hp_bunintheoven

Title: Unpredictable
Author/Artist: themightyflynn
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Prompt: Self
Summary: Draco's mood swings are making him more unpredictable as the pregnancy progresses
Word Count: 959
Rating: G
Warnings/Contains: Mpreg, grumpy Draco
Notes: Thanks to my wonderful beta, who polished this at very short notice!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Waking early had become habit for Harry since joining the Aurors. And not just the slow, gradual awakening that he had been so used to when he was a teenager. No, these days he snapped awake at the slightest strange sound, constantly alert for the danger that he knew was still out there, despite their best efforts. This day was no different. However, his awakening wasn't due to an abnormal creak of a floorboard signalling danger, nor was it because of a softly spoken curse shot in his direction. No, it was due to a soft sigh.

Frowning, Harry swiped the back of his hand over his eyes and blinked blearily at the clock on his bedside. It couldn't really be only half past five, could it? Not on a Sunday! But yes, the clock was telling him it was just after half past five. Sighing, he sat up in bed.

"Draco?" His husband was, of course, not in the bed beside him. A second sigh came, this one a little louder, from the direction of the bathroom. "Draco, what are you doing?"

"This is disgusting."

Pressing the heel of his hand into his eyes, Harry took a deep breath. He didn't need to ask what was disgusting, as this was a conversation the two of them had been having for the past month or so.

"Draco–"

"Don't try to placate me, Potter. I know what I look like. I have eyes."

Harry sighed. Draco was only five months along with the pregnancy – the pregnancy that they had both desperately wanted – but he was not enjoying it, as the Healer had told them he would. In fact, Harry was absolutely certain that Draco had done more whining in the past five months than at any other time he had known him. And that was saying a lot. Shoving up from the bed, Harry made his way slowly into the bathroom.

Draco was standing before the full-length mirror, as Harry had known that he would be. His hands were placed gently on the sides of his belly, rubbing small circles as he frowned at himself.

"People used to be envious of my figure, Potter."

Harry nodded. This part of the conversation tended to go the exact same way each time they had it. "I know."

"I had write-ups in Witch Weekly and everything."

"I know."

"They thought I was hot, Potter."

"You still are, Draco."

"Now I'm just a… blob." Draco spread his fingers over his belly. "I can't even touch my fingertips together anymore!"

Leaning on the doorjamb, Harry ran his eyes down Draco's body. Really, he figured, in the grand scheme of things, Draco had gotten off rather well. Hermione's weight had ballooned with both her pregnancies, and she had spent months afterwards working it off. Draco, on the other hand, had gained weight in the regions the Healer had told them he would: hips, arse, and thighs. That was it. Beyond the baby belly, of course. In fact… Harry cracked his knuckles, a small smile crossing his face.

"I still think you're sexy."

Draco frowned at him over his shoulder. "You don't count."

Raising his eyebrows, Harry's smile widened. "Don't I?

"No."

The word was said firmly, as though Draco thought the emphasis would put an end to Harry's line of thought. It didn't. Stepping forward into the room, Harry licked his lips.

"And why is that?"

"You're obligated to think that of me, Potter."

Unable to help it, Harry let out a surprised laugh. "Really? News to me." Stepping up behind Draco, Harry reached out to run a fingertip along the waistband of the satin boxers Draco had taken to wearing to bed. "Does that mean that you're also obligated to think that about me?"

Draco let out a long-suffering sigh. "Half the bloody world wants him and he's worried about what I think of him," he muttered, his frown deepening.

Harry jumped on the opportunity Draco had presented before he could continue. Wrapping his arms around Draco's waist, he rested his chin on Draco's shoulder.

"Your opinion is the only one that matters to me, Draco."

The effect was immediate. Harry could see the softening of the lines in Draco's face as the words – and the sentiment behind them – took hold. Leaning back into the embrace, Draco's eyes closed.

"Harry…"

"You're beautiful, Draco. The pregnancy won't last forever. And, besides, I'm not objecting to there being a little bit extra of you to love for the next few months."

Merlin forbid if Draco couldn't manage to drop the weight quickly after the birth! But, Harry figured, they would cross that bridge if they came to it. Pressing a soft kiss to Draco's shoulder caused him to smile.

"Would you mind putting that sentiment to the test?"

The slide of one of Draco's hands around Harry's waist had him grinning in response. "It's Sunday, Draco. I will happily spend the entire day in bed, proving to you just how attractive I still find you, if you want."

A deep rumble of a groan vibrated through Harry as Draco pressed back into him. "Don't tease me with promises you can't keep, Potter."

Glancing down, Harry caught sight of the tenting in the front of Draco's boxers. Shaking his head, he allowed Draco to pull him back into the bedroom, a wicked smile on his face.

These fits of self-doubt were becoming more and more frequent as the pregnancy progressed. There was no doubt in Harry's mind, however, of just how excited Draco was about this baby. His only real worry now was that, with the unpredictable mood swings Draco was also prone to, he would end up physically exhausted by the end of the nine months.