A Mistake - Draco Malfoy x Reader
Request: May I get a fic where the reader is pregnant but draco doesn’t want it? and they end up fighting a lot and he’s pushing her to just get an abortion because they are still at Hogwarts but they are just arguing and angst. - Anon
Warnings: Teenage-ish pregnancy (I imagine later teens like 18-19 for the sake of the story), Toxic relationship dynamics, emotional conflict, pregnancy, mention of abortion, sexual innuendo's you know the drill :p
This was a long one
“Would you mind passing me that?”
You turned your head toward Blaise, following his gaze to where his robe lay across the back of his chair. You smiled lightly, reaching across the table to grab it and hand it to him. The briefest of moments, your fingers brushed against his hand as you passed it over. It was innocent, unintentional, but that didn’t stop the sudden heat rising in your chest.
You pulled your hand away too quickly, feeling Draco’s sharp gaze sear into you. You didn’t need to look up to know he wasn’t happy. That familiar tightness in your chest, the warning that came with his silence, was enough. His jealousy was a constant companion, one that you’d grown accustomed to, but that didn’t mean it didn’t still make you feel small sometimes.
"Would you like to pass anything to Crabbe or Goyle as well?" Draco’s voice was low, a taunt just for you.
You felt his eyes on you, cold, accusatory. You fought the urge to roll your eyes but couldn’t suppress the slight huff of breath that escaped your nose.
He was being ridiculous.
Ignoring his jab, you let your hand rest lightly on his thigh. The warmth of his skin, the pressure of your touch, a silent apology for the momentary slip-up with Blaise. Your thumb moved in slow, soothing circles, hoping to ease the tension between you.
But Draco wasn’t having it. Without a word, he swatted your hand off his thigh, turning his body slightly away from you as if you were the last person he wanted to be near.
Your chest tightened. This wasn’t the first time it had happened, his pride, his need to maintain control, his constant need to stake his claim, it was always the same.
You let out a soft sigh, picking up your fork and poking at the food on your plate without really having an appetite.
"Draco," you said, your voice softer now, though frustration was seeping in.
He didn’t respond. His eyes remained fixed ahead, his jaw tight as he shoved another forkful of food into his mouth. The tension was thick, like a storm cloud about to burst.
You glanced back at Blaise for a moment, and his eyes met yours; genuine, apologetic. He didn’t want to make things worse, but that didn’t stop you from feeling the need to explain, even though you knew it wasn’t Blaise’s fault.
Sighing, you tried again. This time, you reached out, your hand lightly brushing the side of Draco’s arm. Maybe this time, it would be different. Maybe this time, he’d listen.
But Draco was having none of it. With an almost violent shake of his head, he shoved your hand off of him, this time turning to face you fully. His voice was sharp, cutting through the noise of the bustling Great Hall.
“Bug off, Y/N.”
The words stung, far more than they should have. And it wasn’t just the words, it was the look in his eyes. The way he dismissed you as though you were nothing more than an inconvenience.
The table fell quiet. The people around you glanced back and forth, unsure if they should react or pretend they hadn’t heard. But you could feel the weight of their stares on you, making your cheeks burn with embarrassment.
You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying not to let the tears that were threatening to well up show on your face.
The worst part? Draco didn’t even seem to care. He went back to his food, ignoring you completely.
Fighting back the sudden surge of anger and frustration, you roughly stood up.
“Fine,” you said, voice trembling slightly but trying to stay composed. “I’ll leave you to your lunch.”
Without waiting for any kind of response, you stood up from the table, the loud clatter of your plate sharp in the silent room. You walked away, not looking back, though you could feel the weight of Draco’s gaze on your back.
As you made your way out of the hall, you could still hear the hushed whispers from the others, the mutterings of students too afraid to get involved but too curious not to watch.
But none of it mattered now.
You were furious with Draco, fuming, to be honest. Yet, at the same time, you knew you’d have to face him later. Because even though he was pushing you away now, he always seemed to pull you back in when the dust settled.
He’d come after you eventually. He always did.
You didn’t even bother heading to your dorm. Instead, you went to the library to give yourself space, hoping that the silence would help clear your head. You were angry. Angry at his need to control, angry at his jealousy, angry that he couldn’t just trust you. But as you sat there, in the quiet library, you also knew something else.
This was nothing new. You had been through this before, and you’d get through it again. Draco would move on.
And so would you.
A few hours later, you reluctantly found your way to Draco’s dorm. The day had gone on long enough, and the tension was only growing between you two. You stepped into his room, the familiar warmth and scent of him instantly surrounding you. Draco looked up from where he was lounging on his bed, a casual smirk tugging at his lips.
“Look who finally decided to join me,” he said, voice smooth, like nothing had happened earlier.
You didn’t respond immediately. Instead, you began changing into something more comfortable, trying to shake off the day. As you unbuttoned your blouse and pulled it over your head, Draco watched you from his spot on the bed, his eyes darkening as they followed the curve of your figure. You could feel his gaze like a heavy weight on your skin.
When you were left in your undershirt, you grabbed one of Draco’s oversized shirts from his dresser and pulled it on, the fabric falling over your frame. His scent lingered on it, familiar, comforting, and for a second, it soothed some of the tension in your chest.
You were about to make your way to the bed when Draco’s arms suddenly snaked around your waist from behind. You flinched slightly, surprised by the suddenness, and felt him rest his chin in the crook of your neck, pulling you closer against his chest.
“Where’re you going, m'love?” he mumbled into your ear, his voice soft, his lips grazing your skin as he spoke.
You shivered involuntarily, the warmth of his embrace tugging at something deep inside you. But you weren’t ready to forgive him just yet.
“To bed,” you replied coolly, pulling away slightly, but he tightened his hold.
He chuckled softly, his hands drifting to your stomach as he turned you back around to face him. His gaze softened, but you could tell the annoyance was gone from earlier. He was trying to get back to his usual snuggly self, but you weren’t in the mood to let it slide so easily.
He pressed his lips just below your ear, leaving peppering kisses. You closed your eyes in temporary bliss.
"Are you still upset?" Draco asked, his voice low, an almost playful tone to it now, lightly nipping at your skin.
You sighed, pulling back again. You attempted to escape his grip but Draco wasn’t having it. He pulled you back against him with surprising force, his hands sliding around your waist and pulling you to him again, this time burying his face in your hair.
"C'mon," he purred.
You let out a frustrated groan, but in the end, you didn’t resist. You could feel the tension in your chest start to unwind the more he held you. He knew how to do this, how to pull you back into his orbit, even when you were upset.
"This isn't fair, Draco," you huffed, still standing with him.
Draco looked down at you, his expression softening. “Is this about earlier?”
You sighed, feeling the frustration bubbling up again. “I don’t feel like getting into it right now. I just want to sleep. I’m exhausted.”
He scoffed, suddenly, his voice sharp. “Getting into what? I didn’t do anything. You’re the one who wanted to-”
You cut him off, eyes flashing with irritation. “Stop right there, Draco. I don’t want to argue, but I will not stand here and be accused of flirting with Blaise when I didn’t! I have no interest in any other man, other than you- my boyfriend, whom I love very much! And frankly, I find it really hurtful that you would accuse me of that, especially knowing how I feel about us!”
Your words came out in a rush. Your chest was tight with emotion, and you didn’t care to hold it back anymore.
The worst part? Draco wasn’t even angry. In fact, he wore a smug little smirk that was only making you more upset.
"What’s with that look, huh?" you snapped, frowning.
Draco leaned in closer, his breath brushing over your face as he hovered just above you, his silver eyes sparkling with amusement. Your faces were inches apart, as you could feel his slowed breathing.
“Have I ever told you how ravishing you are when you’re angry?” he said, his voice low and teasing.
You let out a groan, rolling your eyes, and looked away, crossing your arms over your chest. "Draco. I-"
"The way you speak with such passion, my, it's almost as if you can't control yourself," he spoke lowly, grabbing onto your wrists with one hand, uncrossing them, and pinning them above you as he got even closer to your face, and laying his other hand on your waistband. Your lips were just barely touch. You could feel your body warming up, almost squirming from the tension building. Your chest, heaving, up and down.
Draco always knew his way with you, and you hated how much control he had over your body like this.
Fuck it.
You leaned forward, attempting to press your lips onto his, but he pulled back, smirking. His silver eyes bore into yours.
“But you're right, let’s get some rest,” he said softly, his voice now more tender, like he wasn't just preying over you a second ago. He gently let go and took one of your hands in his, guiding you toward the bed.
You allowed him to guide you, the warmth of his body only making you feel more frustrated. As you reached the bed, Draco helped you sit, his presence towering over you. His warmth radiated from behind as he settled down beside you, pulling you close.
"This isn’t fair," you muttered again, still holding onto some of your frustration.
Draco’s breath was warm against your neck as he nudged you closer, his lips brushing against your skin. “I know,” he whispered. “Can we just rest now?”
You turned your head slightly, still feeling the remnants of your anger but finding it harder to hold on. “I’m not ready to forgive you,” you said, your voice quieter now.
Draco lifted himself onto his elbow, his silver eyes reflecting a hint of amusement. “Fair enough,” he said softly. “But you always do.”
You rolled your eyes but didn’t fight him anymore. The fight seemed futile now, especially when he looked at you like that. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, but the words felt weak.
"Let me make it up to you," he hummed, leaning down and finally pressing his lips onto yours, in a slow passionate kiss. Giving in, your hands slowly slid up his arms, and into his velvet-platinum soft hair.
He pulled away for a brief second raising his eyebrows awaiting a response
“Alright, alright, you win,” you muttered, closing your eyes as you leaned into him.
Draco grinned, satisfied, as he finally released a deep breath of contentment. “Good.”
~*~
It was safe to say that after that night, things between you and Draco were patched up. As expected, he never actually apologized- because that just wasn’t something he did. But he made up for it in the only ways he knew how throughout the weeks: kisses pressed to your forehead, lingering touches, little gestures that wordlessly told you I’m sorry and I love you. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough.
Every now and then, the two of you would bicker over the most ridiculous things. Most of it stemmed from Draco’s jealousy or the mounting pressure of the responsibilities looming over him. He wasn’t the best at managing his time or emotions, and whenever he found himself overwhelmed, you became the target of his misplaced frustration. It was a cycle, tense moments, angry words, quiet makeups, but it was one you’d grown used to navigating.
A few months passed, and something started to feel… off.
At first, it was subtle. Your breasts felt more tender, fuller, something Draco definitely didn’t complain about. Then your hips seemed to fill out more, your curves more pronounced. You were sleeping more, too, falling into naps in the middle of the day despite not usually feeling tired. And the hunger? It hit you like a wave. You’d never had much of an appetite, but now you found yourself craving the strangest things at the oddest hours.
Still, you brushed it off, until the morning sickness began.
It started gradually, but soon became relentless. The nausea would slam into you the moment you opened your eyes, sending you bolting out of bed and to the nearest bathroom. Every morning felt like Deja Vu; cold tiles, clammy skin, and the bitter taste of bile in your mouth.
Draco barely noticed. He was preoccupied, absorbed in his own world. He cracked a half-hearted joke once, threatening to curse you if you got him sick, but otherwise, his attention was elsewhere. He told you to let him know if you needed anything, but that he’d be busy.
The final straw came in the middle of class.
Without warning, a wave of nausea hit you like a freight train. You barely managed to excuse yourself before sprinting to the nearest bathroom. Hunched over the toilet, you stared numbly at the swirling contents inside before slowly lowering the lid and sitting down. Your body felt hollow, exhausted, and something deeper, fear, maybe curled in your chest.
You reached into your bag and pulled out a small box you’d bought on a whim earlier that week. A pregnancy test. At the time, it felt ridiculous, dramatic even. But now?
“There’s no way…” you whispered to yourself.
This wasn’t to confirm anything. This was just to rule it out. To silence the part of your brain that wouldn’t stop whispering what if.
You shook your head, forcing yourself to stand. You unwrapped the test with trembling fingers, took a deep breath, and did what needed to be done.
After replacing the cap, you walked out to the sinks, setting the stick face-down on the sink and turned on the tap. You washed your hands, splashing cold water on your face in hopes it might calm the nerves rising in your chest.
Looking up, the mirror offered no comfort.
Your cheeks were flushed, but your eyes, dark and hollowed from sleepless nights. The possibility had kept you awake more nights than you could count. The not-knowing. The maybe.
Minutes passed like hours.
Your hand hovered over the test before you finally grabbed it, fingers trembling. You stood still, breath caught in your throat.
And then, slowly, you turned it over.
Your heart sunk to your stomach. You couldn't believe what you were seeing right now. It felt like your body went numb and you could no longer feel your limbs.
The test slipped out of your hands and fell to the floor. The prominent plus sign was burning into the back of your eyes as it fell facing upwards.
You knew this would happen one day, but you didn't think so soon. You looked down at your stomach, placing your hand, lightly rubbing back and forth. You weren't showing yet, by any means, but you didn't know what to think. A few tears start to fall from your wide eyes. You’re still in shock, but also terrified.
A baby. Not just yours, but also Draco's. A part of you was ecstatic, but the other half of you was worried for what Draco might think. You've been having such a rough patch with him lately, you don't think things are going to end well.
What were you going to do if Draco ends up being really upset.. but what if he's not?
The door slammed behind you, making you jump alerted. You quickly dove down to pick up the pregnancy test and hid it up your sleeve.
"Oh hey, Y/N."
You wiped away your tears trying to ignore your fast beating heart, turning to face them.
"Hey, Pansy. Sorry, I was just-"
"Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost," she spoke, cutting you off.
Your mouth opened, but no words came out. There were a billion things you could say but also none at all. Despite Pansy's past with Draco, you were some-what close with her. Close enough to be able to call her a friend.
Before she could get another word out, you're in her arms- trembling, breathless, barely holding it together.
She stiffened at first, confused by your sudden collapse, but quickly wraps her arms around you, holding you steady.
“Hey, hey… what happened?” she asked gently, her hand instinctively gliding up and down your spine in a slow, comforting rhythm.
You don’t answer. You can’t. You lean against the sink behind you. Pansy watches you carefully, her concern deepening by the second.
"Y/N, you're scaring me. Do you want me to get Draco-"
"-No! I mean, not yet. I..." you rushed, before sniffing and taking a deep breathe. You reach into your sleeve and pull out the test.
The color drains slightly from her face as she realizes what it is you're holding. Her eyes widened, before she rushed forward to get a better look at you. Her eyes, scanned you up and down, almost as if she was looking for something.
She grabs the pregnancy test carefully, staring at the result for a long moment before whispering, “It’s positive…”
"I... I'm pregnant, P-Pansy," you choked, biting onto your lip in attempt to stop the tears from falling down your cheeks.
Her expression softens immediately. “Oh, Y/N…” she murmured, moving closer and pulling you into another hug. You collapsed into her again, tears soaking into her shirt. She holds you without hesitation.
After a pause, she speaks cautiously. “You don’t have to go through with it, if it’s not what you want. We’ll figure something out, okay?”
You pull back, startled. That’s not it. That’s not even close.
“I do want the baby,” you say through a fresh wave of tears. “It’s not that.”
Pansy blinks, confused. “Then…?”
You exhale shakily. “It’s Draco,” you admit, voice barely audible. “I’m scared of how he’ll react.”
Now it clicks. Pansy stood back, understanding dawning in her expression.
“He’s got so much on his plate right now,” you continue, words tumbling out. “The Quidditch Tournament, his family's banquet coming up soon, all of his exams, the attention… What if this is too much? What if I ruin everything for him? We have also been fighting a lot lately, I cannot imagine how he'd take this kind of news.”
Pansy takes your hand in both of hers and looks you dead in the eye. “Y/N. Draco adores you. You don’t see the way he looks at you, but everyone else does. The man’s gone. And yeah, his life’s a whirlwind right now, but you’re part of it. You matter to him.”
You try to argue, but she holds up a hand to stop you.
“And sure, maybe this wasn’t planned. But that doesn’t mean it’s wrong. He’s always talked about wanting kids eventually, hasn’t he? So what if it’s sooner than expected?”
You wipe your face, your breathing starting to steady.
Pansy gives your hand one last squeeze. “Whatever happens, you won’t go through this alone. But I really believe he’ll be happy. Maybe shocked, but happy.”
You hesitate, then lean into her again, this time out of gratitude, not desperation. A faint smile tugs at the corner of your mouth.
“Thanks,” you whisper.
“It’s going to be alright,” she says again, and this time, you finally start to believe her.
~*~
You’ve been avoiding him for two days.
Not because you’re afraid of confrontation, hell, with Draco, arguments were practically part of the routine, but this was different.
This wasn’t about him staying out too late or snapping at you in front of the others. This wasn’t about some stupid, whispered rumor Daphne Greengrass threw your way to see if she could get under your skin. This was real.
This was irreversible.
Today was the day you would have to bring the news to Draco. You knew you couldn't prolong it for too long.
The Slytherin common room is quiet by early evening, steeped in its usual shadows and cold green hues. The lake outside presses against the tall windows, casting shifting reflections on the floor- dark and murky like thoughts you’ve been trying not to have.
It smells faintly of damp stone and old parchment, and the air is chilled, even with the fire crackling low in the hearth. It’s always colder down here, in more ways than one.
Draco sits near the back corner, books and parchment spread out on the table before him, quill in hand, ink drying on his fingers. His hair falls slightly into his eyes as he bends over his work, sleeves rolled to the elbows of his pressed white shirt. He looks like he hasn’t slept much- tired, focused, wound too tight.
He hasn’t noticed you standing there yet.
You hover near the edge of the room, heart pounding hard against your ribs. You could walk away right now. Wait another hour. Another day. Pretend the ache in your stomach is anything but fear.
But you don’t.
You step forward slowly, cautiously, like approaching something you’re not sure won’t bite.
“Draco?” your voice is quiet, unsure.
He doesn’t look up right away. “What?”
You hesitate. “Can we talk?”
He sighs through his nose, frustrated. Not at you, not yet, but at whatever notes he’s scribbling.
“I’m busy,” he mutters. “Can’t it wait?”
You shift your weight from one foot to the other. “No. I mean… not really.”
His hand pauses, quill hanging mid-air. His eyes finally lift, and he turns his head toward you, only slightly. “What is it?” His tone isn’t cruel, just clipped, the kind of tone you’ve learned means he’s already thinking about something else.
“I just, I need to tell you something,” you say, trying to keep your voice even. “It’s… kind of important.”
He sets the quill down, leans back in his chair, arms folding across his chest. His expression is unreadable, guarded.
“Alright,” he says. “Talk.”
But you don’t. Not yet.
You open your mouth, close it again.
The silence stretches.
Draco’s brow furrows. “Are you alright?”
You nod, too quickly. “Yeah. I mean- no. I don’t know.”
He exhales sharply, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes now. “If this is about the thing with Daphne earlier, I already told you I wasn’t flirting. She’s just-”
“It’s not about Daphne,” you interrupt, voice trembling. “It’s not about that.”
“Then what?” he asks, more impatiently now.
Your throat tightens. Your fingers twist in the hem of your sleeves. For a moment, you consider lying, making something up, anything to avoid this.
But you can’t.
Your voice comes out as a whisper, barely above breath, “I’m pregnant.”
Everything stops.
The scratching of quills from across the room fades, the crackling fireplace seems to disappear. Draco doesn’t move. He just stares at you.
You swallow hard. “I- I found out two days ago. I took a test, and it was positive.”
Still, no reaction.
He blinks slowly, like the words haven’t fully sunk in. Then his jaw tightens, eyes narrowing just slightly.
“You’re not serious.”
“I am.”
He stands abruptly, the chair scraping back across the stone floor. His hand flies through his hair, pushing it back in frustration as he starts pacing.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “No. This-this can’t be happening.”
You watch him silently. Your chest feels hollow.
“Draco-”
“Do you even know what this means?” he cuts in sharply, turning to face you. “You realize we’re still in school? You know what's happening outside these walls. How the hell are we supposed to-”
“I know it’s a mess,” you interrupt. “Do you think I haven’t been panicking about this for the past forty-eight hours? I didn’t plan for this either-”
“Then why are you telling me like you want to keep it?” His voice is sharp now, cutting. “You can’t seriously think that’s a good idea.”
You flinch. “I don’t know what I want yet. But it’s not just something I can throw away-”
“You can,” he says firmly. “You have to. There’s no way we can- it’s not realistic.”
“Realistic?” you echo, stunned. “This isn’t some hypothetical. It’s already happening.”
He turns away from you again, pacing. You can tell by the way he won’t look at you that he’s unraveling, fast.
“This ruins everything,” he mutters. “Everything I’m supposed to be doing. Everything my father expects-”
And there it is.
You step back like you’ve been struck.
“So that’s what this is about?” Your voice cracks. “Your father?”
He doesn’t answer.
You wrap your arms around yourself. “I came to you because I thought you deserved to know. Because I thought, maybe, you’d care. But all you see is how it inconveniences you.”
His shoulders are tense, unmoving.
“I’m scared too, Draco,” you whisper. “But I’m still here. I’m still trying.”
Nothing. Silence.
And then, “You should get rid of it.”
The words are colder this time. Detached. Final.
Your breath catches in your throat.
You feel everything inside you go quiet.
“I- I can’t believe you,” you say. “You don’t even want to talk about it. You just want it gone. Pretend none of this ever happened?”
“Yes!” he snaps. “That’s exactly what you do when something’s a fucking mistake!”
You freeze.
There it is.
The word you knew was coming but still weren’t prepared to hear.
“Mistake,” you echo, quieter now. “So I’m a mistake too, then?”
He pauses, and it’s clear he hadn’t meant it that way, but you’ve both said too much already.
Draco finally turns to look at you again, and for the first time, there’s something desperate in his eyes. “Because I can’t fix this. I can’t make it okay. And I sure as hell don’t know how to be a father. I’m not even a decent boyfriend.”
The words hang in the air, heavy and brutal.
You stare at him, your voice nearly breaking. “You don’t have to be perfect. You just had to be there.”
“I’m trying,” he says hoarsely.
“No, Draco. You’re running.”
Neither of you say anything for a long moment.
The flickering green firelight casts shadows across his face, making him look older, and at the same time, like a scared child.
You turn without another word.
He doesn’t follow.