Bonded To You (Drarry)

34 Weeks

Stress. It had been stress that had made Draco collapse. At least, that's what Hermione had said was probably the cause. At first, the witch recommended bed rest for two weeks, then she said it would have to be until the end of the pregnancy, which the blonde wasn't taking so well.

"She said any physical activity wouldn't harm the babies, so why am I supposed to sit on my arse all day, huh?" the blonde whined for the thousandth time that morning. Harry rolled his eyes.

"It's dangerous for you, and you're equally as important. Why would you want to get up anyway? I can bring you anything you want. Just use the mind link to tell me," the brunette said, gesturing at all the magazines, food, and books that the blonde had made Harry bring up to his room during the past two weeks so Draco wouldn't get bored while Harry was at work. The blonde huffed.

"The boss said he'd replace me after two weeks. I was kind of hoping to go back today," the blonde murmured, playing with the bedsheets and looking away from Harry. The brunette fought the urge to ask if Draco was crazy.

"Why would you want to go back there?" he asked with what he hoped was a casual tone. Draco's head snapped up at that.

"Did you really expect me to quit because of one customer?"

Harry shook his head, but deep down, he wanted to scream "yes!" Of course, he had thought that. A few months earlier, the blonde couldn't even step foot outside the house. He broke down whenever he was forced to interact with another person. After what that customer had said to Draco, the brunette had expected the blonde to regress and want to stay in his room, not complain about being unable to go to work.

"This just feels like a huge step back," the blonde said with a sad tone.

"It's the thought that counts, right? At least you're not...uncomfortable with going out anymore," Harry said cheerfully, trying to get Draco to smile. He didn't need to pretend to be happy. The blonde hated his job. Harry could sense that without Draco saying anything. During every shift that Draco had, the brunette always felt paranoia, panic, and anxiety radiating from Draco's end of the bond. The blonde was clearly pushing himself too hard because he wanted to get better before the birth. Harry wasn't an expert or anything, but he was pretty sure that recovering from such illnesses couldn't be sped through. The brunette really really didn't want the blonde to go back to the cafe again.

"That just sounds like a lousy excuse not to go outside. I am still uncomfortable with it. That's the problem. That's the whole point of me doing this, isn't it? I need to be able to walk out the door without having to take three deep breaths and chant that everything is going to be alright. I mean, if I can't even go to a job where I have to talk to a couple of strangers whose opinions I couldn't care less about, how am I ever supposed to go out in the wizarding world and f-face them w-when they all know-?"

"You don't have to!" Harry said hurriedly, trying to calm the blonde down. Draco was breathing too rapidly and the stress monitor that Hermione had given them was beeping loudly.

How could you say that?

You know why I'm doing this, Harry.

You know how important this is to me.

The brunette nodded, already reaching for a vial of calming draught. The blonde reached out and stopped him from grasping the potion, shaking his head at Harry.

"I don't need it," he said firmly.

"Draco, the monitor-"

"Screw the monitor!" the blonde snapped, yanking the bracelet off his wrist and throwing it across the room, "who cares about that when you don't even believe in me?"