Summary: Draco thinks he is pregnant, but Harry won't believe it for a minute. Regardless, Draco prepares for their child with eagerness.
Notes: For readers: next chapter on Tuesday. Thank you, maltkate22 for beta'ing this chapter!
Other chapters: One, Two | Four
Chapter Three: Worries
Draco wanted to get married before he got fat. He didn't think it was too much to ask.
He and Harry didn't know how long it would take to plan a wedding and didn't want a quick ceremony in a courthouse, so they asked the only married friends they knew. The sun was bright that day, and Hermione's face was, too, when Harry and Draco revealed the news. Roger even screeched, wanting to know if he could be the ring bearer.
"Where have you heard about ring bearers?" Harry asked as he pulled the boy into his lap.
"Daniel is David's brother," said Hermione. They were around a table in her garden, and she had Regina bouncing on her knee. "Roger was a spectacular ring bearer at that wedding."
"Aha," Harry growled, tickling Roger, "so you've got a monopoly on the job, do you?" Roger giggled and wrestled himself away from Harry and ran into the yard to play. Harry watched after him, saying, "I think we could arrange that."
"Sure we could," said Draco. "Since there's no one better for the job."
"But what about the actual wedding?" Hermione reminded them. "It took much longer than a couple months to plan mine and David's.
"Keep in mind we were both working at the time," said David. "Draco, don't you stay home?"
"Oh, yes," said Draco, sprawling back so widely that Harry had to shield his face from a stray hand. "I'm extremely rich! I don't need to work."
"So you'll be fine planning the wedding yourself?" Harry asked.
"No, I want you to help me."
"But I'm sure you'd do a fine job."
"I know, but I want you to help me." He trailed his thin, white fingers up Harry's wrist, and Harry grabbed them, determined not to blush in front of their friends.
"I'll see what time I can get off work," he said. "Otherwise, I'm all yours on the weekends."
"You're always all mine," Draco cooed, leaning toward Harry. They kissed.
David laughed. "Already acting like newlyweds."
Draco's eyes glistened in the sunlight, making Harry realize just how much he enjoyed being here with him. It was something he realized often, yes, but every time it happened a clenching sensation took over his stomach and he held Draco as close as he could. Draco's hair smelled lovely, as Harry rested his face against it, and felt warm from the noon heat.
They all lounged, talking idly and sipping water, until Roger came galloping back to the table with a green net in hand.
"Draco, Draco!" he said.
"Come with me. I almost caught a big yellow fish and I named it after you."
Draco looked at Harry, horrified. "The child has named something slimy after me."
David frowned at Roger. "Your mother and I have told you not to play near the pond without an adult."
"I'm sorry, Dad, but I had to! It was big and yellow and it was right at the edge."
"Well, you'll have to wait until later to go back."
"No! Dad, please, please---"
"Wait," said Draco, standing up. "I'll go with him. I want to see this creature with the honor of having my name."
"Let's go, hurry!" Roger shouted, and was gone in a flash with Draco sauntering behind.
Seeing the way Draco interacted with Roger, Harry was starting to look forward to this child he and Draco were going to have. He imagined Draco and himself teaching a girl with bows on her dress how to feed her cat, or watching Draco read a story to a boy with black hair. He sighed.
"You look positively blissful," said Hermione.
"I'm wondering what my life will be like a few years from now." He shook his head. "I don't have a clue why I waited so long to start a family. I'm twenty-seven years old. Your kids and mine could be somewhere playing together right now, Hermione. They could be best friends."
"I'm sure they'll be fond of each other when they all exist."
He gazed at Draco and Roger's retreating figures. "Hopefully that's not too far off."
"Speaking of far off," she said, adjusting her hold on Regina, "we went off subject. You were asking me how long it took to plan my wedding."
"Yes. Do you think we can pull it together in less than three months?"
"If Draco wants something lavish---and I know he does---it will probably be difficult unless you hire someone."
"We have the money for that."
"But it will make the whole affair less personal, I'd say, having someone else plan your wedding."
"We'll discuss it." Harry scrubbed his hands over his face, thinking back to the conversations about the wedding he and Draco had been having recently. "I think he wants a big engagement party, too."
"Good heavens, he's a busy one! And he wants all this before his second trimester?"
There was a voice from the far end of the garden. "Oi, anyone home?"
They looked up to see Neville Longbottom coming through the gate. Hermione waved. He came around a growth of clustered purple flowers, stopping to feel some petals, and then greeted everyone.
"I saw your cars were here, but no one answered the door. So I came back here. Hope that's all right...."
"It's fine. We've been in the garden all morning," said Hermione. She offered him the last bit of water from a pitcher on the table.
While Neville drank, Harry noticed a couple books in his hands.
"What are those?" he asked.
"Just some information I promised to bring David." Along with his drinking glass, Neville set the books on the table; David reached out eagerly.
Hermione read over his shoulder as she absently bounced Regina up and down. "David's wanted to plant some sort of---what was it?---magical squash out here for a while, but it's not as though he knows what to look for.
"I really envy you lot sometimes," said David, absorbed in the book already. "This magic stuff is fascinating."
"Is Draco around?" Neville asked, while the others looked at drawings of unusual fruits and vegetables.
"Er, yeah," said Harry, "but he's at the pond with Roger."
"Oh. I don't remember if I've ever been to Hermione's pond. Is it large?"
"It's pretty small, actually. You wouldn't like it."
"I think I'll have a look, if it's all right with Hermione. Would you like to---?"
Neville didn't finish because Draco had come back with a very wet Roger, both of them panting from their apparent run. Draco wiped his brow as he helped himself to Harry's share of water.
"We raced back," he moaned. "The child is fast."
"Dad!" Roger was saying. "Come with me. You have to come see the fish. Draco was afraid to touch it!"
"In a minute, son. I'm busy," said David.
"No, you have to come now!"
David found himself dragged from his squash books, Hermione smiling after them both. She fanned herself, growing tired and hot with Regina in her lap, and ended up placing the little girl in the cool grass. Regina found a plastic toy train under the table and commenced in smashing it against the leg of Hermione's chair.
"I was not afraid to touch the fish," Draco insisted to Harry and Neville. "When did you get here, Longbottom?"
"A minute ago. How are you?"
"I'm radiant." He perched on the edge of his seat and looked inquisitively at Neville. Harry scooted closer to Draco. "You'll have to tell me all about your apprenticeship. How long have you been under Sprout's thumb?"
"Such a long time."
"Yes. But there's loads to learn about plants. And I have learned loads."
"I'm sure..." said Draco, giving Neville a coy smile.
Harry wondered if now would be a good time to take Neville and show him the pond; instead he cleared his throat, dropping his hand onto Draco's knee, and said, "Didn't you say a couple weeks ago that you were engaged, Neville? Let's hear about that."
Neville flushed. "It's nothing, really."
"Well, I'm eager to learn about your romantic life, Longbottom," said Draco. "Who is it? Male? Female? I hope this person doesn't have warts, because I find warts---"
"I---um---she's very pretty and she knows everything about Herbology."
"Another garden-geek? There are a lot of those floating around." He threw Hermione a look, as if to scold her for the fact that her husband liked such things as well, but she was looking at Harry, who had just readjusted himself so that he was even closer to Draco.
She stood up.
"Draco, look after Regina for me, please."
"All right," he said, and immediately turned back to Neville.
"Harry, I'm going in to get another pitcher of water."
"Right," Harry replied.
"It's a really heavy pitcher."
She put her hands on her hips. "It's a really, really heavy pitcher."
"What? Oh, right."
They left the table and went into the kitchen, where she set about gathering the water as she talked.
"What was that about?"
"I don't know what you mean," said Harry, glancing out the window.
"You were fine when Neville arrived and when Draco came back you started acting oddly." He didn't reply. "You started touching Draco more than usual. You had this bizarre look on your face like you were about to jump up and do something."
"I think you're imagining things. Too much sunlight?"
"In fact, now that I think of it, you often act oddly around Neville."
"Only when Draco is there too."
"What do you mean?" she asked, resting the now full pitcher on the table. She raised her eyebrows at him for a moment before coming to a realization. "Aha. Now I understand."
Harry felt his face heat up. He looked at his shoes, and when he looked back to Hermione she had a triumphant but scolding expression.
"They were flirting!" he claimed.
"It doesn't mean anything. I've seen Draco flirt with Snape, for Merlin's sake."
"You know he dated Neville at Hogwarts, long before---before he and I stopped hating each other. He lost his virginity to Neville! You can't tell me there's nothing between them."
"There's nothing between them but history."
Harry shook his head. He went to the window and peered at Draco, who was laughing and delicately touching Neville's arm. "Oh God, I have to get out there."
"No, I don't think so." Hermione blocked his path. "You'll stay right here until you've stopped being a jealous idiot."
"Do you really think I don't know when you're jealous? Both you and Ron are completely obvious."
"I can't help it. Anyone would want Draco."
Hermione was trying not to laugh at him. "Harry, really---"
"It's true! I like Neville. But whenever they're near one another I get worried, like he's going to try and get close to Draco again."
"If that happened, Draco would turn him away."
"What if he didn't? Draco could have anyone he wanted. He's...he's..."
"Harry," she said gently. She smoothed her hand over his cheekbone as he watched the men in the garden. "You're just...foolish and in love. But Neville doesn't feel that way about Draco. Didn't you hear the way he stammered when you mentioned his engagement? Neville loves someone else."
"That doesn't mean he's stopped loving Draco."
"What's brought this on? The two of you just got over a fight. Are you going to pick a new one?"
"No. I won't say a word to Draco about this."
"Good. If I know Draco, he'd be mad at you if you brought it up. Or he'd mock you, more likely, and you'd be humiliated. Try to trust him. Why don't you go play with Roger at the pond to clear your head?"
"Yeah. Might be a good idea."
Part of Harry was frustrated with how Hermione always welcomed herself into his and Draco's business, and part of him was happy she was always there to be right about things. He took a second to will away the anger that he knew would spring up when he saw Draco and Neville side by side. Hermione took the pitcher off the table and they made toward the garden.
"Doesn't look too heavy to me," said Harry, opening the door for her.
When Roger saw Harry marching down to the pond, his heart leapt. Harry was great fun, especially when he picked Roger up and swung him around like a yo-yo; and he knew everything there was to know about Muggles. Roger really liked Muggles. Sometimes Mum took him into the Muggle town to buy him a toy or to have dinner at a Muggle restaurant, but not often enough.
"Harry!" Roger yelled, waving his net. He got water on his head when he did it.
"Oh no, Roger," said Dad. He had got water on Dad, too.
"Having fun?" Harry asked.
"Yeah! We almost caught it. It keeps coming close and swimming away." Roger pointed to the pond, but through the gloomy water they did not see any fish.
"I'd better go change my shirt," said Dad.
"Are you coming back?" Roger asked.
"No, I'll just sit with your mother. If Harry decides to go back, you go with him, all right?"
Roger saw something wiggly and yellow, and stuck the net into the water, but it was only a plant. He noticed Dad and Harry talking behind him; he didn't listen much because it sounded pretty boring.
"I don't remember being as rowdy he is as a child."
"Most kids are, David."
"Sometimes my mother asked me to play footy with the other boys, but I never liked having balls kicked at my head. I remember sitting in my room with my lizard and homemade mold."
"Sounds like something a husband of Hermione's would be doing."
"Yes, well. I do hope Regina is calmer at his age."
"She'll be a perfect lady, I'm sure."
Roger disagreed. He thought Reggie was a monster. The other day she bit him. But he forgave her because Mum and Dad liked her a lot.
Once Dad had gone, he and Harry looked down into the water. Couldn't see much. It was dark and swirly like the gross soup Mum sometimes fed him.
"What's the fish look like?" Harry asked.
"Like a fish. A big one."
"Maybe it'll come if we say its name."
"Tried that. Me and Draco changed its name. Now the fish is called Potter because Draco said it reminds him of you."
"Hmm." Harry didn't look too pleased. Maybe he was shocked with excitement.
The sun beat down on them and made their hairlines and armpits sweaty. A dragonfly buzzed past, but Roger couldn't catch it in his net. Some birds twittered. He knew Mum liked birds. He wondered if she had heard them.
"You think I'd be a good Dad?"
"Probably. You're really brilliant."
"Why do you want to know that?"
"I just wondered."
"Are you going to have a baby?"
"Harry? Is it true that wizards can have babies right there" ---he touched Harry's stomach--- "like girls can?"
"When Mum had Reggie in her stomach, she let me feel Reggie kick. I was just a kid back then."
"You've grown up a great deal, haven't you?"
"Dad thinks it's weird that wizards can have babies in their stomachs, but he says that it's only 'cause he's not used to it. Dad's from the Muggle world. We have a lot of Muggles in our neighborhood. I have a friend called Billy and he's a Muggle."
"Yes, I might have seen him pouring dirt onto your head once. Look." Harry pointed to the left.
"What do we do?" Roger whispered.
It swam so close that Roger would feel the ripples of the water if he stuck his finger in. Surely if he moved, the fish would hear the mud making squelchy noises under his shoes, so he turned his head to Harry.
"Hand me the net," Harry whispered back.
Roger gave it to him slowly, and then Harry stuck the net into the water, and then---
"Ahhh!" Roger shrieked. "It's splashing me!"
Harry was quicker than the fish twisting about in the air. Water was flicking about at all angles, making them both shout with glee. In a moment, Harry had the fish out of the net and in his big hands, clenching it firmly. His fingers barely wrapped around the whole yellow fish, whose mouth went bloop, bloop, bloop.
"It's big!" said Roger. "We caught a big fish, Harry!"
"Now what'll we do with it?"
"How about we let it go home?"
So they did. They waded out up to their calves, and Roger touched the fish's smooth scales and gently poked it in the eye before Harry placed it in the water.
"My socks are wet," said Roger, when they went back onto the grass. "Mum'll be angry. She just magicked me dry."
"Take them off."
Harry was a very smart man. They each took off their shoes and socks, and Harry cast a spell. He went to a bush and hung their socks on a branch.
"They'll still take a few minutes to dry. But it'll go quicker now," said Harry.
"Will you teach me that spell when I grow up?"
"I bet they'll show it to you at Hogwarts."
"I hope I get to go there. Mum says I'll probably get a letter when I'm ten. But if I'm not a wizard, I want to be a fisherman."
"You can be both a wizard and a fisherman, if you want."
"I'll do that. And then I'll buy lots of hard to read books like Dad, and then I'll read them, and then...I'll get married."
Harry laughed. "Who are you getting married to?"
"My mum, I guess."
Harry continued to laugh. "I don't know about that."
"That's how it's done. You're supposed to be married to a mum, and I don't know a better one than mine."
"It sounds logical enough. But I think you should wait a few years before you propose."
Harry sighed as he laid himself out in the grass. There were some smelly flowers nearby, the kind that Dad liked to play with. Roger sat cross-legged and watched Harry, who had his eyes closed and his hands behind his head.
"Hey, Harry, are you really going to marry Draco someday?"
"Soon, I hope."
"I hope I don't have to wear itchy robes at the wedding."
"I'll tell your mum to make sure they're comfortable ones."
"Okay." He thought hard. "And I think if you have a kid you should name him after the fish."
Harry looked at him. "What," he asked, "you want me to call my kid Potter Potter?"
Roger snickered and fell onto his back. "That would be funny."
Roger curled his toes in the prickly grass. It tickled. He put his foot next to Harry's. He wriggled his big toe, and then Harry wriggled his big toe; he spread his toes apart, and then Harry spread his toes apart. Harry had really huge feet.
"You know, I never had a father of my own," said Harry.
"Oh. I bet he would have been nice."
"I bet so, too."
"Do you want to know a secret?"
"If my dad wasn't my dad, I think I'd want you to be my dad."
Harry smiled at him. "Thanks." They looked at their toenails for a minute. Then Harry said, "Shall I tell you a secret, too?"
"Yes!" No grownups ever told him secrets. They only told him to be quiet or to put his toys away. "Yes, tell me a secret."
"You'll have to promise not to tell anyone."
Harry looked over his shoulder, toward the table where everyone was sitting. They couldn't see it with the bushes in the way, but Roger knew Harry was trying to make sure no one was coming. "You see, Draco tells me that he...that he can't wait to be a father. But I'm not so sure I'd be a very good one."
"But you're a brilliant at being a dad, Harry. You're funny and you play with me and everything."
"Well, there are other things to being a father than playing." Roger didn't know what those things were at the moment, so he let Harry keep talking. "Like I said, I never had a father myself...so I wouldn't know what to do."
"Oh. Did you have a mum?"
"A little sister?"
"No. I had an aunt and uncle, though."
"What were they like?"
Harry paused. "Fine."
"Well, if they were fine then you know how to be a good dad, Harry. But even if you didn't have an aunt and uncle you'd be a good dad, because you're really cool."
Harry sat up and looked out at the pond. He took off his glasses, cleaned them on his shirt, and put them back on. "Ready to go back?" he asked.
"Yes. I want to tell everyone about the Potter the Fish."
They put on their shoes and socks and were off. The sun seemed a lot brighter than before. He guessed it was because they had been in the shade.
"Hey, Roger?" Harry asked as they walked.
"Thanks for the talk."
Roger filled with pride.
"How superficial can a person get?" Hermione asked. "The first thing you do when you decide to get married is pick out your robes?"
Draco stuck his chin forward as they wound their way through Diagon Alley. People were everywhere and he wanted to get to Madam Malkin's as soon as possible; he had no idea how long it would take to choose the appropriate outfit.
"What else could there possibly be to do?" he replied.
"You could plan where to have it, who to invite, what food to serve, what music---"
"I'll figure that out as soon as I do the important stuff. There's an engagement party to plan, too."
"Harry told me about that," she scoffed. "You're going to have a busy schedule for the next couple months."
"It'll be exciting. An adventure."
"I suppose Harry's left you to do the planning for the engagement party as well?"
"Harry, my dear Hermione, is helping me plenty. He did inform me that he didn't want the party to be a formal event. I wanted to use the ballroom at my old mansion, but I suppose we'll make due just having the wedding itself there. Ah, we're here!"
A few students with an early start on the school year were being measured in the shop. Madam Malkin, who was tending to one of them, with pins between her lips, indicated that they could wait next to the counter if they wanted. It was stuffy in the shop with all these materials, and he hoped to find what he wanted quickly and go home. He hoped Harry would be waiting for him and they could continue wedding planning.
"Ginny!" Hermione called.
A tall girl with a nouveau hair style and wild makeup turned to see them, and squealed, "Hello, hello! How long has it been?"
"Too long," said Hermione, examining the name tag on Ginny's shirt. "Since when do you work here?"
"I got the job about a month ago. I'm so pleased. You meet the most interesting people working in a shop, and they have such stories."
"Ron was at my house recently. He didn't mention you had a new job."
"Well, Ron's an imbecile. He doesn't pay attention to things. Who's your friend?"
Draco straightened up a little at the acknowledgment, and Hermione continued before he could speak:
"You know Draco Malfoy, don't you?"
"Draco Mal---oh, oh!" She hurried over to say hello. "So it was you I saw here last week. You were being so polite I hardly recognized you."
"I only met you one time after Hogwarts, when you first started dating Harry, but you weren't yet, really, um---"
"Nice?" Draco smiled as she became flustered. "I think I was in the process of getting used to Harry's friends."
"I see. I had no idea you and Hermione were close."
"Oh, yes, we're the best of friends," Hermione said lightly, running her fingers over a stretch of pink fabric.
"She was with me when I was here the other week," Draco added.
"I must have missed her, then," said Ginny.
"I didn't realize it was you either. Not with all the...." He gestured to the odd pins sticking out of her red hair, which made it resemble fire.
She put her hand to her head. "Do you like it? It's the newest thing. I've been getting into fashion since I met a lady who's a model. She's so nice---"
"Miss Weasley!" shouted Madam Malkin from across the room. "I'm getting very busy, dear. Can you help the next customers?"
"All right!" She looked at them both. "Shall I measure you? What do you need?"
"Robes. Extremely fine robes," said Draco.
"And for Hermione?"
"Nothing for me," said Hermione. "I'm here for---ah---support."
Ginny whisked Draco away, and while the magical tape measurer was going she continued to talk. "You and Harry have been together a long time, haven't you? How are the two of you?"
"That's why I'm here."
"How exciting," she said. The tape measurer had finished its job, and she was busy jotting down something or another. "Will Harry be coming in to find wedding robes, too?"
"Not today. He'll do it on his own eventually. Oh, and I'm going to need robes for the engagement party, too."
"An engagement party. It sounds fun. I've never been to one of those."
"I'm sure you'll be there. Harry will invite all his friends. Plus, Dean Thomas will need an escort."
Ginny led him to a less crowded end of the room, away from the students and the mothers with whining children, to reveal a concealed assortment of fabrics, all of which were lush, soft, or exotic. One kind, which she didn't recommend, was stretched out on the wall ("Once you get wrinkles in this stuff," she clarified, "they never, never come out."); another had such complex patterns that it seemed to be a knot of tangled thread; and another kind felt so fragile that it was hardly there.
"What sort of material is this?" Draco asked, after running his fingers over a sheet of bright white material.
"It's called luminance. Mostly used for socks and gloves, because it's so expensive. I think a Muggle singer used to be fond of it---Michael Jacobson---something like that."
"I want it. But not right now. What's that up there?"
"Magically enhanced wool. You'll never itch when you wear it, and it's always warm."
"Ooh, I'll have to have something made for Harry---"
"You're getting off track, Malfoy," Hermione said behind him.
"It's always 'Malfoy' when they're angry with me," he said to Ginny, and she giggled.
"I'm not angry," said Hermione, "but I think you should get a move on."
"Fine, fine, fine."
They set about finding the perfect fabric for his wedding robes. After going through ten or eleven that were absolutely hideous, Ginny threw her hands into the air and said, "How about this? No one's ever bought it," and from an old box, which she took from a locked cupboard, she removed the some of the most handsome material he'd ever seen.
"I've never come across it," said Draco. "No one's ever bought it?"
"Not since I've been here, at least." Ginny placed it into his hands. "The finest material from Arabia. It's illegal to make these days. There's only so much left in the world to be sold."
"Do you know why?"
"Supposedly, it was produced in reams for an ancient king. He wasn't a wizard himself, so he had all the known wizards in his kingdom practically drain themselves of their magic making it for him."
"Why, that Muggle bastard," he said breathlessly.
"And here's the best part!" The three of them leaned in, feeling very sneaky. "It's rumored to be enchanted so that when you're wearing an outfit made of it---the person you love most won't be able to keep his or her eyes off you!"
He grinned at her and immediately asked, "How much?"
Ginny told them it would take a couple weeks to make his robes, the material being so unusual to work with, and he could pick them up or have them delivered through owl post. He chose a more conservative material for his engagement party robes, and went to Hermione's house for lunch and more wedding plans.
He arrived home in an especially good mood that evening. Harry was at the kitchen table, bent over some boring paperwork from Saint Morbus when Draco put his arm across his shoulders said, "Hello."
"How was your day?" Harry asked without paying attention.
"I accomplished a lot."
"Good." He pushed his glasses up his nose.
"We figured out where to have the engagement party."
"Neville mentioned this place, where he met his fiancée---at a gardening convention or whatever---and he said the building was used for all sorts of things and very comfortable."
"Neville?" Harry looked up. "What were you doing with Neville?"
"He stopped by Hermione's to pick up the books he let David borrow."
"How long did he stay?"
"I don't know. An hour. What does it matter?"
"Nothing." He went back to his paperwork, but Draco took his chin.
"I'm trying to tell you about our plans." Harry spread his hands in welcome, and Draco sat on the edge of the table and looked down his nose at him. "Well, we thought we should have the party a month from now. Not too short notice to get out invitations, but not too close to the wedding."
"Which will be in...?"
"September. At the end of September. And the party will be the last Saturday of August."
"Hmm." Harry looked troubled.
"I scheduled an appointment for your pregnancy test. The only day the mediwizard was free was the last Saturday of August."
"What, there's not more than one doctor?"
"It's not such a large field. There are only so many pregnant men in the world, you know."
"Harry," he said slowly, resting his fingers across Harry's knuckles, "that's the only day the place I want to have the party at has an opening."
"You'll have to find a new place."
"But Neville showed us pictures of it, and it was beautiful."
Harry took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes deeply. "Draco..."
"Anyway," said Draco, "we already know I'm pregnant. There's no need for an appointment."
"We don't know that," Harry said tightly.
"There's no need to get frustrated."
"Draco," he snapped. "I need to know as soon as possible. It's driving me mad. I have to know for a fact that you're pregnant."
"Do you want to cancel the engagement party?"
"No," said Harry, running a hand over his face and slipping his glasses back on. "We can make room for both. The appointment's in the afternoon, and we can have the party in the evening. It'll be fine."
Draco sighed, drumming his fingers on his knees. There was more and more to do and so little time in which to do it! He slid off the table and put his hands into Harry's hair, pulling him close. Harry exhaled slowly. He put his arms around Draco's middle and his head on Draco's stomach.