The Baby Project: Drarry

Chapter 3

DRACO MALFOY

"Hey Malfoy... you wanna call a truce?"

I stare at the brown-haired boy in front of me, trying to maintain an unimpressed look on my face. He takes my silence as confusion which entertains me even more.

"You know... we could call off our fighting for the next month. I don't want to live in complete silence and this whole baby thing would be so much easier if we actually communicated. And..."

"Okay", I say, interrupting his incessant babbling, "I think you're right."

"I know there's this whole history behind us and we've kinda been conditioned to hate each other but when you think about it... wait, did you just agree with me?"

"Yes Potter, I agree with you. As much as I dislike you, I don't want to live in silence either or have to constantly be guarded around you. After all, we are roommates now."

"You wanna know something, that could've happened from the start. The sorting hat almost placed me in Slytherin. We would've been roommates since first year. How crazy is that?"

My mouth falls open in shock; partly because the Gryffindor darling, the chosen one, the boy who lived could've been sorted into my house. For a second, I imagine the world that could've been, a friendship with Potter, playing quidditch on the same team. It's almost funny how far from reality that is. The other reason I find myself stunned by his words is that I can't believe Harry Potter, the boy I bullied from years on end, is actually opening up to me. By telling me this, he's shown how he is willing to follow up on his offer of a truce. I don't know what to say.

Luckily a knock at the door rescues me. Too quickly, I stand up to open it. A stack of our trunks lay before me, topped with a plate of sandwiches. McGonagall really is too good.

"Oh good," my new roommate says, "I was beginning to get hungry."

We lug the trunks into our room and just as Harry settles down onto his bed to eat, I say,

"Do you think we should feed the baby? He must be hungry too."

Harry disappointedly puts down his sandwich and I hear his stomach rumble. I stifle a laugh, reminding myself that I'm meant to hate this boy who looks so dejected at having a delayed lunch. He can defeat Voldemort no problem, but if you come between him and his food? Well that's a while different story.

"I guess you're right," he says, looking over at the cot as if he had forgotten it was there, "but he looks so peaceful sleeping, I feel bad waking him up."

"I'll do it, can you prepare the bottle?"

I lean over the cot, and pull the baby into my arms. He wakes gentle as I whisper good mornings to him. His gorgeous green eyes watch my face and he begins to grizzle.

"Potter, I think were going to need that bottle pretty soon."

"Just coming," he says in a singsong tone as he hands me the bottle.

"Potter what the hell is this?" I stare at the bottle in my spare hand. Somehow, it's all lumpy yet watery. At the same time. It's practically boiling hot as well. "Potter, there is no way on earth I am giving this to my baby. Did you even look at the instructions?"

His cheeks flush scarlet and he bumbles away to try again. I sit with the baby on the edge of my bed, trying to calm him down before he erupts into a full-on meltdown.

Just in time, Potter manages to rush over, carrying a much more acceptable looking bottle of formula.

"Okay Potter, how hot is it?"

"Lukewarm"

"And how much formula did you put in?"

"Exactly the amount it said on the box."

"And did you taste it?"

"Yes sir...wait, what?! You're telling me I'm supposed to try it?"

"I think so, it seems like the right thing to do."

I watch as the boy before me tentatively puts the bottle to his lips. At his disgusted expression, I can't help but snigger and to my surprise, the baby joins in too with a high-pitched melodic giggle. Instantly Potter forgets his disgust and stares at the baby in awe.

He sits next to me on the bed and hands me the bottle, which the baby gratefully takes straight away. I hold the bottle as he readily glugs away, bright eyes flicking between me and the boy on the bed next to me.

"Hey Malfoy," he says and I look up, breaking my trance with the baby, "what are we supposed to name him?"