Draco Malfoy Imagines

baby mine

Request: Heyy could I request a draco x pregnant reader. Just Draco being caring, patient, excited and a softie. Just the usual fluff in general. Thanks x

Warnings: pregnancy, fluff

Word count: 1k

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Before:

Finding out you were pregnant was an event. Tests littered the bathroom and you had test results from St Mungo's and muggle doctors that both confirmed that yes, you were pregnant, ten weeks along with a healthy little baby.

You remember running a finger over the sonogram, staring in disbelief at the little dot in the photo. There weren't any major signs; some sickness and nausea but nothing to the extent where you though pregnancy. Draco, as a healer, didn't even think of pregnancy – putting everything down to a stomach bug.

Telling Draco – that was something:

"Draco, honey?"

"Yes, love?" He answers, looking up from his seat on the couch, placing a bookmark in the book he had been reading.

"There isn't an easier way to say this, I'm just gonna spit it out."

"What? What's wrong?" Draco asks, concern taking over his features.

"Nothing's wrong!" You quickly answer, calming him down.

"What is it?" He presses.

"Draco, I'm pregnant."

His eyes widen; falling to your stomach as if he could see the baby.

"You're pregnant?" He asks, breathless as if the news had winded him. You supposed it had; it had certainly winded you.

"Yes."

"With my child?"

"Yes, with your child. Do you want to see them?"

"You have a picture?"

You nod, reaching for the sonogram you kept in your back pocket, "I went to the muggle doctors, they did a sonogram to tell me how far along I was. I'm almost twelve weeks."

Draco takes the picture from your hands; his hands shaking as he takes in the sight of the baby. "That's our child," He whispers, holding out an arm for you.

You sniffle as you walk into his embrace; his arm wrapping tight around your waist. He buries his face in your hair; hiding the tears that have started to line his eyes, "Can you point them out? I can't find them."

"They're here," You direct, pointing to the little dot on the sonogram, "That's our baby."

Draco turns to you in wonder, a finger running over the sonogram, repeating, "That's our baby."

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During:

You begin to hum the familiar tune before beginning to sing the song that your mother had often whisper-sang to you in the late night when a bad dream had scared you from sleep.

Your hands tap your bump gently, in time to the melody that you could sing in your sleep. You laugh lightly as you are rewarded with a kick from your baby.

Draco watches the scene, utterly enthralled at the sight before him. You sitting cross-legged on the couch, singing to his unborn child. He didn't think it was possible for him to love you more, yet here you were proving him wrong at every stage of your pregnancy.

Your lullaby comes to an end, "Oh!" You gasp, the baby kicking you again, "You enjoyed that, didn't you? Shall we sing it again?"

You pick up the familiar from the start, laughing as the baby continues to kick you. Your eyes shine as you call out, "Draco, come here and feel this!"

He doesn't need to be told twice, he's kneeling in front of you in an instant, his hand pressed to your bump.

"Are you ready?" You ask, putting your hand on top of his.

Draco nods, more than ready for this.

You take a deep breath before beginning the song for the third time, crooning the words to your daughter in your stomach. It takes less than a minute for Draco to feel the swift kick against his hand.

His eyes shine with unshed tears, surging forward to catch your lips in a kiss, "You're amazing, you're absolutely incredible."

"We could have a singer on our hands, Draco." You laugh, rubbing your bump.

"I don't know, I think more of a tap dancer."

You laugh again, humming your agreement.

"Will you teach me it?"

"The lullaby?"

He nods, his hands still placed on your stomach, eager to feel his daughter kick again.

Tears spring to your eyes and you know it isn't anything to do with the hormones but rather Draco himself – the sight of him kneeling before you, more than happy to learn a muggle lullaby your mother would to sing to you as a child so he could sing it your child.

You sniff, "Of course. Follow my lead."

The rest of the afternoon is spent like that; wrapped in a cocoon of bliss and happiness as you teach Draco countless lullabies and songs from your childhood that he could sing to your child once they arrived. Draco's favourite one to return to though was the one you sang first; where he saw the look of utter elation across your face as you sang to your daughter.

"I can't wait for her to get here," He whispers, caressing your bump.

"She's going to have you wrapped around her little finger... I think she already has."

"So does her mother."

You run a hand through his hair, cupping his cheek, "You're going to do wonderfully – she's going to be the most looked after girl on the planet, she won't want for nothing."

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After:

It was all worth it; every contraction was worth it for the bundle of pink blankets now being held by her already devoted father.

After what felt like an eternity: she was here, safe and sound.

Draco walks around the hospital room; gazing down at his daughter. Her hand tightly grips one of his fingers and he wonders if this is what every parent feels when they finally meet their child. An overwhelming sense of love for both the child and the mother.

He looks up to see your attention already on him and your daughter. "She's perfect," he whispers.

Tears well in your eyes as Draco returns his attention to the bundle in his arms, rocking her gently side to side. They start to fall as Draco starts to hum the opening bars to the lullaby you taught him only a couple of months ago.