Draco frowned as he paced with Rowan for what seemed like the hundredth time around the bedroom. The poor thing just wouldn't stop crying. Draco had tried laying him down, picking him up, singing, rocking, sitting, standing, and now this seemingly endless pacing. His twin sister, in stark contrast, was sleeping peacefully, curled up on Harry's chest. They'd been switching off holding the crying child for three hours, now, but Harry had fallen asleep right after Nia did, and Draco hadn't the heart to wake him. "All right, Rowan, another trip 'round, and then we'll try something else", he whispered.
"It's the new formula," said Harry, in a sleepy voice. "He needs time to adjust to the changes."
"It didn't seem to bother Nia. She took to it fine." Draco lay down next to Harry, pulling Rowan tummy-down into his arms. The baby's cries had lessened some, and were now more like hiccup-y whimpers than actual wails.
"You heard what the Healer said. All babies are different. Even siblings. Even twins, Draco."
"If he doesn't react well by tomorrow, we'll try something else." Harry turned towards Draco and placed Nia between them. She had woken at Draco's voice and was now looking up at him, her soft gray eyes wide and wondering. Draco wondered again if babies really did know the whole meaning of life, but didn't have the language to translate it, as the old saying went.
"But Harry. What if it keeps happening? What if he remembers this? What if he--" He was cut off by a soft stubbled kiss and Harry's low, reassuring voice.
"Draco," came the whisper. "He'll remember the love." Harry wrapped an arm around his family and closed his eyes. Rowan was full asleep now, his breathing quiet and even.
Just before exhaustion finally caught up with Draco and he drifted off as well, he thought it a fair bet that Harry was right.