at him for nearly eight weeks, while also wishing so desperately to take this to his grave.
Harry deserved to know, though. He’d decided that already.
It was after the words were out, however, that how bad that decision truly was became clear to him.
Dawning realization was clear across Harry’s expression before quickly turning to disgust. Draco wanted to recoil at the look in Harry’s eyes alone, it was a look that even during all the years of torment and bullying Draco had inflicted upon Harry in school, he’d still never had directed at him.
“I’m aware, though I’m not sure how it has any relevance.”
Draco opened his mouth to speak, to say anything that could fix this situation, but Harry was cutting across him with more venom in his tone than Draco had ever heard from the other man.
“Like I said, one night. It was only one night. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get home to Ginny.”
Ginny, Draco thought, unable to even come up with a single thing to say. Staring detachedly as Harry swept his stuff off the desk and into his bag. Without even a spare glance, Harry was stepping past him and out of the room.
Draco stood in the middle of the room for a moment longer, trying his best to even make sense of what he was feeling. Ginny and Harry had broken up, he knew that; though, clearly, the breakup hadn’t lasted long.
This was a stupid idea, he suddenly thought to himself, anger at himself bubbling up. Of course Harry was back with Ginny. Draco shouldn’t have thought any differently.
There was no way that Harry would ever want anything more to do with Draco, regardless. They had hardly spoken since school, and now, because of one single night, Draco was wishing for more like he had back when he was fourteen. What a ridiculous notion. What had he even been thinking?
And now, he’d implied–
Draco felt like he might be sick.
Fleeing out of Harry’s office and to the nearest bathroom, he made quick work of the locks before emptying any food he’d managed to keep down since lunch into the toilet. He heaved over the bowl, finally letting tears slip from his eyes. He felt them roll down his nose, eyes squeezed shut as he heaved with a choked sob.
He always hated throwing up, even as a kid. Now, he was pretty sure he’d never hated it more. In one night, he’d managed to throw out any chance at normalcy he’d ever have again. He’d lost any possibility of ever being anything more than a one-night stand with the boy he’d been hopelessly in love with since he was a child.
Not that he ever really had any chance, he thought bitterly.
Now, though, because he’d been stupidly hopeful, he’d even destroyed the possibility of one day maybe being friends.
And their kid–
Well, he supposed that was all he’d ever have of Harry.