The Boy Who Bitched

Chapter 24

One crimson red and one emerald green eye looked up at him. Harry gasped at the vibrant colors. He had heterochromia and he was beautiful and so so perfect. Hadrian was born with so much brown hair, and it was messy and uncontrollable just like Harry's. Tom was sitting right beside Harry, playing with Hadrian's perfect little fingers. Tom's entire demeanor changed when he saw Hadrian, any of the remaining hardness in him seemed to have completely melted away.

Harry offered the baby to Tom, only because Colette was waiting expectingly, he still had to pass the afterbirth and make sure he was all good down there. The naked child fit perfectly in Tom's arms, who walked out of the room followed by Molly presumably to help dress him. Passing the afterbirth was uncomfortable, and Harry's body was so tender. He hadn't ripped though, and Colette babbled on about how he handled the birth like a champ. Mini contractions still pulsated through Harry's body, however they were much more manageable than what he had just done.

Tom came back without the baby, however he did have a large glass of water in hand, Harry took it eagerly as he was parched. Molly came in a few minutes later holding Hadrian in a beautifully knitted baby blue blanket. She handed the baby back to Harry, the babe's mouth was making suckling shapes, Harry's face grew pale. "I'm sorry but could you two excuse us for a moment," he asked the two women.

"Oh of course dear," Molly said quickly making her way out of the room.

"I will be back tomorrow to check up on the both of you, if anything happens please contact me immediately," Harry nodded only half listening most of his attention was focused on the pure life form that looked up at him with those curious eyes.

Tom sat beside Harry on the bed, an arm wrapped around the boy's shoulder. "I am so proud of you Harry," he said placing a kiss on the boy's cheek.

Harry smiled before he nervously guided Hadrian to his swollen breast, he hissed in discomfort as the boy greedily started suckling. Eventually Harry relaxed, and rested his head on Tom's shoulder and closed his eyes. "I can't wait to sleep on my stomach again," Harry said his voice was a sort of tired bliss, he was high from the post birth hormones. Tom squeezed the boys shoulder lovingly, embracing him further.

"In just a few short weeks my beautiful boy," he kissed his forehead, lingering slightly longer than necessary.

Hadrian was by no means an easy baby. He required constant attention and the minute anyone put him down his wail would fill the halls, and that just would not do. Every cry made a part of Harry's chest hurt so painfully he couldn't stand it, so Hadrian was simply never put down. If they didn't have Molly and the house elves the couple would have likely been at each other's throats. They were on a rotation, Harry and Tom during the day, Molly and the house elves at night, and Harry was always on call for feeding time. Though the boy didn't mind, he would sleepily hold the baby to his breast while he sat on the amazingly soft chair in the nursery. He would then cast a silencing charm around the two and would stroke the greedy baby's cheek and stare at his face, determined to memorize every feature. Then he would tell stories, of his childhood, of the horrors of Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley Dursley, how the wizarding world had placed this massive expectation on his shoulder, of how he failed, and how that was the best thing that had ever happened. He allowed himself to relish in nostalgia, to talk about Hermione and Ron, Remus and Sirius. Every night was a different story and Hadrian was always so eager to listen, his rare eyes watching Harry so intently. It was like a form of therapy for the young parent, getting all of these things off of his chest, Hadrian being his secret keeper, his own personal diary. He would talk until the small babe fell back asleep, and then when he was certain he had taken in every inch of his sweet baby's face he would drop the charms and give the boy to the house elf that always stayed waiting by the door. He would then crawl back into bed with Tom who would hungrily hold him tight, where there would be no space left between the two, life was good.