Expectant || Drarry

14

It's almost over 😢😢

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Harry comes home from training late Halloween evening to find Malfoy with his nose pressed against the living room window.

"Potter, Muggles have the most atrocious sense of fashion," he declares tightly, looking out into the street.

"Those kids are in costume," Harry informs him, peering over his shoulder to see a small group of children run up to the house directly opposite 12 Grimmauld Place. "You never went trick-or-treating on Halloween as a kid?"

"No, it's a stupid Muggle tradition," Malfoy sneers. "I had all the candy I could ever ask for. I didn't need to go beg for it."

"It's fun," Harry says, smacking his arse lightly as he moves away, Malfoy yelping softly. "Or so I've heard."

"Did those foul Muggles you lived with never take you out to beg for chocolate?" Malfoy asks with that same murderous look he gets in his eyes every time they talk of the Dursleys ever since Harry told him about them.

"No, but Dudley usually let me have any fruit-flavored candy he got." Harry grins. "He hated them. I had my fun, Malfoy, don't worry."

Malfoy instantly looks aloof. "I'm not worried." He turns away stiffly to resume staring out the window, absently rubbing his stomach with one hand as he watches a kid dressed as an astronaut screech as he fights over a large slab of chocolate with another little girl dressed as a witch. "Why do Muggles think that witches are green-skinned?" he demands flatly, glancing around and frowning at Harry who's sitting and pulling his boots and socks off. "That's the third little girl I've seen in a simply dreadful emulation of wizarding robes. Ugh, and her hat is plastic. But why is she green?"

Harry grins, tugging his sweaty, mud-stained t-shirt off and mopping his face with it. "I think it's just a general consensus among them that witches have wrinkly, green skin and are fatally averse to water."

Malfoy looks flabbergasted. "How do they think we clean ourselves?"

"I dunno," Harry says laughingly, standing up and coming over once more, "magic?" He kisses Malfoy gently, pressing his hand over the curve of his now enormous bump.

"Do you plan on incorporating this shameful Muggle tradition with this one?" Malfoy asks, briefly closing his hand around Harry's on his stomach and narrowing his eyes.

"I'm not very fond of this holiday, Malfoy." Harry hesitates before going on. "My parents were killed Halloween night, so..." Malfoy pales so fast that Harry instantly regrets bringing it up.

"I—I forgot," Malfoy says, voice hushed and eyes very wide, his face a stark white. "I'm sorry, Potter, I meant no disrespe—"

"Don't be stupid," Harry says at once, kissing him once more. "And even if I don't take him trick-or-treating, you can, right?" he asks, grinning wickedly and tickling the sides of his stomach.

Malfoy's mouth thins and he sniffs. "I won't be indulging it such pointless frivolities, Potter," he says loftily. "And stop calling it a 'he'."

"Well, you wouldn't let me ask Hermione about the gender," Harry says sullenly. "It's really rude calling the baby 'it'."

"So why not call it a 'she'?" he snaps before huffing and throwing himself carelessly onto the sofa, giving Harry a mild aneurysm. "The rate I'm growing, you likely won't have to wait very much longer," he mutters darkly, glaring down at his stomach where it's protruding threateningly, practically a separate entity by itself. "I'm done housing it, Potter. I want this to be over."