It was half eleven when Harry, who had gone to bed early, reappeared in the sitting room.
Draco looked up from the thick alchemy textbook he was working through for his studies. Harry might be hungry again and in need of a midnight snack; the Auror training drills seemed to do that to him. But then Harry passed straight through the room, apparently unhappy with whatever was left in the kitchen, and headed for the front door.
“Ah,” Draco said, setting his bookmark between the pages and closing his book. “And why would that be?”
“Nuggies,” Harry replied, sticking his dishevelled head back into the sitting room.
Harry did not answer. Instead, he first gasped, then threw Draco his jacket.
Draco was not comfortable on the plastic chair of this… establishment, which seemed to establish noise, grease, and salt in equal parts.
Across the table, Harry was lamenting that his fried, pressed chicken nuggets smelled gross, but he kept eating them anyway, cringing and groaning, dipping them into various tiny sauce packets in an attempt to find the one that caused the least revolt in his stomach.
“Harry,” Draco tried again, “would you be inclined to tell me what is up with you?”
“You almost got that right,” Harry mumbled around a mouthful of nugget.
“Elaborate,” Draco demanded with a roll of his hand, then caved to his morbid curiosity and took a nibble out of what Mr McDonald claimed to be meat.
“Something isn’t up with me. Just up me. Or someone, rather.”
“Darling,” Draco sighed, taken aback by the texture of the food, yet courageously taking a more deliberate bite, “try again.”
Draco put the nugget back onto Harry’s side of the food tray.
“With a picky eater, too,” Harry said casually, as though this were perfectly normal and not another little miracle. “Must be, because it’s yours.”
“Picky for this?” Draco asked, feeling himself begin to tremble—Harry was pregnant!—and stared down at the cardboard boxes Harry was eating out of.
“Perfect balance between the two of us, love.”
“Please do not misinterpret my question. I love you, and I am thrilled, but…” Draco’s brow furrowed, and Harry continued contently eating. They were having a baby! “How are you so calm?”
“Already died once,” Harry said with a shrug, his feet bracketing Draco’s under the table. “It’s only fair that I get to give birth once, too.”
“Perfect balance,” Draco squeaked.
— written for the @drarrymicrofic prompt "incline"
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