Just BringMeFlowers

By Light Catastrophe

Part One

Pairing: Harry/Draco/Severus (HPDMSS)

Summary: When Severus and Draco tell Harry that they are no longer in love with him, he leaves. But there is one detail they aren't aware of: Harry is pregnant with their child.

Warnings: Slash, mpreg, angst, threesomes, sex, swearing, etc.

Disclaimer: I own a laptop and a Zen calendar. If I owned Harry Potter, the series would definitely not be sold in the pre-teen section of Barnes and Noble.

Babblings: Um… people have been asking (demanding) me to write some more of this threesome, and I can't resist it when you ask (demand) so nicely, so here it is. Also, I'm really trying my damnedest to make Harry an actual man in this story, not just a woman with a penis – trying to expand my horizons, ya know? (He's still not a manly man –no manly man would let himself get up the duff– but I know it's better.) So tell me how I did, ja?

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The convertible I drove had been a present from Draco and Severus on my twentieth birthday, only a few months earlier, less than a year ago. It was "brilliant" green, the same color as my eyes, according to Draco, the sappy one of the two, and was my most prized possession, not only because it was expensive, but because it had been a symbol of our love. Contemplating that thought, trying to remember how happy we had all looked on that day, I pulled into the driveway of our fairly large house in the suburbs surrounding London and parked the car. A soft groan escaped my lips as I looked over at the packet lying in the passenger seat. I knew that they would need to be informed about its contents but I was reluctant what with the way things had been going lately.

Nevertheless, I climbed from the car, my long legs, that, at least according to Severus, I had inherited from my dad, easing over the sides. Unlocking the door and turning the handle, I walked into the house, placing my key and the papers upon the kitchen table to deal with later.

"Sev? Dray?" I called. There came no reply but a resounding silence echoing in my ears. Far off, I heard the ticking of the grandfather clock in the living room and the drip, drip sound of the leaky faucet that still hadn't been fixed. Confused, I wandered through the house, peeking in every room, but they were nowhere to be found and there was no note indicating where they had gone.

The front door could be heard opening a few moments later, followed by laughter. Both voices were so familiar to me: one deep and mysterious, the other light and colorful. Their happiness with each other was not altogether unusual, but this time, today of all days, the giddy feelings, and the fact that I was not part of it, went straight to my heart.

"Oh, hi, Harry," Draco said, almost guiltily, clutching his chest from his laughter and grasping Severus's hand.

I, Harry Potter, was a lot of things (i.e.: The Boy-Who-Lived, The Man-Who-Killed-Voldemort), but I was not foolish, nor was I oblivious. I was not unaware of Severus and Draco's closeness as of late, and their constant need of just each other, save when they invited me, or I invited myself, to be part of their company. I was no longer just automatically included as I had been not so very long ago.

"Hello," I replied, eyes narrowing, watching as their bodies brushed against one another, not entirely on accident. No, I was not a fool. This had been going on for some time.

We all shared a stare. I closed off his mind to their invasions and thoughts. Draco and I had been skillfully taught by Severus in the arts of Occlumency, Legilimency, and Telepathy a long while ago. There had been a time in this household that our mind-blocks were never up. We could hold entire conversations without saying a word aloud. But those days were no more.

"We need to talk," all three of us jumped in at the same time.

Another awkward silence ensued until Severus sighed and said, "Maybe we should sit down."

"I could brew some tea," I suggested, trying to relieve some tension, but inwardly I was wincing at how nervous I sounded.

"I don't think that will be necessary," Draco muttered.

The eldest wizard looked hard into my eyes. "Draco and I are fine."

I nodded and followed them into the sitting room. I couldn't remember a time when my legs felt so heavy or my heart so let down. Draco and Severus sat on the couch; I sat on the chair. I remembered when we used to curl up on that couch together, reading or watching a Muggle movie, perfectly content. I wondered when this rift had started between us; when our love had stopped being that strong, pure love so often described in fairy tales.

"You should go first," Draco said, leaning forward and twirling his hair with his forefinger, a nervous habit I recognized immediately. He had done that when he came out to his mother and when we first invited Severus, before we had first made love.

"Er…" I said, quietly, resigning myself to silence. "No, it's not really anything important. You guys go ahead and go first."

They shared a long look at each other before Severus opened his mouth and said the very words I had been dreading, hoping they were untrue, for weeks: "Harry, we can't love you any longer. Draco and I are completely in love, and you…" For the first time since I had known him, my Potions Master stumbled over his words, leaving his (now only) lover to finish his thought.

"What we mean," Draco continued, "is that you can no longer be part of this relationship. We aren't kicking you out or anything if you wish to stay, but…" He actually had the grace to allow a few tears to appear in his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Ry. We didn't mean for it to end up like this, we really didn't. We don't know what happened."

I closed my eyes, letting their words sink in. They no longer loved me. They no longer love me. Absently, I placed a hand across my abdomen. That was none of their business now – and I certainly wasn't going to use to it to make them keep me. Perhaps it was my hero complex kicking in again, but I could never be selfish enough to use an unborn child's life in attempt to make someone love me again. It wasn't their or my child's fault that they couldn't see anything in me now. They couldn't lasso their hearts and make themselves continue to love me. But by doing that, they gave up their rights to me and anything blossoming inside my body.

"Fine," I eventually managed to breathe out, not angry or sad, just accepting, clenching my hands together and standing. My eyes were free of tears, but inside I knew my heart was trying to break. Well, I wouldn't give them the satisfaction. "I'll just pack my things and I'll be out of your hair."

"You don't have to leave," Draco murmured.

"Give me one reason why I should stay," I shot back.

After a few long moments of no reply I decided that was all the answer I needed and left the room, heading up the stairs to our huge bedroom. As I threw his life into a trunk, I tried to think of everything good we'd done together, everything we had accomplished, instead of the fact that I had spent the last two weeks sleeping on the couch as opposed to the bed we had made together by hand to be the perfect size for the three of us to cuddle.

I locked the door to the bedroom, knowing it wouldn't do me any good if they wanted to come in, though I hoped they would have the respect not to. Then I crawled into the bed, underneath the soft sheets, inhaling the scents of those with whom I had spent the last three-plus years of my life. In the silence, I fought back tears. I knew that crying was useless. There was nothing I could do now; nothing could change what had just happened. Suddenly remembering, I opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out a picture that had been taken nearly a year and a half prior. We were standing on the beach, arms wrapped around each other, smiling. A sea breeze blew at our hair. I stared at this for a short moment before stuffing it in my pocket.

Finally, I got the strength to pad down the stairs. Draco and Severus were sitting at the kitchen table, their faces grim. The papers I had placed there earlier were still untouched. I let out a sigh of relief and snatched them, holding them to my chest.

Severus looked at me gravely, but I averted my gaze, fingering the shrunken trunk in my pocket. "Well, see you," I whispered and headed toward the door. Stopping, I said, voice surprisingly strong, "Swear to me that you won't come looking for me and that whatever I'm taking with me is mine and mine alone to keep and do with what I will." They both nodded, but that wasn't good enough. "Say it out loud."

Severus raised an eyebrow, questioningly, but muttered, "We swear," quietly along with Draco. I sighed; I was the only person in the world who knew just what they were letting go of.

"What about the other stuff?" Draco asked.

I glanced around the room at the furniture, the paintings, the silverware, all of which I'd helped buy and put together. "Keep it," I said, turning the door knob.

"Potter, didn't you have something to tell us?" This voice was Severus's and his words pierced my heart. I wasn't even out of the house yet and I was already reduced to a surname.

I gritted my teeth together, willing myself not to break down. "Hermione just called and asked if we wanted to come over for dinner. Nothing huge or… heartbreaking."

With that, I yanked open the door and stepped out into the spring air. I didn't even give them the satisfaction of looking back.

x-x-x-x-X-x-x-x-x

The first thing I did when I could function properly again was trade in my car for a completely different one – one with a roof – and then I drove it to Godric's Hollow. The house was creepily empty and too large, too full of too many things that went wrong. I had never lived there before, at least, not alone before. Draco and I had lived there for a short while after graduation, before Severus… before, before, before.

Thinking in such a way was not going to get me anywhere.

I was not going to mope. I was not going to cry. I was not going to sink into depression. There were too many other things I needed to get accomplished, too many other things I had to think about. They had made their decision and I was not going to spend the rest of my life lamenting that fact. I was young, only twenty-one, with a full life to live, and…

I was not going to cry.

That was my new mantra. Continually, I reminded myself that crying would not fix anything, no matter how much I wished it could. Lord Voldemort had fallen to me, lowly Harry Potter; I could deal with a bit of heartbreak.

"I'd choose Voldemort over this any day," I whispered to myself, rummaging through the cabinets, trying to find something resembling coffee. "This looks close enough." The grainy powder smelled a bit old, but I figured it still had enough caffeine in it – all I needed, at the moment. I made the coffee with a swipe of my arm and sat down at the table, trying to think this through.

I had a job: editor of the Daily Prophet. That worked in my favor, had for years, that's why I had worked my way up so quickly. Now, though, it was especially nice. I decided what did and did not go into the paper, so no one would have to find out about my condition or my break up… or whatever. I had land, and money, most of which was still safely in my vault at Gingotts. I had friends who could help me…

If I didn't talk to someone soon I felt as though I were going to scream.

Fumbling inside my pocket, I felt for my cell phone (a miracle of technology the wizarding world had recently adopted as their own) and pressed the third number on my list, directly under Draco and Severus.

It only rang once before a cheerful female voice answered. "Hello, Hermione speaking."

"Mione," I said, surprised at how weak and exhausted my voice sounded.

"Harry? That you? Are you ok?"

"Can we meet somewhere?"

"Ron took Jared out for the night. They won't be back for a few hours if you would like to come here."

"Okay," I said. "I'll be over in a couple minutes." And I hung up.

Sighing in relief, I laid my head upon the dusty table before I felt that I was focused enough not to break down in front of her. (After all, there is nothing more embarrassing that crying to front of a woman, even when said woman is your best friend.) Then I got up and walked just off the grounds to apparate. I didn't even take the time to drive the car.

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"Listen, Mione," I said, slamming his fist onto her kitchen table, making the vase of flowers in the middle wobble a bit. "I didn't have many options, okay?"

She continued to look at me in that annoyingly sobering way she had, chewing on the end of a pencil that had, until then, been stuck behind her ear. "No, you listen, Harry." Once assured that she had my complete attention, she pursued. "You are pregnant. That kid that you are carrying is one of theirs and they deserve to know. This isn't the time to play the hero, Harry –and personally, I think you've had about enough of that to last the rest of your life– now is the time to get real and think about what will be best for your baby."

"I will not have my child be an obligation," I insisted though gritted teeth. "And that is what would happen if I went back there. What don't you understand about that?"

"I just think you need to stop being so selfish."

"God!" I hissed, completely exasperated. "For once in my life, I'm not being selfish. I was really being selfish then I would be doing anything and everything that I could to get them to take me back. Because in spite of everything, I still love them. But I honestly think that this is what is best for me and best for my kid, okay?"

"Okay," she said, but I didn't know if she was agreeing or just giving up.

"Why are you being such a bitch about this?" I asked.

She just smiled and stuck the pencil back to its rightful spot behind her ear. "So how far along are you?"

"Just under a month," I said, happy that she decided to change the subject. "I actually went in because of the nausea, you know, thought I was just getting sick or something, but as it turns out I actually have this little parasite that is sucking the nutrients out of my body and slowly growing bigger and bigger until one day it'll decide to pop out the other end…"

Hermione just hit me on the arm, laughing. "That's real sick, Harry."

I grinned. "Yeah. I know." Standing up and reaching across the small table, I pulled her into a hug. "Thanks for making me feel better."

"Hey," she said, smiling back. "That's what I'm here for."

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Babblings: Yeah, so I know this is short. I was just sorta wondering what you thought. If no one likes it, I won't continue. This story shouldn't be more than a handful of chapters total anyways. Also, any and all ideas are welcome.

Much loves. XD