What's the use in winning a war if we destroy everything we wish to come back to?

Years of passionate rivalry and endless months of hate between two people can lead to many things.

Both parties involved can be driven in opposite directions, never to see one another again, and things can end all but happily.

Or things can boil and brew until it comes to a head and they both explode into a bloody battle of hexes, hate and fury.

And in some cases, things can take a much more complicated route...

*****

Chapter One

For all of the activity that the castle sees during the day, the nights at Hogwarts were incredibly quiet.

Nothing seemed to be too out of the ordinary for this night. The sky was clear and the Great Hall was no longer the warm and welcoming room it usually is. Now dark and vacant, it's open doors appeared as a wide yawning mouth, gaping at any of the ghosts who happened by.

Even Peeves was being rather low key. He hadn't made a fuss all evening.

The four common rooms were vacant, their fires burning low. Most all students were in bed and sleeping, from Gryffindor Tower to the dripping dungeons of Slytherin.

All was silent around the school, except in the top of the Astronomy Tower.

Where Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter had been sent to clean in the late hours of the night for detention, they were now entangled on the floor.

Insults had flown quickly.

And a rather physical fight had sent them tearing at each other, but ended in them falling to one another.

Draco was above Harry, his mouth sealed over the other boy's, ensuring the silence of the castle.

He rocked into the smaller body, shaking beneath his own, "Potter..." He hissed as Harry made a rather impatient move.

Hands fisted in his mussed blonde hair, "Harry." He said, "I'm Harry."

Draco grabbed his head, bringing their mouths together again. He lowered himself completely on top of the other boy, thrusting harder, "Harry..." He gasped in his ear.

Hands enclosed his shoulders, holding his body steady as Draco pumped needfully into him.

He whimpered, his eyes closing as he buried his head in the damp hollow of Draco's neck, sealing his lips over the sweaty skin. One of his hands held Draco's waist, keeping the blonde as close to him as he could.

They both seemed too lost in one another and what they were doing to really realize who they were with.

Never before had these rivals met one another in such a way. They'd always been broken apart before the tension between them erupted into an all out brawl.

But not this time.

They had been left in the Astronomy Tower alone, to clean and without anyone to intervene, they had attacked each other without much ceremony.

Draco had rolled Harry under him, holding the swinging fists above his head before energetically crushing the other boy's mouth with his own.

Harry had been shocked, as had Draco.

But they soon decided that they didn't much care.

Harry watched, transfixed as Draco thrust hard one last time; throwing his head back and emptying himself into Harry's receptive body.

Warmth unlike anything he had ever experienced before spread through his lower body. His eyes closed and he moaned at the sensation.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed him and began fisting him roughly. He cried out but his mouth was quickly covered by Draco's, and he clung to him as he was pushed over the edge, spilling himself over both of their stomachs.

Draco collapsed onto Harry, both of them panting softly. Harry's arms were loosely about Draco as the Slytherin laid his head on Harry's chest, taking his time to recover.

When they separated and dressed themselves again, they went about cleaning without speaking another word to each other until Professor Polaris returned to tell them their time was up.

The professor quickly trotted down the stairs after telling them goodnight, leaving the two standing next to one another.

Harry felt suddenly apprehensive at what had happened. No, it wasn't the first time he had been with a guy, but it was the first time he had fucked his rival. And Draco hadn't said a word to him. He himself didn't know what to say, or if he should say anything.

Looking briefly at Draco, he mumbled goodnight and began walking away.

A hand caught his elbow and pulled him back into a kiss. He stilled briefly, but then placed his hands on Draco's slender hips. The kiss lasted all but a minute before Draco pulled away, his hands holding either side of Harry's face.

"This won't happen again." He said in a hard voice.

Harry nodded and Draco's mouth covered his once more, but only for the briefest of moments, before he pulled back.

And with one last look at Harry, he trotted off down the stairs, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.

*****

Chapter Two

In the weeks that followed the 'incident' between Harry and Draco, they avoided one another like the plague.

Both seemed frustrated and flustered when they came within ten feet of one another, and protested instantly.

To anyone else it would have seemed like the two were just going on as usual. But to Ron and Hermione, that wasn't the case.

The insults seemed more vile than usual and the tension was unbearable between the two. But whenever the subject was raised to Harry, he throughly denied anything was wrong and stormed away from his friends.

By the time a month passed, Harry wasn't feeling quite the same.

It wasn't just a physical thing, though he had been throwing up recently and his stomach seemed to cramp up a lot. It felt to him that his mind had weakened and his magical poweress was just a bit off.

Hermione and Ron had taken notice and gently tried to breach the subject but Harry just blew up at the two.

Harry didn't want the two of them to discover what had happened between himself and Draco, and by talking about what was wrong with him might lead them to the subject.

And that was something that he could not allow.

When he would insult Draco and take the jabs from his blonde nemesis, it seemed to sting like never before.

Which wasn't a lot, because Harry had never really let Draco's words do more than anger him.

Now, it seemed, when Draco would hiss cruel words in his direction, Harry's eyes pricked and his throat became tight.

Why now, after six years of battling with the boy, was it starting to bother him?

Was it because he had slept with his rival? Because he had shared something with him that Harry hadn't really planned on? Was it due to the fact that this was his classmate who was destined to become a Death Eater like his father?

He didn't know.

What he did know was that it was now a very touchy subject.

He spoke about it with no one and didn't intend on it. Ever.

Almost a month and two weeks to the day, Harry started feeling much different than before.

His throwing up had ceased, but he felt tired and run down almost all the time. He hardly had the energy to keep up on his homework and he found himself dreading Quidditch practice.

What was happening to him?

His anger at Draco almost completely gone, he would lie awake at night and think about him. What was he doing? Was he with anyone else? Had he been since that night in the Astronomy Tower?

Harry hadn't.

He didn't want to be either.

And while he hadn't thrown up in a while, he felt as though he would when he imagined that Draco was, quite possibly, having his way with someone else at that very moment.

He would have to bite back hard to keep himself from crying.

Did he really have it that bad for Draco Malfoy?

Was he really at the point of crying when he thought of him with someone else?

He didn't even like Draco! What happened between the two of them was a mistake!

Then explain the way he kissed you afterwards? What was that about, if nothing?

He would toss and turn, trying to sleep, but ultimately, his mind was consumed by thoughts of Draco until he was certain that he had fallen for the untrustworthy git.

He tried even harder to avoid Draco. But fate seemed to be laughing at him.

Arriving late for a class, he would be paired with Draco for projects. He would bump into him in the hallways, while Ron and Hermione would glare at Crabbe and Goyle, Harry would be left to stare awkwardly at Draco and exchange forced harsh words.

And finally, after all the days of his mind wandering aimlessly and nights of terrorized dreams, he found himself nearing a breakdown.

After a particularly rough Potions test, Harry had wandered down to the lake instead of heading to the Great Hall to eat dinner. He stumbled near blindly to the black water, biting his lip the entire way to keep up his front before he collapsed.

He sat forward, his elbows on his knees and sobbed into his hands.

Never before had he felt so out of control of his emotions.

His magic was different, his mind was playing as many games as his heart was and his body no longer felt like his own.

He was sure that he was going mad.

*****

Draco, who had watched Harry fairly avidly since he had surrendered a game of Quidditch to the laughable Hufflepuff Seeker, saw how the boy seemed to be losing his touch.

Not just with Quidditch, but with everything.

His words were less than harsh during their usual insult sparring, and he just flat out seemed to be lacking the fire that put Draco over the edge with him.

Even Potter's Dream Team seemed fed up with him.

He ignored them in the Great Hall and he never spoke to them during classes.

Not that Draco actually cared about Harry's personal life, but he did care that there was no one left for him to battle in the corridors with.

He was growing fed up with it to the point that he was ready to knock some life back into the boy when he realized that Potter hadn't been the same since that night in the Astronomy Tower.

That had sent Draco running in the opposite direction.

He wanted nothing more to do with Potter, and there was simply no way that he was going to pursue some fucked up sort of relationship with him.

They had one night together and that was a mistake in and of itself. That wasn't supposed to have happened and Draco had made it very clear that it was never going to happen again. Didn't Potter understand that?

Draco wanted nothing to do with the Muggle-loving golden boy.

And he was damn sure going to drive that point home.

*****

Hermione, on the other hand, had watched Harry with sad and sympathetic eyes.

She knew that something was troubling Harry and it was beyond her control to help him unless he told her what it was. But every time she gently tried to probe the subject, Harry ranted and raved that he was fine before storming off.

But she knew better.

He had been neglecting his friendships, Quidditch and his schoolwork. Something that Hermione would not stand by and watch happen.

So when Harry hadn't shown up for dinner for the third night in a row, Hermione excused herself from the table. Using the excuse that she had to go to the library kept Ron and bay and left her free to find Harry.

She didn't have to look long when she saw him through one of the windows in a hallway that overlooked the lake.

Quickly she changed her path and headed out across the grounds.

A million angry words flooded her mind but were quickly washed away when she got close enough to see that Harry hadn't come down to watch the creature in the water bat it's tentacles at falling leaves.

Harry had come here to break down.

She watched him for a moment, standing a few feet behind him, heart breaking at the sight of him.

What was so bad that Harry had been avoiding the two people who care for him the most.

The two people who wanted nothing more than to help him through whatever it was that was troubling him.

"Harry." she said quietly.

He jumped and turned his head back towards her. The sight of his tear stained cheeks and red eyes sent her to her knees, throwing her arms around him, "Oh, Harry, what is it?" She asked, holding him to her.

It took him a moment, but he quickly wrapped his arms around her and began crying again, this time into her shoulder.

She rocked him gently as he sobbed, stroking back his sweaty hair, "What is it?" She asked, "Harry, what's wrong. Talk to me."

Harry calmed after a moment, pulling back he took off his glasses and wiped his eyes dry with the sleeve of his robe. He sniffed, "I'm sorry, Hermione. I don't know what's gotten into me."

Hermione stared at him, though it was mostly with sympathy for his seemingly desperate state.

Her hand stroked his heated cheek, "Harry, you can tell me anything, you know that."

Nodding, he gently took her hand in his, "I know, Hermione." He swallowed, "But I'm fine, really." She opened her mouth to protest, "I'm not exactly sure what's wrong. But I'll be fine."

She didn't seem satisfied with this, but she squeezed his hand, "Please let me help you Harry. I love you and I don't want to see you suffer like this."

He smiled, in what felt like the first time in weeks. "Thank you, Hermione. But I think that's about all you can do for me. At least until I figure out what the hell's the matter with me."

She smiled sweetly at him, still holding his hand and brushing his hair back with the other before leaning in to hug him once again.

Harry closed his eyes, leaning his chin on her shoulder and wrapping his arms around her. He honestly didn't know what he would do if he didn't have Hermione in his life. Especially at times like these.

She loved him unconditionally and always had.

Little did he know that within the next two months he would be completely dependant on her in more ways than one.

*****

Chapter Three

At the start of the second month, Harry was feeling more normal than before.

No drastic mood changes, he was never sick anymore and his stomach was only cramping up slightly every now and then.

The only thing that seemed to remind him of how he had been feeling just last month was seeing Draco every day. His heart seemed somehow pained by the mere look of him.

He didn't know why the blonde boy was having such an effect on him and it was about driving him to madness. Harry wanted to hex him and in the next moment, he wanted nothing more than to spend just one more night under him.

He closed his eyes, covering them under the guise of propping his forehead up as he stared down at his notebook.

Slowly his mind combed over the very details that were making him insane.

The way Draco's lips felt against his pulse, how his tongue slid so expertly against his. The feel of Draco buried deep inside of him, his arousal pounding against his prostate and driving his body to unbearable heights of need. His hushed words whispered into his ear as Draco took him so flawlessly against the cold floor of the Astronomy Tower. The roll of his hips, the sight of his pale naked body...

Harry opened his eyes and quietly cleared his throat.

His mind had gotten away from him and now he was sitting in the middle of Philosophy class with an erection.

Luckily the room was dark and everyone was watching Professor Ixion (a projector changing pictures behind her) as she explained the strange workings of Alexander the Great's mind and how it related with eerie similarity to that of the fifteenth century writer Markus Siliain.

Thankfully no one was paying any attention to him at all. Hermione next to him was taking down everything her new favorite teacher said as law and on the other side of him was the wall. So he sincerely doubted that anyone was going to notice that he was hard.

He himself tried to ignore it, shifting uncomfortably and trying to pay attention. A glance down at his notes proved that he was due to write something down.

And his plan worked well for about a minute. Just as he was writing down that Alexander had a complex worse than Voldermort's (of course Ixion hadn't worded it that way), his stomach began to cramp up.

He placed his quill down and grabbed his stomach as discretely as he could.

What the hell was going on with this?

He slowly rubbed where it was aching, this time just above his pelvic bone on the left side.

Harry tried desperately to ignore what his massaging hand was doing to his once fading arousal. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to decide what was worse, his rare but powerful stomach pains or the fact that he was so blatantly aroused.

And now that he was thinking about it, this wasn't the first time he had let the thoughts of his one and only night with Draco take him away from reality.

Twice in Transfiguration, once in Potions, six or seven times during dinner and more times than he could count at night.

He ignored his body and tried his best to concentrate on the task at hand, which was suddenly easier as the room was completely lit up again.

Professor Ixion had turned the lights back on and was sitting on the edge of her desk, which was the position she was almost always in while teaching.

Though he wouldn't admit it, he admired the young professor as much as Hermione did.

She was an undercover Auror who had come to England at Professor Dumbledore's request. Harry recalled the night he first met her with ease.

----

----

"Now!" Professor Ixion said, causing Harry to jump out of his memories with a start, "I would like to pair you all off with someone from a different house than your own for this next project." There was almost a collective groan from about the room.

"Don't act so excited now!" She said, smiling as she picked up a sheet of parchment, "I've already made the pairs, so when you hear your name, please move to where your partner is sitting."

She went on to name off people, Ron with a Ravenclaw girl, Hermione with a Hufflepuff girl and so on; until Harry and Draco were the only two left without partners.

The room was noisy as everyone moved off to sit next to their partner but both Draco and Harry heard Professor Ixion call them down to the front of the room.

This classroom had a very particular shape to it. It had been modeled after a muggle college classroom, circular in shape where one would usually enter from the bottom and walk up to get to their seats which curved with the room to face the front of it.

The only difference was that Professor Ixion was the only one who entered from the bottom of the room. Everyone else came in through the hallway at the top of the room and moved down to get to their seats.

Harry cursed his misfortune and begged that Draco wasn't really his partner. Little did he know Draco was doing exactly the same thing as they both came to a halt in front of her as she sat, legs dangling over the front of her desk in her usual spot.

"I didn't pair you two with one another." She started, leaving them to breath a sigh of relief, "But neither one of your partners are here today. Now you guys have a few options... you can either start your separate projects, letting your partners take credit for your work when they return, or work together. But I'll leave it up to you."

She waited quietly as the two briefly glanced at each other. Draco didn't speak but Harry fidgeted nervously, cramps returning to his stomach, "We'll work together."

Draco's head snapped over to him and he folded his arms, "Don't presume that I'll just work with you, Potter." He started.

"It'll be easier for all of us if you do." She said, cutting his rant off before it gained any steam. "Think about it, do you really want someone taking credit for the work you'll do by yourself?"

She had a point, loathe Draco was to admit it, "Whatever." he grumbled.

Professor Ixion smiled at him despite his attitude. "Thanks you guys. Now, head on up and I'll tell you what your assignment is."

Surprisingly, without a lot of fuss, Harry gathered up his things and climbed up a few rows to sit in the "Slytherin Section" of the room, next to Draco. A few people cast them disapproving gazes, but neither had their minds on that.

Professor Ixion quieted them and began to explain their project and how it would take the better part of this term to complete. They would be in these pairs twice a week to work on it. Draco had groaned and thrown back his head before folding his arms across his chest angrily. He would have been better off having his absent partner leeching off of him than to have to work with Potter for the next few weeks.

Harry wasn't excited about it either. Especially with the way he had been thinking about Draco lately. This was going to be worse torture than usual to have to be close to him.

She was in the midst of explaining that what she had been saying today in class about how it was believed that the most tortured souls were reborn with memories of their previous lives and pain was extremely important.

Harry groaned inwardly, great. The day he had been paying almost no attention at all turned out to be the most important.

"Reincarnation is completely up to you to either believe in or not. I've given you several examples of wizards and witches that have been thought to be reincarnated. Now, I'd like you and your partner to do one of two things. Either find two specific examples of wizards who have been reincarnated, and explain why this happened in no less than five rolls of parchment." Many groaned, "Or find two specific examples of wizards who were said to have been reincarnated, but you believe they were not. Explain why you believe it was not true, giving examples, in no less than seven rolls of parchment."

More groans of objection sounded and Dean Thomas raised his hand, "Yes, Mr. Thomas." She said, pointing to him.

"Why seven rolls of parchment for explaining against it and only five for explaining for it?"

She leaned back against her desk and crossed her legs at the ankles, "Because, Dean, it's much harder to prove that something is true than to prove that it isn't." It appeared at the Professor was going to continue to speak, but at that moment, the door at the bottom of the classroom opened.

She turned her head and looked as Professor Snape walked over to her, "What can I do for you, Professor?" She asked.

The room murmured at a quiet tone as he approached her and spoke quietly into her ear. Her face went from smiling to looking a bit anxious. When he pulled back, she turned to the students, "Very quickly, are there any questions?"

No one said anything and she pushed herself away from her desk, "Okay, if you have a question feel free to stop by at any time and ask, otherwise, we'll cover them later this week. I'd like you all to at least speak with your partner about the project before we meet again on Friday. I'll expect to see evidence that the two of you have meet at least once in two weeks time. Class dismissed."

She then turned to Professor Snape who was looking directly at Harry and Draco.

"You put Potter and Malfoy together?" He asked with an air of amusement.

She shook her head as they walked out of the classroom, "Not on purpose."

Harry gathered up his books and turned to Draco, but he had already begun walking down the row towards the aisle. "Malfoy." He called, somehow thinking that he should have called him Draco.

The blonde paused and turned back to him, not speaking a word as Harry walked up to him. His stomach tightened and he almost felt sick, he was so nervous. What the flying hell was the matter with him?

This was just Malfoy for God's sake!

Draco stared at him, "What?" He demanded.

Harry cleared his throat, "Uhh... When... when do you want to..."

"Well spit it out already!" Draco growled.

"When do you want to get together?"

Draco blinked as if what Harry said had meant something else to him. But before Harry could analyze it any further, Draco's eyes were back to their malicious grey full of nothing.

Harry waited a moment and when Draco didn't speak, he did. "What about tomorrow?" He asked. Today was Monday, and that would give him a day to prepare himself for being in close contact with Draco.

"Quidditch." Draco said simply.

"Oh yeah... Ravenclaw right?" Harry asked, not really looking for an answer.

"Wednesday." Draco said.

Harry shook his head, "Hufflepuff."

"Fuck." Draco muttered. The class was almost entirely gone. The only two that had lagged behind were Weasley and Granger. Waiting for their Harry. He snorted inwardly. They couldn't do a bloody thing without Golden Boy leading the way.

Wait... did he just refer to Potter as Harry? Even in his mind that was a dangerous thought.

"Thursday then." Draco said, annoyed.

"We both have a Potions essay due for Friday." Harry said.

"Then do it tonight!" Draco yelled, causing Harry to lean back away from him and place a hand on his stomach.

Harry rolled his eyes, "PMS much?" He asked, "Fine. Thursday."

Draco chose to ignore the menstruation comment and turned away from Harry, "Library, after dinner."

And without another word, he strode into the aisle and walked up with stairs with an air of grace Harry had a feeling that only a Malfoy could posses.

He shook his head and followed Draco up, stopping at the top of the room to walk out with Ron and Hermione.

"Bloody Ixion, putting you with that wanker." Ron started.

"Ron..." Hermione warned.

Harry shook his head, "She wasn't going to pair us together. It was an act of God."

"More like an act of Satan." Ron grumbled.

"Oh honestly Ron." Hermione huffed as they walked along the mostly deserted corridor. Almost everyone had headed off to the Great Hall for lunch.

"Well if it wasn't Ixion's fault, then Harry has the worlds most rotten luck ever."

Harry nodded, but inside he wasn't sure it was all that rotten.

Maybe something good could come of this... maybe he and Draco could...

He wasn't sure what he was going to think after that because Ron had interrupted his thought train by starting in with some ludicrous story about how they were going to disembowel the Hufflepuff team at the match on Wednesday.

And while he talked to both of his friends about the upcoming game, a part of his mind was still repeating the mantra, 'Not rotten at all.'

*****

Chapter Four

"You're late."

The only two words that Draco had given him since they had spoken at the end of Philosophy class on Monday.

Harry dropped his books down onto the table where Draco was seated without ceremony. He pulled out a chair and dropped down into it, "So I am." He said.

Draco's eyes narrowed. People didn't speak to him like that. But for some reason Potter had it in his mind that he was above the common knowledge that he was better than everyone else and spoke to him however he pleased.

Which was usually with irritation and anger.

Shifting back in his seat, he crossed his arms over his chest as Harry opened his notebook and stared back at him, "What?"

"Where were you?" Draco demanded.

"None of your fucking business." Harry snapped.

Usually he would have told Draco just to shut him the hell up and get on with this. But the thing was, he had been throwing up in the bathroom, in tears over the pain he was experiencing.

It was as if his organs were twisting themselves free of his body without bothering to tell him that they were leaving.

He wasn't sure what the make of it, but for some reason he had kept on talking himself out of going to the hospital wing.

And it was probably going to kill him, he mused. Imagine Voldermort's surprise to discover that the kid he had been trying to kill, without success, for seventeen years had succumbed to a stomach ailment.

Draco did nothing more than narrow his eyes at Harry's statement, opening a rather large and rather old green book before him.

"Finnius Pythia." He said.

Harry's eyes came back alive as he looked at Draco, "What?"

Draco rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically, "At least pretend you aren't a fucking moron." Heat rose in Harry's cheeks and he remained silent, "Pythia was a sorcerer who lived in the early fourteen hundreds. He was said to have a mysterious healing power that had nothing to do with his magic and everything to do with his idol, Crisa Dhírfis."

Harry stared blankly, more impressed than he would every say at Draco's knowledge of this matter. "And who was the other wizard?"

"Dhírfis, and he wasn't a wizard. He's a member of Greek mythology. Otherwise known as Delphi. He was the oracle to Apollo."

He thought a moment, "But if he wasn't a wizard, then it doesn't qualify... does it?"

Draco's eyes narrowed, "Of course it does. Dhírfis was real enough, there's documented proof of his existence in 279 BC."

"He was magical then?"

"He had the ability to see into the future. That's what oracle's tend to do." Draco said, sitting back and crossing his arms, "Your turn."

Harry shifted uncomfortably, pressure suddenly welling in his stomach, "I haven't really researched anything."

Draco sneered, "I assumed so." He then stood abruptly and began gathering his things, "You find the other one and I'll work with this."

Harry stood as well, "That's not how this project is supposed to work, Malfoy."

Draco looked up, eyes searing into Harry's. And not for the first time did Harry feel that after knowing Draco in the Biblical sense, should he have called him by his first name and not by his last.

"You know what, Potter... Unlike the rest of this school, I'm not jumping up and down at the prospect of being your partner for this stupid project."

"Well you didn't exactly protest like hell when Professor Ixion paired us together."

Harry watched as Draco's eyes narrowed at him and he stepped around the side of the table so he was staring down at Harry from about a foot away, "You're so bloody fully of yourself. You think everyone in the world should be so damn happy to know you."

"Oh come off it, Malfoy, you're the most conceded asshole in this school." Harry growled.

Draco looked as though he could have punched Harry, "I should kick your ass right here."

Harry took a daring step closer and whispered dangerously, "Why? That anxious to get on top of me again, are you?"

Draco's eyes widened and he looked quickly around to make sure no one had head that comment. He then grabbed him by the collar of his robes and pulled him close, giving Harry an impression of a very angry Malfoy.

"If you ever speak of that again, I'll rip off your dick and shove it down your throat." He hissed venomously.

Harry swallowed tightly. He had known instantly that he shouldn't have said anything.

Especially with the way Draco had been dominating his every thought recently.

Especially with the way he still wanted him.

Harry brought his hand up to lightly touch Draco's, "Why does it disgust you so badly?" He asked, "You wanted it."

Once again, Draco's head spun, making sure there was no one near them. Luckily they were in the back of the library, partially covered by a wall of books and none of the other tables were occupied.

None the less, Draco pulled Harry back further behind one of the shelves before he continued talking. He shoved Harry away from him, pushing him against the back wall. He stepped up close, planting his hands on either side of Harry's head.

"I'll tell you why it fucking disgusts me, Potter. Because I hate you. I hate everything about you. That was a mistake. And if you ever dare to speak of it again, or tell anyone, for that matter, I swear to God, I'll make you wish you'd died with your parents."

Harry's heart faltered and he looked away, "That was low."

"Get used to it. We're enemies, that's what we do."

Harry still wasn't looking at him and Draco was trying to read his face. He watched Harry's eyes cloud over and he couldn't help but remember the way they looked as Harry gazed up at him. Covered in lust and longing.

Draco shook his head. That was nothing he wished to think about.

He grabbed Harry's chin and forced him to look at him, "What? You want it again, or something?"

Harry's eyes widened and he looked directly at Draco, cheeks flushing, "No!"

Draco studied his eyes, "You do."

Harry knocked Draco's arms away from him and shoved his way past him, "You're disgusting."

"You're the one who brought it up!" Draco hissed, reaching out and grabbing Harry's elbow, pulling him back, "I mean it Potter, one word to anyone and you're dead."

"I'm not gonna say anything." Harry said, freeing himself again, "And you better not either."

Draco crossed his arms over his chest, "And why would I want to do that?"

Harry just glared at him before turning and walking away.

*****

Draco couldn't understand what Harry's problem was.

And frankly, he was absolutely astonished that he had the gall to even speak about what had happened that night in the Astronomy Tower.

It'd been over two months. Why was Potter just now thinking about it?

He was acting like some love sick girl who'd been fucked then dropped by her boyfriend.

Like he'd ever fucking date Potter.

Draco would have snorted at the thought, but he was in the middle of brewing his Nekrid potion and didn't have the time to spare his thoughts on Potter.

Professor Snape was slowly strolling up and down the aisles, checking that their potions were the right color (gold), and berating the idiots who couldn't figure out why theirs was purple.

Draco just smiled as Professor Snape glanced inside his cauldron to see the bright liquid shimmering up at him.

"Very nice, Mr. Malfoy."

"Thank you, sir."

"All right," Professor Snape began addressing the class, "I want your completed potion on my desk and then you're free to go."

Draco's potion needed a few more minutes before it was done.

As he continued stirring, his eyes began to wander. His gaze lingered on Pansy for a few moments, watching as she bent over to pick up something from the floor. On to Granger who was sitting down, scooping her completed potion into a small vial. He sneered slightly before moving on.

His breath caught in his throat as his eyes landed on Harry.

He had his hair pushed back, something he had taken to doing, forgetting completely about his stupid scar and spiking the unruly mass of black hair up. He almost looked like he had been electrocuted, but pulled it off nicely.

And Draco knew a thing or two about nice looking hair.

He took in the way Harry's green eyes seemed to sparkle as he leaned over his cauldron, smiling with his pouty lips as he took in the gold color of his potion.

Draco shook his head abruptly. Why the hell was he looking at Potter like that?

He felt like he should run to the bathroom and vomit.

Shaking his head free of such thoughts, he reached for the small glass container of aconite to his left. But his mind was stuck somewhere else and he knocked it over onto the floor, where it shattered with a small crash.

Hardly anyone took notice though, as he swore and stooped to pick it up.

Granger walked by with her potion, stepping around Draco who just glared after her. He picked up the pieces of glass and set them on the desktop.

To his surprise, almost everyone had cleared out by the time he was done just cleaning up the small mess he had made.

Weasley and Potter were still behind. As well as Crabbe and Pansy. But that was it.

He quickly bottled up his potion and took it up to Professor Snape's desk. He packed up his things and put his cauldron away before turning and running headlong into Potter, knocking the bottle containing his potion to the floor where it broke.

Harry gasped slightly as he tried to grab it. "Damnit, Malfoy!" He yelled and without ceremony, shoved Draco backwards.

Draco dropped his books and lunged at Harry, knocking him to the ground.

Ron instantly grabbed Draco by the collar of his robes and pulled him off Harry, falling to the floor in the process. Harry jumped forward again, attempting to grab Draco, but Professor Snape stopped him.

"What the hell is this?!" He demanded.

Draco, slightly panting, looked up to his head of house, "He ran into me and dropped his potion. Then he shoved me."

Professor Snape looked to Harry, eyes blazing, "He ran into me!" He defended.

"You pushed him?"

Harry's cheeks were flushed, but he nodded, "Yes, sir."

"Detention."

Draco began to smirk, but Snape then turned to him, "Both of you."

Draco looked scandalized, "But sir-"

"Both of you need to stop acting like six year olds and start acting like adults. You're supposed to be setting an example for the younger kids in this school and you both just seem to think it's okay to tackle one another when something doesn't go well between you." He then straightened his robes, "Grow up." and walked away.

*****

Chapter Five

Detention.

With Draco Malfoy.

Fuck.

Harry could not keep these same thoughts from flooding his head over and over again. The entire walk to the dungeons, his mind had been brimming with wondrously dangers memories.

Detention with Draco Malfoy was exactly what had caused him to get detention with him this time.

Albeit very indirectly.

He groaned as he walked down the final set of stairs leading the way to Professor Snape's classroom.

Draco was already sitting in his usual seat and looked up with vague interest when Harry entered the room. He said nothing and set his head back down on his arms, which were folded atop the table.

Harry was silent as he walked over to his regular seat, a few rows behind Draco and sat in silence.

It was almost fifteen minutes later that Professor Snape came in. With his usual air of immense boredom at having to deal with students on a Saturday night, he walked to the row of desks just in front of Draco and stopped.

With his head of house so near by, Draco sat up and watched him intently.

Harry found this almost amazing that Draco had such a respect for this man. The same man that seemed to want his life to be hell in motion.

But he had little time to dwell in this as Professor Snape began to speak, "Since you two seem to despise one another for no real reason that I can figure out, it is my deciding that your punishment is that for the next two hours you two will sit here." He pointed to the desk he was standing next to, "Across from one another, in silence."

Harry found this entirely strange. This did not seem like a punishment worthy of Snape.

Usually they'd be scrubbing out the cauldrons or reorganizing the ingredients cupboard.

It seemed almost too simple.

"Now." Snape said, drawing both of their attention.

Harry was the first to move, standing up and walking the short distance to where Professor Snape was standing. He pulled out one of the stools and sat.

Draco, however, seemed much less apt to move, "Now, Mr. Malfoy. The sooner you two get started with this, the sooner we can all get out of here."

Still, he remained seated for a minute, seemingly thinking to himself, or probably wondering when his favorite teacher had turned into a lunatic.

Slowly, he moved to sit across the desk from Harry, awaiting further instruction.

"Put your right hand on the desk."

At this, both of the students looked up at him. He had his wand out, which caused them both to eye it suspiciously, as well as him.

But both complied, each placing their hands on the desktop.

"Shake hands."

Draco sighed loudly. This was getting ridiculous. Were they going to have to kiss next?

Wait, scratch that. Best not to think of such things.

Before he cleared his head, Harry had reached over and taken his hand in his.

Draco looked down, his heart beating a bit more rapidly. Had Harry's skin been this soft that night in the Tower?

He studied his rival's hand. It was just a bit smaller than his, smooth and tan. The contrast of their skin was almost mesmerizing.

Draco stopped himself as his other hand began to reach up, wanting to touch Harry's hand. He wanted to feel it again.

Quickly he looked away, not realizing that Professor Snape had spoken until it was too late.

A warm pale blue light washed over their hands and Draco felt a pressure on his wrist. His head snapped back to where his hand was still holding Harry's and his eyes widened instantly. What had Snape done to him?

A thin silver cuff was around his slender wrist, the same with Harry. And between them, dangled a very short silver chain.

His eyes shot up to Professor Snape who was smirking slightly.

That bastard had bound them together.

Before he could even open his mouth to protest what had just been done to him, Professor Snape spoke, "This is a binding cuff. If either of you try to remove it, or leave this table, it will tighten. It will continue to grow tighter until it crushes your wrist."

Harry's eyes seemed to widen, but Draco was staring at Professor Snape in horror and didn't notice.

There was no way that his favorite teacher, the only one that he respected and admired, would have done this to him.

Not bound him to Harry Potter for two hours.

"Now, I said you will sit in silence, but you may speak only if it is nicely." He sneered, "Or the cuff will tighten." He turned around and began walking down the aisle to the back of the class room,

"Enjoy yourselves."

*****

Neither of the boys had said a word to one another.

And neither of them seemed to believe this.

Even an hour later, they seemed to not be able to comprehend that they were stuck holding hands with each other.

Of course, they had tried to fight their hands back from one another, but the cuff had interpreted this as them trying to take it off and tightened around their wrists.

They had stopped instantly.

Now, they sat across from one another, hands clasped tightly together.

Not only had they found that the cuff would tighten, but the chain between their hands shortened as well. Their hands were brought closer together and they were forced to take a firm grim on each other's hands.

"I can't believe this." Draco muttered.

Harry held his breath, praying that the cuff wouldn't take this as negative talking between each other.

Thankfully, it didn't.

Harry turned his hand slightly and loosed his fingers from Draco's. The blonde looked up at him, "Don't move!"

"My fingers are tense as hell and your hand is sweaty." He informed the other boy.

Draco said nothing but laid his arm down with his chin resting on top of it.

Harry, on the other hand, looked around, never really having examined more of the Potions room than he had to. Through the few windows he could see that it was completely dark outside now and that it had started to rain.

He sighed, mirroring Draco's position and now turning to look at the Slytherin.

Draco tried to ignore the feeling of Harry's intense green eyes on him, but he knew all too well the feel of other people looking at him.

And why shouldn't they?

He was damn good looking.

Minutes passed and it seemed that Harry had no intention of looking elsewhere.

Growling, Draco turned his head to burn his own gaze into Harry, "What the fuck are you looking at?"

The cuffs around their wrist tightened instantly, twisting their hands to a sharp and painful angle.

Harry gasped at the sudden pain and glared at Draco, "Watch it!"

Draco tried to turn his hand back to take Harry's but he couldn't, "Shit, my wrist is stuck."

Harry took hold of his hand, sliding his fingers down and around Draco's; tightening his grasp. They had found after the first time the cuff had shrunk that it was better if they didn't touch it. It gave off a strange feeling jolt when they did. So when Draco's hand had been stuck before, Harry had to get it back into his grasp by using only the hand trapped in the cuff.

Finally Draco's hand relaxed against his and he breathed a tiny sight on relief.

Draco put his head back down, "Why do you keep staring at me?"

Harry shrugged, "There isn't anything else in the room quite as aesthetically pleasing as you, I suppose."

Draco easily heard the sarcasm, but didn't respond; thankfully neither did the cuff.

Once again, Harry mirrored Draco's position, "There isn't." He said quietly.

Draco looked at him, surprised. Potter had just told him that he was cute.

Opening his mouth to fire some hateful comment back, he remember the cuff and with no other options, decided on a different approach, "What do you want from me?"

Harry looked a little stunned, "What do you mean?"

"You've been staring at me and I don't just mean in here."

Shrugging how he hoped was nonchalantly, Harry tried to respond, "I don't know why. I guess it's just hard to... to look at the person that you're supposed to hate..." Draco watched him intently, the words 'supposed to' running wild in his mind.

"And... well... not hate them." Harry finished quietly.

He looked away from Draco while the other boy took in what he said, silently.

"That night changed everything for you." Draco said softly.

Harry looked back, "It's not like I want you to marry me or anything." Harry defended, "It's just weird to look at someone you've had sex with..." He blushed as he spoke, "And then just completely hate them."

Draco appeared thoughtful for a long time before he spoke again, "That shouldn't have happened." Draco told him, "It was a mistake for both of us, and you need to forget it happened. Things have got to go back to the way they were."

Harry remained silent but shook his head as if he couldn't fathom doing such a thing.

"Yes, they have to and don't every say that you can't. You hate me Harry." Draco told him. "It's more dangerous than you could possibly imagine for both of us if anyone gets wind of this." Harry watched the hard grey eyes and how they appeared to soften slightly when they met his own, "I don't like you."

"I know you don't. And I don't like you, but I don't want to hate you either."

Draco took in everything that he said, appearing to think. Harry watched as his expression changed several times and he shifted his hand in Harry's.

He breathed deep and just as he was about to speak, the door at the back of the classroom burst open and in walked Professor Snape.

Briskly, he strolled over to the two and looked down at their hands, smirking, "I see you two exchanged some words." He said, taking in the slightly purple appearance of their hands and how their fingers were holding the other's hand.

Neither said a word as he spoke the spell that brought the cuff clanging to the table top.

"If you two are ever involved in a fight in my classroom again, physical or otherwise, you're going to regret it."

Both of the boys nodded, releasing their grip on the other's hand and cradling their throbbing ones against their chests.

"Out." Snape said.

Draco was the first to move, standing and hurrying out the door.

Leaving Harry to curse Snape and wonder what Draco had been about to say.

Sighing, he bid a faint goodnight to Professor Snape and made his way back upstairs to the nearly deserted Gryffindor common room.

Heaving another sigh, he threw himself down in front of the fireplace, thankfully landing in a chair.

He sat in silence for a long time, thinking hard about what had happened between he and Draco. What the blonde had said and what he might have said. He brought one of his hands up to hold his forehead, resting his elbow on the armrest. The other, slowly moved to his stomach, where his thumb began rubbing in slow circles.

He didn't realize what his hand was doing and only stopped when Hermione appeared from seemingly nowhere.

"How was detention?" She asked, dropping into the chair next to him.

His arm wound around his stomach, almost as if he were protecting it. When he noticed what he was doing, he stopped.

Ron, who had appeared with Hermione, lounged out on the couch, facing him, "What'd he make you do?"

"He put these cuffs on our wrist that got tighter and tighter every time we said something mean to each other." Harry said, demonstrating where the cuff had gone.

Hermione shook her head, "Honestly." She huffed, "Well at least you could ignore him."

"That was kinda hard. We were cuffed together."

Ron bolted upright, "You're kidding!"

Harry shook his head, "We had to hold hands."

His eyes widened and he snorted, "Sorry, Harry. It's just..."

"If you say 'funny', I'll hex you." Harry grumbled, hand going back to his stomach.

Hermione's eyes followed the movement, "Are you all right?" She asked.

"Hmm?" He mumbled, not really listening. His stomach seemed to be growing warmer.

"Are you all right?" She repeated, sitting forward, "You keep touching your stomach."

Harry looked down at his hand and then up to her, "Yeah... I think I just have the flu or something. My stomach's been bothering me for a while now."

"You should go to Madam Pomfrey." Ron said.

Harry shook his head. He'd thought about that a lot in the past two months, but it just didn't seem like the thing to do. He felt almost afraid, which was ridiculous. He had no reason to be fearful for what she might tell him. If anything she'd make it go away.

But still, he persisted and did not go.

He could deal with a stomach ache.

Winding his arm around his stomach again, he stared ahead into the fire.

"Are you sure nothing's wrong?" Hermione asked tentatively.

He looked over at her, he could tell there was something more to that question than she was saying.

"What do you mean?"

She blushed, "Nothing. Nothing... it's just... you've... well..."

Harry watched her as she stumbled over her words and finally Ron jumped in to save her, "What she's saying is, Harry... well, don't take this the wrong way or anything... but... you've kinda... put on some weight."

Harry's eyes narrowed, instantly offended. He'd always been skinny, never had he 'put on weight'.

His head snapped back to the fire where he tightened his arm around his waist, "That's a hell of a thing to say."

"No, Harry! It's nothing like that... we've just wondered if anything's the matter. You just seem to be... eating more." Hermione said, flushing again.

Harry shook his head, "Nothing is wrong and if you don't mind, I'd appreciate you not telling me I'm fat anymore." He stood, and ignoring the bewildered looks of his friends and their sputtering of apologies, he stormed off to the dorms.

Collapsing on his bed, he curled up on his side.

He felt the biting sting of tears in his eyes and he tried desperately not to let them loose.

But after everything... detention, Draco telling him that they were going to stay enemies, his two best friends telling him he was gaining weight, and the past two months of stomach pains and slight mood swings, he just buried his face in his pillow and cried.

*****

Chapter Six

The next two weeks Harry spent mostly ignoring Hermione and Ron until he finally got tired of them apologizing to him every moment of the day.

He really had forgiven them, not wanting to harbor any ill feelings towards his friends.

But quietly, Harry was shocked at how deeply their words had hurt him.

He was never this emotional or easily hurt. And he made sure to keep an extra close eye on his reactions to what people said.

Another thing that had caught his eye was how tired he had been lately.

Hermione told him it was all of the Quidditch he had been playing through the better part of the year.

Ron told him it was all of the classes and homework that was being thrown at them as Christmas break drew closer.

But neither seemed a really logical explanation.

He could easily brush it off as such, but couldn't seem to get it out of his mind and a number of things had become suddenly brought to his attention.

He was far too emotional and he had become an insomniac.

After what Ron and Hermione said, he had been watching his weight carefully, and he was indeed gaining some. Not to mention that his stomach was very sore to the touch and hurt him almost constantly.

It was starting to worry him and he finally promised himself that if it hurt up until Christmas break, that he would seek help.

So that gave him one more week to suffer through classes, homework and three more Quidditch games. He could deal with this fine.

At least he thought so.

In the days that followed his resolution, he continued getting no sleep, being tense with everyone and still continued to put on weight.

On the final day before Christmas break, which he would be spending at Grimmauld with Hermione and Ron, he was forced to follow through on his promise to get help.

Of course Professor Snape had given them a test on the final day. What else would he have them do?

In the midst of mixing the final three minutes needed for his Noxious Nectar potion, a sudden queasy feeling overcame him.

He felt hot and extremely dizzy.

His breathing picked up and he knocked over several ingredient containers as he grasped the edge of the table. Beside him, Ron placed his hand on his arm, "Are you all right?"

But Harry couldn't seem to string the words together to tell him no.

His eye sight was starting to blur and his stomach gave a sudden lurch.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, leaving her potion and taking his hand, "Why don't you sit down, you look pale."

He closed his eyes, his stomach was warm and painful. It was the strangest feeling of his life. And he was sure for one moment that he was going to be sick.

Vaguely, he felt hands on him, trying to pull him down onto his seat.

His mind was spinning and he caught sight of Professor Snape walking towards him and Draco looking at him.

If he'd had the time, he would have tried to analyze that look, but he didn't.

Turning his head upwards, he felt his mind going blank and a warm nothing taking over as he collapsed to the ground.

Hermione shrieked as she tried to grab his hand and Ron also made a move for him, but Professor Snape was the one who caught him by the arm; keeping him from hitting his head, but falling to the floor none the less.

Harry saw nothing in those precious few minutes that he lay unconscious on the floor.

He felt cold all around him and wanted to press his overheated cheek against the cold stone, but he couldn't make himself move.

His body began to go limp, the heat rushed from him as quickly as it had come. And he felt blissfully dead.

For a long moment though, he felt nothing.

And he thought that maybe, perhaps, he had died.

But the very second that that thought hit him, he felt warmth emanating from his stomach.

What was that?

What was going on with him?

He wanted to scream, cry, anything.

He suddenly felt very trapped in his own body.

Once again, though, the warm feeling in his stomach seemed to intensify.

Calling to him?

It felt as though his body was talking to him, like it had been trying in vain to get his attention for months and it had at last resorted to this.

He had to listen now.

There was no other option.

So he did.

And the only thing he heard was his mind speaking one singular word to him.

*****

A few minutes after he had fallen to the floor in the Potions room, he had excused himself under the pretense of going to the hospital wing.

But in reality, he had gone back to the common room to spend the rest of the afternoon.

He didn't want to deal with anyone or anything.

Instead, he lay on his bed, staring up at the canopy, hand on his stomach, thinking.

Life.

What did it mean?

The more he thought about it, the more determined he was not to go to Madam Pomfrey, no matter what he had promised himself.

The illness, the bitter mood swings, the weight gain and finally the night with Draco.

Was all of this connected?

Could it really...?

No!

Turning onto his side, he banished all thoughts from his mind.

This sickness, or whatever it was had obviously begun to effect his brain.

But the seed of doubt began to grow in his mind, and there was nothing he could do to dissuade it.

It was not possible.

His hand returned to his stomach where his thumb began to rub slowly.

He had to get help.

That's all there was to it.

He was, quite frankly losing his mind.

Lupin.

He suddenly thought.

That was it! He wouldn't have to seek help from anyone at Hogwarts after all! He'd just ask Professor Lupin for help when he got back to Grimmauld.

Reaching over, he grabbed one of his pillows and held it tight between his arms and himself.

Slowly, he became more and more sleepy, laying there thinking about spending some time with his friends. He felt immensely happy about the prospect of getting away from school. (A feeling he wasn't exactly used to.)

Lupin would help him. Everything would be fine now. He had no more need to worry.

But as he closed his eyes, allowing sleep to claim him, his mind could not stop replaying the mantra...

Please let it just be food poisoning.

Please...

*****

Chapter Seven

Just about the moment that Harry set foot on the Hogwarts Express, he was asleep.

Much to the disappointment of Ron who wanted to play exploding chess. Now he was left alone with only Hermione to talk to.

No doubt she'd blab on and on about school and homework and how much she couldn't wait to start on that Charms essay that Professor Flitwick had assigned them for Christmas break.

He crouched into the seat, propped his head up on his hand and waited for her to start gabbing on.

But the conversation never happened.

After a while of silence in the cab, Ron looked over at her.

Crookshanks was curled up on her lap and she was staring intently at Harry.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

She jumped slightly and gave him a look that seemed to say she was surprised he was there.

Blushing, she looked down at her cat and began running her hand over his back. Crookshanks purred his approval.

"Nothing."

Ron almost snorted, "Don't lie to me."

She looked over at him, still petting Crookshanks. Glancing back at Harry, she bit her lip before speaking, "I think something's wrong with him."

"Don't start in with that. Remember what happened last time?" He asked, looking at Harry as well.

Hermione turned to him, "I don't mean his weight, Ron. I mean... well, you were there when he passed out in Potions class!" She said quietly but with exasperation, "That was not normal!"

"So he passed out!" Ron shrugged, words tinted with anger, "Leave him alone. He's got a lot on his mind I'd wager."

"And so what if he has? He's never passed out like that before. Excluding Dementors, of course."

"I'll bet it's stress. Too much homework and that damn Potions test was the straw that broke the camel's back."

Hermione was silent for a while, not speaking and not petting the ginger cat on her legs.

She shook her head, " I don't know Ron. He's been so moody. Something is bothering him." She sighed, I wish he'd tell us what it is."

Ron smiled near painfully, "He's allowed to have secrets, Hermione."

"Not from us." She said, turning to look at him.

It took a moment but they both began to laugh quietly.

*****

"Harry!" Mrs. Weasley cried, wrapping her arms around him the moment he came through the front door.

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley." He choked out as her arms tightened.

"Ron! Ginny!" She exclaimed as they followed Harry in.

They were both grabbed into an even tighter hug as she released Harry.

Ron squirmed in her death grip, finally let go when, to everyone's surprise, she grabbed Hermione into a hug.

Harry turned around and was even more surprised to be wrapped in a hug by another woman.

The woman was Hermione's mother (he saw when he was let go), "Harry, dear, how are you?"

He smiled. He had gotten to know Mr. and Mrs. Granger pretty well over last summer vacation, and liked both of them very much, "I'm fine, thanks."

"Harry." Mr. Granger said with a broad smile.

"Mr. Granger." Harry said, shaking his hand.

He didn't have much time to talk with any of the parents in the room, because Hermione squealed when she saw her parents and Ron and Ginny were soon sucked back into Mrs. Weasley's arms.

Feeling a sudden pang of jealousy and sadness, he turned from the scene and went off up the stairs.

Sirius should have been waiting to see him, just as everyone else’s family had been for them.

Ignoring the pain in his heart, he continued on, saying hello to Fred and George who were walking through the second floor hallway and went on to the bedroom he shared with Ron.

Collapsing on the bed for a moment, his feet still touching the floor, he put one arm behind his head and the other on his stomach as he stared at the ceiling.

He lay in silence for a short while, listening to the commotion downstairs as Ron was reunited with his family. And Hermione with hers.

It wasn't fair.

"Harry?"

He didn't have much time to dwell on the sadness of his situation because someone was in the doorway.

"Professor Lupin." He said, sitting up.

"Why aren't you down stairs?" He asked, wandering in towards Harry.

He tried to shrug, "Wanted to be alone."

Remus didn't know everything there was to know about Harry Potter, but he did know that part of his character was that he, above most else, did not like to be left alone.

Sitting down on the other bed and facing him, he spoke, "Is everything all right?"

Harry stared down at his hands, which were folded in his lap, trying to think of the best way to go about this.

Well, you see Professor, back in September, I served detention with Draco Malfoy. We got into a fight that led to him screwing my brain out on the Astronomy Tower floor. A month later I was throwing up, eating too much and having the hormonal mood swings of a pregnant woman. And I've been miserable ever since.

He couldn't very well say that.

"It's complicated." He finally sighed.

"Would you care to talk about it?" Lupin asked in his soft voice.

Harry looked up at him, "Yeah, but not now." He said, hearing the sounds of Ron and Hermione coming upstairs with Ginny.

"Tonight then?" He asked.

"Sure." Harry nodded, standing along with Professor Lupin.

He held out his hand to Harry, "It's good to see you again, Harry."

"Same here." He smiled, genuinely feeling it for the first time in months.

*****

After dinner, Harry and Lupin had excused themselves from everyone else and sequestered themselves in the den.

Harry settled into the couch and Professor Lupin sat across from him in a maroon chair he had never seen before.

"Now, Harry." Lupin said, folding his fingers together, "What's troubling you?"

Harry wasn't looking at him, head cocked off to the side, he focused on an empty picture frame on the side wall.

He took his time gathering his thoughts, Lupin seemed to understand and waited silently for Harry to compose his words well enough to speak.

"I'm not really sure where to start." He said, looking up.

"Take your time." Lupin said in a patient voice.

Harry nodded and bit his lower lip, thoughts racing and trying to grab hold of them.

He began slowly, "At school... back in September, I got a detention from Professor Snape..."

Lupin seemed to be grinning slightly, "What for?"

"Fighting." Harry said rather quietly.

"With who?" He asked.

"Draco Malfoy."

He nodded, and when Harry remained silent said, "Go on."

"Well, we had to clean the Astronomy Tower one night to serve it..." Harry was already beginning to grow uncomfortable about the path that this conversation was going. He should just stick to his stomach ailments.

But he wanted so badly to speak to someone who would listen without judging him about what had happened between him and Draco.

At least he hoped Lupin would listen with an open mind.

"We got into another fight. But there was no one there to break us up." Harry shifted uncomfortably and raked a hand through his messy hair, "Something happened..."

Remus sat quietly, taking in the way Harry's face had flushed, his inability to meet his own gaze and, at a steady pace, pieced it all together.

"Ohh..." He said.

Harry swallowed, finally forcing himself to meet his former teacher's eyes.

His heart relaxed into a more normal rhythm when he saw that they were full of understanding.

"This is what's troubling you?" He asked.

Harry nodded, "Sort of. There's more to it than that." And despite the fact that he had just outed himself, he continued on to explain how Draco had ignored him, their encounter in the library, how they had fought again in Potions and served that detention with their wrists bound together.

And the conversation they had while holding onto one another's hands.

How Draco wanted Harry to just forget that it had ever happened, and how Harry just couldn't let it go.

Honestly, how did Draco expect that?

He also spoke about the mood swings and how he thought Draco's rejection of him probably had something to do with it. How he had been sick for months, how he gained weight, the sleepless nights, the constant pain and warmth in his stomach, and finally how he passed out the day before.

By the time he was done speaking he had was almost positive that everything he had described to Lupin were the effects of depression.

He was depressed because Draco had turned his back on him.

He had lost sleep over it, gained weight and even become physically ill.

That was all it was.

He wasn't sick or dying or poisoned.

He was depressed.

But by the time Harry had finished speaking and convincing himself that he was all of these things, Professor Lupin had formed a much different opinion.

"Harry," He started, looking over at him, "What I'm going to ask you, you don't have to answer, but if you're not too uncomfortable, I'd like to ask."

"Sure." Harry said, unsurely.

Lupin looked away briefly before returning his lupine gaze onto Harry once more, "The night you were... intimate with Draco," Harry blushed, "What exactly happened?"

This time Harry blushed so hard that the tips of his ears turned pink, "We... uhh... everything." He semi-whispered.

"Everything." He repeated to himself.

He bit his lip for a moment, "Who... was the, uhh..." he gestured uselessly with his hands, but coming up with no other word spoke the only one he could think of, "dominant one?"

Harry looked instantly away, to his hands in his lap, face beet red.

Lupin's cheeks had stained themselves a light red as well, but he had to get an answer out of Harry, even if they were both embarrassed.

"Draco." Harry said just above a whisper.

And Lupin's heart sank.

In that moment, though he would go on for the next few minutes desperately disagreeing with himself, he knew what was wrong with Harry.

With a deadly certainty.

And the Malfoy boy wanted nothing to do with Harry now. What a fucking mess.

Biting his lip, he knew he had to find out for sure. To put these ludicrous ideas to rest.

"Harry..." He started, not looking at him, but drawing the still furiously blushing boy's attention, "Would you come with me please?"

With a look of confusion, Harry stood and followed a very tense looking Lupin from the room.

Lupin paced quickly through the hall and pushed open the doors to the library. It was dimly lit, the fire burning low, but vacant and that's all that seemed to matter as he began searching through the sideways titles for something.

"What are you looking for?" Harry asked, hoping maybe to get an answer as to what was going on as well as help.

It took about a minute, but he finally grabbed a book that was as dusty and faded as anything Harry had ever seen. It looked about five hundred years old.

Lupin turned on his heel, opening the book and walking back out of the room with Harry in tow.

On down through the house he followed Lupin as he continued shifting through the book, obviously looking for something he knew resided within its pages.

When the reached the kitchen, he began calling down different items to the table. A small black cauldron was placed on top of an equally small burner. And Harry watched with amazement as

Professor Lupin began mixing up some bizarre purple looking potion that smelled like sweaty feet without even looking up.

"Professor..." Harry tried speaking, getting near frustrated. This was getting ridiculous, "What's going on?"

Lupin finally seemed content that his eyes had absorbed every word the few pages he kept flipping around in had to offer, and he turned to Harry, setting it down in a small could of dust.

Harry got the distinct impression that Lupin had been the first to handle that book in a very long time.

"Hold out your finger." He said.

Not really understanding, but trusting, he held out his hand without second thought.

His trust turned out to be misplaced as Remus jabbed the tip of his finger with what looked like the tip of a quill pen.

Harry gasped and tried to pull his hand back out of reflex, but Lupin had a hold of his wrist and pulled him up out of his seat by it. Harry watched as Professor Lupin squeezed his finger, the tip turning plum purple as it forced out a few drops of his blood into the cauldron.

Harry finally yanked his hand back, "Professor! What the hell-"

He stopped as the potion began to hiss loudly and bubbly ferociously. Harry stared, as did Lupin.

For almost five minutes they stood in silence, both were waiting, only Remus knew what for. But Harry could venture to guess a color change of the now simmering liquid.

The color was swirling.

Lively purple to a sick looking green. Cold maroon to sky blue. Pumpkin orange to shimmering silver.

As the colors changed, Harry wondered if perhaps Professor Lupin had gone mad.

The seconds ticked away, the color changing happened slower and slower; becoming less vibrant with each morph.

Deep brown to pale pink. Midnight black to ivory white.

And finally, it made it's final change from blood red to shining green and the potion went entirely calm.

Harry's eyes shifted from the cauldron to Lupin.

He was staring into the liquid as if it were the most God-awful thing in the world. But he didn't speak. He had no idea what was going on. Only that it didn't seem right. This had something to do with him and whatever it was, was obviously not good.

Winding a hand protectively around his stomach, he watched as Lupin suddenly came back alive. His eyes following the movement of Harry's hand with the avid intensity of a hungry serpent.

Harry's arm tightened and he was just about to speak when Remus turned to look back at the book.

Sighing deeply, he lifted the cover and slowly closed it; a dull thud echoing in the extremely empty kitchen.

He licked his bottom lip before turning as slowly as possible to look at a completely bewildered Harry. His eyes were teamed on his stomach.

"Professor... what the hell just happened?" He asked, drawing Lupin's gaze.

He was silent for a long time, or so it seemed; though it was probably just a moment.

But the next few words spoken made his entire world spin, flipped his life and slippened his grasp on reality.

Time was hardly something he was thinking about as he collapsed, thankfully into the chair he had been sitting in before.

Two words swirling around in his head.

Two unbelievable words that, at the same time, formed the most comprehensive sentence he had ever heard.

"You're pregnant."

Life.

*****

Chapter Eight

Pregnant.

He, Harry Potter.

The boy that had stopped the most horrible wizard in the world six different times, survived encounters with a basilisk and a Hungarian Horntail Dragon. Who had battled through the murky depths of an endless lake, past grindylows, and rescued his friends from a group of detestable Merpeople, while nearly drowning in the process.

The very same Harry Potter who had befriended a Hippogriff, saved his godfather's life and soul while striking fear into the heartless void of dozens of Dementors when he was in his third year of school.

Yes, he, Harry Potter, who was only seventeen years old.

He stared starkly ahead, brows brought together in a terrorized sense of contemplation, and breathing shallowly.

Lupin was speaking, trying to get him to focus. Hands were on his shoulders, but he couldn't feel them.

He shook his head, "No." He tried to whisper. But not a sound came out.

He felt lightheaded, and suddenly it seemed very hard to make his lungs inhale. His throat tightened and tears burned in his eyes. But his mind was uncomprehending. No thoughts were being processed.

He simply could not feel.

His sight grew dimmer and he felt himself vacating his body.

Blissfully, he fell into unconsciousness.

-----

Draco Malfoy paced his bedroom.

His father had requested an audience with him and he hadn't liked the look about him as he did.

Nervously he wrung his hands then raked them through his hair. "Damnit!" He cursed and stepped over the his bedroom mirror to smooth it back into place.

A moment later he resumed his pacing. This had something to do with the Mark. He knew it.

He'd been able to avoid it for years, his mother had made sure that his arm had remained clean.

But now...

Now he was turning eighteen soon and he would be left at the whim of his father.

Biting his lip, he turned and stalked out into the hallway, heading for the stairs.

Halfway down the hall, he stopped and stood still. His eyes focused on the light at the top of the stairs. He could hear his father speaking with someone.

He didn't know or care who it was.

He knew what was important.

Whoever they were, they were here on Death Eater business.

Something Draco had very minimal interest in.

"Why so pensive?"

He jumped at the voice and spun around.

"And jumpy." The same voice commented.

Draco looked to his right and narrowed his eyes, "Shut up, grandfather."

"Watch it boy." The older blonde warned from inside his gold frame, "Or I'll-"

"Yes, tell my father. I know." Draco growled, smoothing out his robes and taking a very deep breath. Shoulders set, he strode with a confident look off down the stairs.

After standing outside the door of his father's den for a good five minutes, he had prepped himself up enough to knock.

"Come in." The silkily rough voice called.

Taking one last deep breath, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

His father glanced up briefly from where he was seated behind his desk, "Shut it." He told Draco, looking back to his papers.

Draco got another foreboding feeling as the door clicked shut.

He didn't move, just stood by the door, hands clasped behind his back, palms sweaty.

Taking his sweet time, his father rose, closing his papers into a file and walking away from the desk and towards the fireplace.

"Come here."

Draco obeyed, every sense alert.

"Draco." His father said, turning to face him, "You will be eighteen soon. And with that age comes a new set of responsibilities. Choices must be made."

Swallowing, Draco knew what those 'choices' were, "Yes."

"Have you given any thought to what you wish to do when you leave Hogwarts in the spring?"

He shook his head and his father paced away from him, looking over the shelves of books, "There is a meeting soon. The Dark Lord would like to see you." He said as though he were commenting on the weather.

Draco's heart dropped, "See me? Why?"

"Do not question him." His father nearly growled.

"Your classmates, Vincent and Gregory will be there as well." He turned back to his son, "You know why, I assume."

He was silent. While he had given thought to becoming a Death Eater, it had never really struck him as something he really wanted to do. He hated Muggles and Mudbloods, but he didn't want to kill them.

Well, most of them.

He was perfectly happy with his life outside of Azkaban.

"Father," He started, praying for the understanding he knew he wouldn't get, "I don't want to take the Mark."

Lucius spun around to him, "You don't have a choice."

"You never gave me one!" He almost yelled.

In a split second, a very furious Lucius was standing, towering over him, "You will not disgrace me!" He hissed.

"You can't make me do this!"

He smiled bitterly, "Can't I? I'm afraid, my dear son, that you have no say in the matter.

"It's not my fault you didn't have the strength to stand up to your convictions when he fell! It's not my fault you're a coward!"

A loud crack echoed through the room and Draco stumbled backwards, ultimately falling to the ground, holding his cheek. It took him a moment to stop his head from spinning and realize that his father had just struck him.

Gazing up warily, he listened as Lucius continued in a venomous hiss, "I will not let you disgrace my name. I will be welcomed back by the Dark Lord. And you're coming with me."

"As your sacrifice to redeem your yourself?"

When Lucius began walking towards him, he feared his father was going to kick him; but he didn't move. He knew that it was best not to flinch or whimper when his father was like this.

It only made things worse.

"Call it what you will." He said, smoothing back his hair, "But in two months time, you're taking the Mark. Now get out of here."

Pushing himself up, his world still spinning slightly, he tore from the room, running up the stairs and away from his father. Not stopping until he was locked away in his room, crying quietly into his pillow.

-----

"It doesn't make any sense." Ron mumbled, staring at Harry, cross-legged from his bed.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Honestly, Ronald. It makes perfect sense. He's been sick for months now." She smoothed back his hair from his forehead; he winced slightly as her hand touched his scar.

She stilled, letting him moan quietly and turn his head away from her touch.

"Men do not get pregnant Hermione!" Ron protested.

"Hush!" She hissed, turning back to Harry, making sure he was still resting.

"Well they don't!" Ron grumbled, folding his arms.

It was silent for a few long minutes before there was any more noise. This time it came from out in the hallway as Professor Lupin pushed open the door and walked into the room.

"Still sleeping?" He asked.

Hermione nodded, rubbing her thumb on the back of Harry's hand.

Remus walked over, standing between the beds, looking down at Harry in silence.

"You know," he started, turning towards the night stand and picking up two long strands of flesh-colored string, "your mother had the right idea, getting rid of these things."

Ron had the decency to blush and look away as Professor Lupin wound the two strands together and placed them in his pocket.

Slowly, he sat down beside Ron and stared across at Harry.

There was silence again until Hermione spoke, "Professor..."

"Yes?" He asked, quiet and polite as ever.

"How..." She sighed, "How did this happen? It doesn't make any sense... anatomically."

Professor Lupin sighed deeply, looking down at his hands and rubbing them together as if he were cold.

"I'm afraid it makes all the sense in the world actually."

Suddenly, a cry tore itself from Harry's throat and he bolted upright, a scream dying on his lips. He looked about frantically and Hermione leapt into action, "Harry, it's all right. It was just a dream."

He turned at the sound of her voice, appearing startled and frightened, his hand going to his stomach.

"No, Harry..." Remus said, drawing the boy's attention, "I'm afraid that, was not a dream."

"But..." Harry stared, stopping to clear his throat and steady his voice, "How? It's not-"

"Possible?" Remus finished, smiling bitterly, "I'm afraid it is."

"But how?" Hermione asked, reading Harry's thought and wanting to know just as badly as herself. Never before had she heard of a pregnant man and was anxious to know what had caused this.

Lupin sighed, it was obvious that he didn't want to have this talk. But as the closest thing to a guardian that Harry had, it was his duty to inform him of what was going on.

"Harry," He started, staring directly at the frightened looking wizard who had never looked younger to him. "Male pregnancies do not happen often, never in the Muggle world, and almost never in the wizarding world. In fact, it's been a few centuries since it last happened, if I'm not mistaken."

He licked his lips and cleared his throat, "The thing is, Harry, a very long time ago, your name was everything. Especially to pureblooded families. They couldn't bear to let their name die out. And without an heir to carry on their name, that's exactly what happened." He paused, "There was a potion, long since marked illegal, and damn near forgotten about, that would, when awakened, trick the body into producing female chromosomes."

"I don't understand." Harry said, taking hold of Hermione's hand.

"The beauty of the human body is that there are two kinds, male and female. There is no way for the male body to produce enough female chromosomes without the aid of magic. Those extra chromosomes-"

"His body thinks it's a woman?" Ron asked with a strange look on his face.

Remus shook his head, "Not quite. As I was saying, the extra chromosomes produced worked to grow the necessary... parts to allow the male to bear a child. But over time, the spell mutated and combined with the DNA of the body. It was impossible to get rid of by way of magic after that. But even then, the male body just evolved it into something else, making the infected cells appear normal."

He shifted, "Well, after a few generations, the ability for men to bear children as a last ditch effort to produce an hair was no longer needed. It was all but lost, but evidently, not to your family."

"You said pureblood families, Professor. Harry isn't a pureblood."

"Well, as people began marrying Muggles and Muggle borns, the ability was transferred to many other families as well. The spell was stretched too thin and it was thought that the genes that have allowed Harry to become pregnant were all evolved and gone from the bloodlines."

Harry wasn't looking at anyone, he was staring at the floor, "Harry, do you understand this?" But he got no response.

"You also said that it was 'awakened', what do you mean?"

"The thing was, Hermione, that not all wizards wanted to bear a child when... fornicating."

"You mean gay wizards." Ron said.

"Ronald!" Hermione growled at him before turning back to Lupin.

"Yes, Ron, gay wizards didn't always want a child, just like not all straight people want a child every time they... Anyway," he said, starting in again, "It was part of the spell placed on the potion, that the ability was only initiated when the couple was in love."

At this, everyone's eyes snapped to Lupin.

Except Ron who was staring at Harry, "You're in love with Malfoy?!"

"No!" Harry yelled, turning to him.

"Well you must be-"

"Enough." Remus shot at Ron. "Harry's had enough to think about today without you saying such things."

Harry wasn't paying attention anymore, he was staring back at the floor again. "I think you should get some more sleep Harry. I'll bring you up some more of that sleeping draft."

"But-" Hermione started.

Remus held up his hand, "Tomorrow. We'll talk more tomorrow. Harry needs to sleep."

And with that, he stood and pulled Ron from the room, berating him out in the hallway.

"Harry?" Hermione asked as the door was closed behind them, gently touching his shoulder, "Are you all right?"

Slowly he shook his head, teary eyes meeting hers, "I don't know, Hermione. I don't know."

*****

Chapter Nine

Harry slept soundly through the majority of the next few days.

The only times he did awake, were in the middle of the night.

It was the same thing, every time. The same dream dragging him from his slumber...

That's when Harry would bolt upright in bed, crying out into the darkened room.

He never recalled the dream

*****

"Harry?"

Groaning, Harry ignored the quiet feminine voice and rolled onto his side.

"Harry, wake up." It said, shaking his shoulder slightly.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, "'Mione?" He croaked.

The figure nodded and handed him his glasses. He slipped them on and she came into view, sitting on the side of his bed.

"Professor Lupin wants to talk to you. He says it's important."

"Where is he?" Harry asked.

"Downstairs."

Harry groaned, "Why doesn't he come up here?"

"He is, he just wanted me to make sure that you were awake first."

Very slowly, Harry sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before replacing his glasses.

"How are you feeling?" She asked softly.

"Sick." He sighed.

"Well, make sure to tell Professor Lupin."

Before Harry could tell her that he didn't need help and that she should mind her own damn business, Remus appeared in the doorway, "Good morning Harry."

"Morning, Professor."

Hermione gave him one last smile before she rose to her feet and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Lupin walked over to the beds and sat on the side of Ron's vacant one, folding his hands in the polite manor that he always had, "How are you?"

Harry shrugged, "Stomach hurts."

"Well, that's to be expected. Your body is going under some major changes right now." Harry nodded irritably. He'd already known that... thank you Professor Obvious.

"Anyway, Harry, the reason I wanted to talk to you is because there are a few people you have to tell about this."

Harry's eyes narrowed, "The fewer people who know, the better. And besides, I don't know if I even want to keep it."

At this, Lupin's face dropped, "You want to get rid of it?"

"Thinking about it." Harry said quietly, averting his eyes.

Remus was silent for a long moment, biting his lower lip. When he spoke his voice was measured and controlled, "It's up to you, Harry. But if you would like my advice, I-"

"Who do I have to tell?" Harry broke in, obviously not wanting or caring what he had to say.

He cleared his throat, "Professor Ixion." Harry opened his mouth to protest instantly, but Remus stopped him, "She was brought in specially to protect you, we have to inform her."

"Fine." Harry conceded.

"Professor Dumbledore."

Harry nodded.

"And Professor Snape."

"What? No way!" Harry cried, hand going to his stomach and eyes widening, "He'll tell all of his Death Eating friends and then-"

Lupin raised his hand, "Stop, Harry. Think about what you're saying. Professor Snape has no other interest than keeping you alive. You know this."

He stared at his professor, "I'll think about it." He said after a minute.

And while Lupin's face brightened that Harry seemed to be taking his advice, he still didn't think it was a good idea. Who knew who else Snape would tell. What if he really didn't have Harry's best interest at heart?

Would he sell Harry out?

His baby?

"And I think you should also tell Draco Malfoy." Professor Lupin broke into his thoughts.

And he stared.

"Are you kidding me?" Harry asked, "He'll spread it all over the school! He'll want nothing to do with me or this baby!" He realized, vaguely, that his eyes were misting over.

"Harry, he deserves to know."

"He doesn't deserve anything!" Harry yelled, throwing back the covers of his bed and standing up, "Not one fucking thing!"

And with that, he stormed from the room. Locking himself in the bathroom he lowered himself to the floor, back pressed to the wall, he pulled his legs up to his chest and cried into his hands.

*****

Although Hermione was understanding of his situation, Ron was not.

He was always aloof in Harry's presence and seemed almost weirded out by his friend, but still supportive. Harry got the feeling that he was uncomfortable learning that his best friend was gay.

While Ron struggled to change the entire way he thought about homosexuality, Hermione tried to figure Harry's reactions out.

He didn't have a very strong one to finding out that he was pregnant, nor did he seem much to even mind it in the days that followed. And given the current circumstances, she was worried.

Harry should have had at least one weak moment through this but she had yet to see it.

Frankly, she was afraid for both him and the baby.

So, with two days to go before school started back up, she breached the subject with Harry and Ron in the drawing room.

"Harry?" She asked, sitting on the couch and looking over at him to his chair by the fire.

He was staring into it as though he was in a trance with the ever-present hand on his stomach.

"Hm?" Was his response, still not moving.

"Well, Harry, Ron and I were wondering... what are you going to do about Quidditch?"

At this, he turned to the two of them, "What do you mean?"

She blushed, "Well, I mean... you're not going to play anymore are you?"

He gave her the same look that Justin Finch-Fletchley had given him when he had called Malfoy's snake off in their second year.

Malfoy.

He swallowed, "Why wouldn't I?"

Ron gave him a worried look, "Mate... it's dangerous."

"Isn't it always?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes. He knew where they were going with this and he didn't like it one bit.

"We mean to..." He couldn't seem to put the word "it" into the sentence.

Harry looked away from them and whispered his response, "I'm not going to let this thing change my life."

Hermione continued softly, "Harry, it's not a 'thing'... it's your-"

"I know what the fuck it is!" He yelled suddenly, standing so fast that it upturned his chair.

Both Ron and Hermione jumped.

"It's the thing that's going to ruin my fucking life!"

Hermione's eyes were teary, "No, Harry..."

"It's a fucking curse!" He ranted, "This isn't supposed to happen to men! This isn't supposed to happen to me!"

Tears began welling in his eyes.

"Why does this always fucking happen to me?!" He snatched a picture from a nearby table and threw it against the wall, where the glass shattered and the frame broke.

"Harry!" Ron yelled, standing up.

Harry turned back to them, "How could this happen?" He whispered, tears streaking down his cheeks, "How the fuck could this happen?!"

Slowly, Hermione took his hand and drew him down to the couch. He quickly covered his eyes as he began to cry, rocking back and forth slowly.

Hermione wrapped her arms around his hunched form, "Harry, it'll be okay." She looked back at Ron who was standing next to Harry, looking lost and helpless.

At her look, he seemed to come back to himself, getting to his knees beside Harry and putting his arm around his back, "It'll be all right Harry." He said quietly.

"No it won't!" Harry cried, raking his shaking fingers through his hair then returning to sobbing into his palms, "What the fuck am I gonna do? I can't have a baby!"

They could do nothing more than hold him, trying to whisper words of comfort, but he took no solace in them.

He was a fucking freak.

His life ruined by his ancestors from hundreds of years ago.

Was God really this committed to fucking up his life? Didn't he have enough to deal with?

He cried harder, wishing that this was just some fucked up dream and he would awake in the morning with a story to tell his friends.

But this was real.

Harry could feel it.

If he simply put his hand on his stomach he could literally feel it as well.

The baby inside him... his baby, was alive and growing.

It was all his baby.

The baby that had been inside him for almost four months now.

*****

Chapter Ten

The last day before Harry was due to set back off to school was a dreaded one.

He spent almost the entirety of it in his bedroom playing chess with Ron while Hermione lounged about on his bed reading.

They all knew of the meeting going on in the library and none wanted a part of it. Least of all, Harry.

*****

Remus sat down in a rather old black chair, waiting with Albus Dumbledore for the arrival of Professors Snape and Ixion.

Today was the day that he, along with Harry, had decided would be best to inform his professors of his pregnancy.

Except, he was afraid and embarrassed to do so. If Professor Snape hadn't been involved, then he was sure that he would have been able to be in attendance. But the fact that he was involved, made him nervous.

Luckily, Remus had listened to his irrational fear and complied to be the one to tell them all.

Dumbledore had been informed before the other two so that he could back Remus up on what he had to say, and to give his support to Harry.

"Sorry we're late." Numina said, entering the room, Snape in tow, and pulling back the hood of her deep blue traveling cloak. "Trouble in the Ring."

Both nodded and Dumbledore gestured to the worn maroon couch for them to sit while Lupin closed the door behind them.

Numina spread out her cloak and sat with an air of grace, while Snape just sort of threw himself down. Obviously, he didn't fancy coming here on the last day of break.

"Not to be rude, but let's get this show on the road." Snape jumped right in.

Remus got the distinct feeling that he had every intention of being rude. And the look on his face only supported his theory.

But none the less, he began, "Well, thank you both for coming. As I said, we've a matter of great importance to discuss."

Numina crossed her legs and folded her hands, politely waiting for him to continue. But it seemed he could not.

"Today, Lupin."

"Severus, please." Professor Dumbledore said softly.

Immediately, Snape grew quiet.

"This is very... difficult to put into words."

"We're really not trying to be rude, but we do have to go soon." Numina said, quietly defending him.

"Then perhaps I should tell them." Dumbledore turned to Lupin for his approval, which he instantly received.

The aged wizard relaxed back into his seat, lacing his fingers together, "Now, I don't think that it needs to be said that if any of what is said here today leaves the four of us that it will not bode well for the Order."

The two on the couch nodded.

"It has recently been brought to Remus' attention that one of our students is with child."

He watched as both of their eyes widened, "It's not the Granger girl is it?" Numina asked, in a breathy voice.

"No, no, no." He smiled slowly, "It is much more of a problem than that."

"Who is it?" Professor Snape asked.

After a long silence, glancing back and forth between the two, he spoke, "Harry Potter."

And again, there was a long silence.

"What?" Severus asked, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts of the utter bullshit he had just been force fed.

"You're not serious." Numina whispered.

Remus shook his head while Snape just looked like he didn't believe a word of it. And in fact, he almost didn't, "You've got to be kidding us. That ability hasn't been enabled since the thirteen century."

"True. It hasn't been enabled... but it hasn't been lost either." Dumbledore said in his all knowing voice.

Shaking her head, Ixion leaned back into the couch, staring at the ceiling; a look of very deep thought on her face, "Who's the father?" She asked.

They both watched as Remus licked his lower lip and responded, gazing right at Snape, "Draco Malfoy."

Indeed, the look on his face had been something to behold.

His eyes widened and his head inclined forward, "That's ridiculous." He spat. "He hates Potter."

"So do you, but you're protecting him." Remus tossed back.

"I don't hate him." He growled, eyes narrowing.

"Well that's news to me." Remus ground out.

"Gentlemen, please." Professor Dumbledore interrupted them.

Snape's attention flew to the Headmaster, "It's a lie. Draco Malfoy would never be involved with Potter. He knows the social ramifications and what his father would do to him if he ever found out-"

"Which is why he's telling us." Numina said, drawing Snape's gaze upon herself.

She had been staring off again and looked to meet his eyes as she spoke, "He's telling us because Draco needs our help as much as Harry does." Severus continued to not understand what she was saying, "Draco will need to be taken away from his family."

"True and false, Numina." Dumbledore said.

They both looked to him, "Mr. Malfoy will, indeed, need protection from his family should this ever get out, but first, he must be told."

"He doesn't know yet?" She asked, bewildered.

Remus shook his head, "Harry just found out himself a few days ago."

"How pregnant is he?"

"Four months."

"My God..." She whispered, looking off again.

"And just when did he plan on telling Draco this?" Snape asked.

Lupin looked at him, "He doesn't."

"That’s absurd! He has a right to know!"

"Harry doesn't seem to think so."

Snape scoffed, "It's his child!"

"If Harry doesn't want to tell him, we can't make him." Remus said quietly, "Besides... Harry isn't even sure if he wants to keep it."

At this, there was silence. Apparently, this was news to Dumbledore as well.

"Isn't it a little late for that?" Snape asked snarkily.

Numina shook her head, "No, male pregnancies can be terminated at any time." He turned to her, but she was still staring vacantly at nothing.

"And let's say he does have it. How is he going to hide this from everyone at Hogwarts?" Severus continued.

She shook her head, "He'll be able to easily." Looking at him finally, "The babies that results from male pregnancy are very small, as there isn't a lot of room to grow them. Or at least that's what I've read."

Remus nodded in agreement, "She's right. There isn't much written on the subject. As you've said, it hasn't happened in centuries, but from what I can gather, he's about as big as he's going to get right now."

There was once again silence.

"This is ludicrous." Snape whispered at long last, "He has got to get rid of that thing. If the Death Eaters get wind of this then there isn't any hope of that baby living to it's birth. Potter and Draco included."

"We're not going to encourage abortion, Severus." Dumbledore said in a strong voice. "It deserves a chance at life."

He still shook his head and mumbled under his breath, "Madness."

"We can count on the two of you to keep this silent. And to keep a special close eye on Harry. And Mr. Malfoy." Professor Dumbledore said, not really asking.

"Of course." Numina responded almost instantly.

Snape just looked away, still shaking his head. After a long moment he too agreed.

"Well, thank you all." Remus said, standing, "It will mean a lot to Harry that his teachers are behind him, I'm sure."

Numina stood as well, followed by the other two men.

They walked out of the library and towards the front door where Ixion exchanged goodbyes with Remus and Dumbledore before heading out with Severus.

"I'd like to stay, and speak with Harry, if I might." Dumbledore requested once the other two professors had gone.

"Of course." Remus said before disappearing up the stairs and returning a moment later with a rather pale looking Harry.

Lupin excused himself, patting Harry in the back.

Dumbledore gave Harry a once over, eyes resting on his slightly swelled stomach, which Harry covered by his hand almost instantly.

"Professor." Harry greeted, albeit near silently, his voice shaking with nervousness over what Dumbledore wanted to talk to him about.

Was he going to be expelled? Did he want Harry to have an abortion? Keep the baby?

He didn't know and he was afraid.

But it all vanished the moment their eyes met.

"Harry." He said, smiling warmly, planting one of his hands on his shoulder, "Congratulations."

*****

Chapter Eleven

Probably the last thing that Harry wanted to do was return to school in his present condition.

Least of all did he want to return to Philosophy class, which happened to be first on his schedule.

He grumbled as he forced himself through the door at the top of the room and on down the stairs to his usual seat. True, it hadn't been as bad as he'd thought it was going to be, coming back.

No one knew about his pregnancy other than three teachers and his two best friends. And no one gave him a second look or eyed his stomach as he had the underlying feeling that everyone would be doing.

No, it wasn't any of that was bad... it was what the start of this lecture would mean.

"Welcome back, everyone!" Professor Ixion had said brightly as the last of her students were seated. "I hope you all had a wonderful break and have come back wide awake and ready to go." Harry would have rolled his eyes but she had been looking in his general direction as she spoke, so he refrained.

"But I'm realistic in my expectations." She smiled, taking her spot sitting on the edge of her desk, "I know that everyone is tired, and no one really wants to do anything on the first day back, so all I'm going to ask you to do is get with your project partner, and start working on your papers."

There were a few moans from around the room, but no one really rejected her command.

Harry gathered his things and made his way, without a word up a few rows and down to sit next to Draco.

Although he knew this moment was coming, when he'd have to look Draco in the eye for the first time since finding out he was pregnant with his child, he wasn't excited about it.

Not in the least.

But Draco wasn't looking at him. He was staring down at his open notebook and twirling his quill between his fingers.

Harry got out his notes as well, ready to begin and just get this over with, but he couldn't help but notice something...

"What happened to your lip?" He asked.

Draco's head snapped towards him, as if he had no idea that Harry had been there for the last few minutes.

"What?" He asked.

"Your lip." Harry said, "Looks like it was split open."

Draco paled even more, if that was possible.

Indeed, that is exactly what had happened. Later that night, after his father had struck him, he had discovered that his lower lip had been cracked open by his father's ring.

He had preformed a healing spell, but it hadn't turned out as perfectly as he'd hoped. His lip had sunken in slightly towards left side and had the appearance of having a stitch or two in it.

"Nothing." Draco growled, giving Harry the impression that he shouldn't ask about it any more, "Let's just get on with this."

'Read my mind.' Harry thought to himself, flipping around until he found what he wanted in his notebook.

Draco had resumed staring blankly and twirling his quill. Harry watched him out of the corner of his eye.

God was he ever beautiful.

"Chandra." He said suddenly.

"What?" Draco asked, looking over at him.

"Chandra Aegle. She was reincarnated."

Draco finally seemed to understand that Harry was talking about their project and waited for him to continue.

"She was born in 1700, practiced holistic medicine in Rome and also worked as a psychic. She was most renowned for her ability to contact the dead." He turned a page in his notes, "She was said to have been reincarnated from an Egyptian priestess named Natari who was well known for being able to bring the dead back to life."

"Doesn't sound much like a witch." Draco criticized.

"Well she didn't know she was a witch until a few months before she died in 1717."

Draco raised his eyebrows, "Seventeen years old. What a life."

And in a rare moment, Draco turned. Their eyes met and he smiled at Harry.

His breath lodged in his throat as they stared at each other, oblivious to everyone and everything around them.

Without thinking, Harry reached over and touched Draco's hand. Wanting nothing more than to wind his fingers around it.

But at his touch, Draco came back to himself. His eyes bolted down to their hands and he quickly snatched his away, as if burned.

Harry blinked, pulling his hand away as well, "Sorry." He mumbled.

Draco said nothing, but held his hand and continued to stare at Harry.

In his mind, thoughts were racing. Harry tried to clear them, looking down at his notes, but they all seemed to blur before him.

Without warning, he was thrown back to the talk he had with Professor Lupin before leaving Grimmauld Place.

----

And now, feeling Draco's skin against his own and having that gaze upon him, he wanted nothing more than to tell Draco and have him come to his rescue.

Before he could even think about what he was saying or stop himself, he turned to Draco and said, "We need to talk."

Draco's eyes seemed to clear slightly, "About what?"

Harry shook his head, "Not here." He swallowed, the reality of what he was doing threatening to stop him. He rushed on, "Tonight."

"We're playing Ravenclaw tonight." He said, eyes slightly narrowed.

Harry licked his lips, not noticing how Draco's eyes followed the movement, "After the game then."

"Potter-"

He started to speak, but Harry cut him off, "Please."

Draco seemed taken aback by the sheer emotion filling the Gryffindor's eyes and that single word.

And he answered before he could stop himself, "Okay."

He silently berated himself. He should have spat out the word 'fine' at the very least, but again he had gotten lost in Harry's eyes.

What was going on with him?

Potter never had this sort of effect on him.

True, he'd bed down with him again in a heartbeat, but he would never allow himself to do so or fall victim to any sort of relationship.

He wanted nothing to do with Harry in that way.

"Where?" He asked, trying to stop his thoughts.

"By the lake." He answered. "The grey willow tree."

Draco nodded.

And they stared at each other again.

One trying to figure out how he was going to put into words what he didn't understand, and the other trying to size up the other boy.

"Staring contest?" Both jumped at the sound of their teacher's voice.

They instantly looked away from one another. Draco to his book and Harry to Professor Ixion.

"Who are your reincarnates?" She asked, winking at Harry.

Harry flipped through to the notes he had about Draco's selection, "Finnius Pythia and Chandra Aegle."

She seemed to think a moment, as if digging around through her mental notes to find the two of them, "Right, I remember now. And your information on the two... it's enough to finish the paper on time?"

They both nodded.

"Very good, very good." She folded her arms behind her back and made to continue on to the next pair of students to check their progress.

"Oh, and by the way..." She said, turning back and looking directly at Harry, "Good luck tonight," Her eyes shifted to Draco, "Mr. Malfoy."

*****

Chapter Twelve

Slowly, Harry and Hermione wandered down to the pitch, trailing after Ron who was having the conversation of a lifetime with Seamus about some international Quidditch team or other.

Harry had told her about his decision to tell Draco but he was beginning to get cold feet.

Hermione was trying her best to convince him that Draco should know, and that he deserved a chance to be part of this.

Harry had no sooner opened his mouth to object when he felt a strange jolt in his stomach.

He stopped dead, one hand instantly grabbing his stomach.

She too froze and leapt to his side, "Harry, what is it?" She asked worriedly.

Again, he felt it, like something was...

"Kicking..." He whispered, pressing his hand firmly against his stomach.

"What?" She asked.

His eyes were sparkling with excitement as they met hers, "It's kicking."

Her brown eyes widened and she gasped, "It is?"

At that moment, he felt what was probably a very tiny foot nudge the palm of his hand.

"I felt it!" He whispered excitedly.

"Let me feel!" She practically squealed. Luckily no one was anywhere near them as this exchange went on.

Quickly he grabbed her hand and moved it to where his had been and they both waited.

Only a few moments later she squealed again, practically jumping up and down, "Oh my God!" She cried, pressing her hand down again.

But nothing else happened. It appeared these slight movements enough to tire it's small muscles out.

"I think it's done." He said softly.

When their eyes met, Hermione was smiling and her eyes were teary. She quickly threw her arms around him and whispered, "Oh Harry... That was so incredible!"

He closed his eyes and held her against him.

Absolutely incredible.

*****

"Now I want a good clean game," Madam Hooch yelled to all of the players floating above her on their brooms, "Nothing like what I saw the last time you two played."

The warning was well deserved indeed. The last time Ravenclaw had played Slytherin it had turned into a brawl worthy of a muggle basketball team and their fans. All fourteen of the players ended up battling it out on the pitch while the crowd roared around them.

It took nine teachers and four students to break it up.

Without waiting for any sort of affirmation from the players she kicked the box, releasing the struggling bludgers into the air. One of them shot right at Cady Kinneas, one of the Ravenclaw chasers and she had to jolt sideways to miss it.

Unfortunately that sent her into the side of Machivel Greeley, the more vile of the two Slytherin beaters, and he shoved her hard in the opposite direction.

The two glared at each other, but Madam Hooch didn't notice. She had bent down to release the snitch.

It shot up fast and both Draco Malfoy and Kim Kingsly watched it flutter about before shooting out of their line of vision.

Grabbing the quaffle, Madam Hooch tossed it up in the air and with it's downward decent, the game began.

Hunter Shidre grabbed it and took off towards the Ravenclaw goal hoops, tossing it back and forth with Noah Ryder to keep the other chasers at bay.

Within moments, Slytherin was up by ten and on the prowl again.

Ravenclaw had posession, Kinneas stole the quaffle from Shidre and passed it off to Jahn Ninka. Back and forth they went in an imitation of Ryder and Shidre, eventually scoring twice with this method.

As Kinneas was moving in to take her third shot on the Slytherin keeper, a bludger from Greeley cracked into her back and she fell head first from her broom.

The crowd gasped almost in unison as she tumbled forward, calling out to her broom.

But it didn't make it to her in time and she landed flat on her back, unmoving from the ground.

Draco, who happened to be in the general area, laughed as the strawberry-blonde girl shrieked out the charm to summon her broom. He laughed even harder when she smashed into the ground.

The bell-like echo sounded as Slytherin had capitalized on the opportunity and scored again.

"Slytherin ties it up!" Nathanial Incarnati's voice sounded through the pitch.

Draco drifted in and out of the arena, high and low, looking about and keeping his eye trained on Chang. But half an hour later, there was still no sign of the snitch.

Slytherin had scored five more times, Ravenclaw once, making the total score seventy to twenty.

And from there it was like watching paint dry.

The quaffle was passed back and forth between green and blue, but no one scored.

The only highlight came when Leeds Effa, the other Slytherin beater, sent a bludger barreling right into the stomach of Ravenclaw keeper, Ami Enchard.

Over twenty minutes later, Ravenclaw scored.

Twice.

Slytherin, not to be outdone, watched Shayley Urban (their third chaser) and Ryder tie it up and then score again.

Just as the bell echoed with Shayley's next goal and the Slytherin crowd began to cheer, he saw it.

Hovering a good distance above the Gryffindor stands, was the little flicker of gold he needed.

Without a second thought Draco shot off after it, drawing the attention of Chang as well.

She followed, but he had a faster broom and much more distance on her.

But the snitch took off.

He followed it, plowing just over the heads of several Gryffindor's and on down towards the snow covered ground. It seemed to pause for a moment and his hand shot out, swiping for the elusive ball of metal, but it bound back and went over his shoulder.

Cursing, he turned, watching Chang make the same move.

He raced past her, back up and around the Gryffindor's and up into the cloudy sky.

He was sure that the Ravenclaw seeker must be close behind him, but he didn't think about that. His only thoughts were on wrapping his frigid fingers around the little fucking thing.

It began to shoot downwards, losing some of it's momentum as it changed it's course and he grabbed again; his fingers actually brushing one of the rapidly moving wings.

And it was just the break he needed.

As he flew after the snitch, coming back into sight of the pitch below, it faltered, flying crookedly, trying to recover from his touch.

But it couldn't.

His fingers closed around the fidgeting ball and he cried out in victory.

He was close enough at that point for everyone to see his raised hand and the Slytherin's erupted into cheers.

"Draco Malfoy has caught the snitch. Slytherin wins!" Nathanial called out.

The entire Slytherin team swarmed around him, congratulating him.

And as he looked around, cold, and slightly shaking from the adrenaline, but smiling, his eyes caught a flash of brilliant green from the Gryffindor stands.

His smile faltered as his eyes locked with those of Harry Potter.

They stared at one another, neither moving; even as his team mates clapped him on the back.

He watched as Harry exhaled, his breath visible in the frozen air around them.

And ever so slowly, the corners of Harry's mouth turned up and he smiled at Draco.

The pure and genuine look made Draco smile himself, and without thinking about it, he raised the hand that still held the struggling snitch into the air and winked at the Gryffindor.

Of course no one noticed him wink, only that he had given them another issue to cheer. And cheer they did. Even as both teams landed on the ground and quickly made their way into their perspective locker rooms.

No one noticed.

No one, but Harry.

*****

"Good game." Harry said as Draco walked over to him, black gloved hands folded under his arms.

"Thanks." He said, eyes watching his feet carefully move through the snow.

He stopped a couple of feet away from the Gryffindor and looked over at him.

Harry had a black jacket on, not unlike the one that Draco was wearing and his hands were covered with his grey school gloves.

Draco breathed out in a sigh, "So, what do you need?" He asked, shifting to keep the cold at bay.

Beyond them the sun was setting and ominously dark clouds were moving in overhead, threatening snow. It was cold.

Harry was quiet, looking to his left out at the still water of the black looking lake. He breathed out long and deep, "I really don't know where to begin." He said honestly.

Draco didn't say anything for a long time, he just stood there, taking in the way Harry's normally tan face seemed oddly pale. His cheekbones were stained a light pink from the cold and his black hair was mussed, a few flakes of snow trapped within it.

"Draco..." The use of his first name instantly got his attention, but Harry wasn't looking at him, "That night..."

"I thought we were past that." Draco said, moving slightly, keeping his arms tight about him.

Harry turned to him, shaking his head slightly, "We were... but there's still something that needs to be said."

"No, I don't think there is, Harry." Draco sighed, "You need to let it go."

"I can't." Harry said, looking away again, hand briefly touching his stomach, "Not anymore."

"What are you talking about?" He demanded, "What still needs to be said? There is nothing left of that night, but you keep bringing it up."

Harry remained silent, looking at the still water before him, "Something happened that night." He said, rapidly organizing his thoughts.

"What happened?" Draco asked, reaching out and taking the collar of Harry's coat. It wasn't forceful, he was just determined to have the other boy's attention.

Unreadable green eyes met his and he held the gaze.

But Harry said nothing.

He couldn't.

How could he tell this to Draco Malfoy? The person who had been responsible for ruining half of his time at this school.

The person who had given him this child.

Unable to think of how to put what he was feeling and what was happening to him into words, he simply reached for Draco's hand.

To his surprise, it wrapped around his.

His heart rate increased as Draco took a step closer to him.

He could smell the deep endless smell that had invaded his mind and taken him over all those months ago.

His stomach tingled with threatening arousal as Draco's other hand came up to brush against his cheek.

And he was sure that his heart had stopped when he leaned down slowly and pressed his cold lips to Harry's.

The hand that had touched his cheek came up to hold the back of his neck and Harry opened his mouth against Draco's.

A warm tongue slid over his teeth and inside his mouth. He met it with his own and Draco closed the distance between them, their bodies together.

Harry slid his other hand up to grasp Draco's shoulder as they kissed, wanting nothing more than to just drown in his embrace.

But suddenly, his stomach gave a strange jolt and he quickly broke away from him.

Draco, though slightly shocked, still had his hold on Harry's jacket, so he didn't step far.

"What?" He asked.

"I can't." Harry whispered.

Draco's eyes narrowed, "Why not? I thought you wanted this."

"I do." Harry replied instantly, flushing slightly, "But... I just can't."

"Fuck you." He growled, releasing Harry with a slight shove, and turning; he began to walk away, leaving Harry behind.

With only a moment's hesitation, Harry lunged forward and grabbed Draco's hand.

And the moment their eyes met, his confession broke from him, "I'm pregnant."

*****

An eternity seemed to pass.

Draco stood frozen to his spot as Harry's words attacked his mind.

The questions all seemed to come at once.

Pregnant?

With my baby?

My baby?

And his mind seemed to begin to argue with itself.

He's lying! Men don't get pregnant! The logical part yelled.

Some can! It's not impossible! Whatever the fuck the other part of his brain was called defended.

He just wanted to yell at himself to shut the fuck up.

But he couldn't grasp it.

Harry Potter was pregnant with his child?

"Wh... what... what the fuck are you talking about?" He demanded in nothing more than a whisper.

Harry swallowed, "I'm pregnant... it's yours."

Draco shook his head in disbelief, his mouth hanging open, "It's not possible..."

"It is."

Instantly, Draco's eyes filled with anger, "Why the fuck didn't you say anything?!"

Harry seemed slightly taken aback, "About what?"

"About the fact that I could have knocked you up!"

"I didn't know!" He defended, looking around briefly, making sure they were alone and no one could hear this conversation; since Draco was practically yelling.

"Bullshit! How can you not know something like that?!"

Despite everything inside him telling him to be strong, his eyes began to swell with tears, "I didn't even know that it was possible for any guy to get pregnant, how was I supposed to know that I could?!"

"You're full of it." Draco growled, "You don't have that trait, it's only in pureblooded families."

"I'm not making this up!" Harry cried, tears beginning to slip down his cheeks, "You can ask Dumbledore!"

"Well even so, it's not mine." He said with a superior shake of his head.

Harry swiped at his cheeks, "It is!"

Watching as Harry's hand covered his stomach protectively, he pointed an accusing finger at him, "And if you think for one moment that I'll have anything with some fucking thing that some other guy impregnated you with, you have your head further up your ass than I thought."

"You're disgusting." He spat, pulling his coat tighter around him.

Tears were coursing down Harry's cheeks and he looked as though he were about to plead with Draco to stay but couldn't find the words to do so.

And with only the slightest pang of guilt, he turned on his heel and walked as fast as he could away from the now sobbing boy.

*****

Chapter Thirteen

Ron nodded, "We're gonna take care of you."

*****

Two weeks had passed since that night.

Two weeks since Draco had flat out refused to have anything to do with him.

And two weeks since he had been left to deal with his pregnancy without the other father of his child

Harry sighed at the memory, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes.

Things hadn't gotten any easier for him, even though Ron and Hermione had been keeping his mind occupied.

He'd bowed out of the last Quidditch game against Slytherin, claiming to be ill. Luckily Ginny had been willing to take his place.

Truth was, he didn't think he could be anywhere near Draco when he didn't have to be.

Classes were hard enough.

Potions was difficult. All the while Professor Snape lectured, he stared at the back of Draco's blonde head and wondered...

What he thought of Harry. He wondered if Draco really believed he was pregnant. If he believed that it was his. And if he thought that this child was indeed his would he then want to be a part of this?

But he had a feeling that he would never know.

Philosophy class was even harder.

Though it was only three times a week, two of those days he had to spend in the direct company of Draco.

They never spoke. They paid no attention to one another.

Or so Harry thought.

When he was buried to his nose in his part of the report about Chandra Aegle, Draco would look at him through the corner of his eye.

He'd think to himself.

But when the other boy would move and his robes fell out of the way, Draco couldn’t help but notice that Harry's stomach was bigger than usual.

It appeared almost swollen, but nothing he would ever notice just casually looking at him.

But Draco knew better than that.

He'd been told long ago to never allow another man to fuck him.

He too carried the ability to bear children.

Well... he wasn't sure that he did.

The trait had been introduced into the pureblooded families. And the Malfoy family blood was as pure as it got.

Though through so many years of the trait being unused and unneeded, it had been practically evolved out of their bloodline.

But they couldn't be one hundred percent sure.

And the Malfoy's weren't taking any chances.

Another line of bullshit.

Harry was just as damn well likely to be susceptible to gestation as he was. Hell, the only male wizards who weren't were Mudbloods.

Draco groaned inwardly as Harry's hand absently fell to his stomach, his thumb rubbing slowly over it.

Potter was pregnant.

Who knew how many other guys he'd let fuck him. Draco sure as hell didn't have any idea. And he wasn't about to put himself out for some other bastard's kid.

Even if it was his, which he wasn't even allowing himself to entertain the thought, did Potter expect him to just rush to his side and just fall all over himself to help?

It wasn't his damn responsibility.

But deep down, he knew it was.

*****

Ron and Hermione grew more and more concerned for Harry's mental and physical well-being every day.

And they weren't the only ones...

"Harry, please stay after class." Professor Ixion said as the rest of the students began to file out of the classroom.

He sighed and turned to Ron and Hermione, both a few rows behind him and shrugged them on without him.

He somehow failed to notice the odd look Draco was shooting his direction. If he had bothered to look, he would have seen the usually hard grey eyes full of something akin to concern.

Once the room was empty save him and Numina, she beckoned him over to her desk.

Of course, she sat with her legs dangling over the edge, and offered him the chair she had pulled over.

He sat, nerves prickling and his scar slightly burning.

"How've you been?" She asked softly.

He tried to look nonchalant, "Fine."

"How is it?" She asked, eyeing his stomach, "Movement yet?"

This brought a smile to his face. His baby had indeed been active lately. It was as if it had discovered that it could move and now wanted to do it all the time.

Harry didn't mind at all.

"Yeah." He said, looking down to where his hand was resting on the side of his stomach.

She smiled, "Good. Have you thought about names?"

He shook his head, "I'd like to know what it is first."

She nodded, legs swinging, "Professor Dumbledore is looking into a medi-witch. Someone that can be trusted."

Harry looked away.

"You don't have to worry, Harry. We wouldn't take you to someone who we thought was any sort of threat to you. And I'll be with you anyway." She said, still smiling.

This thought calmed him. Having an Auror protecting you really gave you a sense of calm that came with no other person looking out for you.

They remained silent for a short while, until she spoke, "Have you told him?"

He didn't need a name attached to that to know who she meant, "Yeah."

"How did that go?"

His eyes blurred with tears and he angrily bit them back, "He didn't believe me at first. I think I got through to him, but he doesn't think it's his."

Harry tried to shrug it off as if it didn't matter to him.

But it did matter.

It mattered a lot.

She bit her lip in thought, "Would you like me to speak with him?"

His head snapped up, "No!" She raised an eyebrow at his vehement outburst and he flushed, "I mean... if he doesn't want to be part of this I can't make him."

"Yes you can." He looked at her, "Harry, he has a legal obligation to be, at the very least, financially involved."

He shook his head, "I don't need his money."

"I know you don't." She said softly, "But you want his support don't you?"

A very quiet "Yes" was her answer.

She swung her legs, silent again in thought. "Ask him for it."

He snorted derisively, "He already told me to fuck off once."

The moment he realized what he said, his eyes widened and he colored even more.

But she just smiled, "My guess, Harry, is that he's in denial. Wouldn't you be slightly hesitant?"

"Probably." He admitted.

"Give him a little time to come around." She said with a vaguely sad look. "And if he doesn't come around, just leave him to me." She told him, bring her hand up and cracking all of the knuckles at once.

Harry laughed, "Thank you, Professor."

She stood, as did Harry, and she placed her hand on his shoulder, walking him to the stairs, "If you ever need anything, you know where to find me."

He nodded and she patted his back, "Good luck with your Potions test." She winked, "I hear it's a hard one."

"When isn't it?" He asked, mounting the stairs.

She laughed and turned, making her own exit through the door at the bottom of the classroom.

*****

That night, Harry simply could not find sleep.

He tossed and turned, watching the ceiling, the wall, the snow falling outside and the other wall for hours on end.

His tried changing position, but found that if he lay on his stomach, that the baby would kick painfully.

So eventually, he threw back his covers in frustration and sat up, legs hanging off the bed.

"You all right?" A tired voice asked.

Harry jumped and turned to look at Ron.

"You haven't been to sleep yet, have you?" He asked, pushing himself up onto his side and rubbing his eyes.

"No." He shook his head, "It keeps moving."

Ron grinned, "I'm yet to feel that."

"Well it's stopped now, but I'm just not tired." He grumbled. "I can't get comfortable and I'm hungry."

Ron stifled a laugh. That was such a pregnant thing to say.

With a look back at his clock he discovered that it was 4:17 in the morning.

"Well, breakfast isn't for another five hours."

Harry nodded, "I'll be fine." He said, laying back down and pulling his covers back up.

Several silent minutes passed in which Harry felt that he might indeed fall asleep tonight. And the kicking started again.

With a groan, he rolled onto his side facing Ron, who had his eyes closed; trying as well to fall back asleep.

It was quiet again for a while until Harry spoke, "I want a pickle."

Ron snorted and began laughing into his pillow.

Now that was a pregnant thing to say.

He sat up and tossed his covers off, "Come on then." He said, slipping on his shoes, "Let's go to the kitchen and get you a pickle."

Harry grinned, and sat up as well, "Have I told you lately what a good friend you are?"

"There's no need." He whispered as they crept through the room to the door, "I already know."

*****

Chapter Fourteen

The same dreams had been haunting Harry for the past few days.

First there was the one where he would walk through the long hallway filled with an eerie green light and the gold and black framed pictures that yelled at him. On down the stairs and into a chamber filled with Death Eaters where he watched Voldermort torturing Draco.

That dream now seemed, if possible, more realistic than before.

When he awoke, upright in bed and covered in cold sweat, his heart beat more rapidly and he was filled with the Fight or Flight urge.

What was this dream that was tormenting him?

Was it a premonition of future events? Was it his that his dreams were playing on his undeniable need to help those in trouble? Or was it just his mind screwing with him because he was still pining away for Draco?

And then there was the other dream...

This one was far more enjoyable.

It too, was exactly the same every time and happened almost every night.

He would be laying in his bed, asleep, when suddenly, someone was climbing into his bed and crawling on top of him.

When he opened his eyes, he would discover Draco sitting on him, pulling open his night shirt.

He'd gasp out the blonde's name and then he'd kiss him, keeping him as silent as he had that night in the Astronomy Tower.

He tried to stop Draco. He didn't want his roommates to catch him doing something with the Slytherin.

But as his hands traveled more and more wildly over his body, Harry couldn't stop it.

He relented and allowed Draco to rid him of his pajama bottoms and press a trail of kisses down his non-pregnant stomach.

Harry always groaned when Draco took him into his mouth, and when that happened in the dream, he'd wake up in real life.

Always, he was blatantly aroused and felt extremely embarrassed at his reaction to the dream, but he couldn't help it.

He wanted Draco so badly and it just seemed to be getting worse with time.

Laying his head back down on his pillow after awaking from the scarier of the two dreams, he counted in his head the number of days that had passed since he had been impregnated.

Just a little over nineteen weeks. Almost five months.

His hand wandered down to rub his stomach.

He grew worried the other day when he realized that his baby had not been moving.

And in the instant that he first feared that he had miscarried... he knew a fear like nothing he had ever felt before.

It was only a few minutes later, as if his child had sensed his worry, that it began to move around.

Harry had nearly cried with relief.

----

"Have you spoken to Potter?" Professor Snape asked.

"Yes. Briefly." Numina told him as they walked slowly back towards the castle from where they had Apparated into Hogsmeade.

"And?"

She sighed, "He's afraid. You can see it in his eyes."

"I don't doubt it." He said, arms clasping behind his back.

There were a few quiet moments before either spoke again.

"He told Draco." She said quietly.

At this, Snape looked at her, "And what did he have to say?"

She shook her head, "He doesn't believe it's his."

With a slightly dramatic sigh, he looked up into the clear night sky, "He's such an arrogant little bastard."

She laughed, "That he is. But we can't just let him blow Harry off like that." He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, "No pun intended."

He grinned and looked ahead once more, "What do you suggest we do? I can safely assume that you offered to speak to Draco on his behalf?"

"Yeah, but he doesn't want any help. He thinks he can do this by himself."

"He probably can." Snape mused.

She looked at him, silently wondering if the Potions Master had just complimented Harry Potter's ability to stand on his own.

Without speaking about her thoughts, she spoke once more, "Regardless... he can't just sit around while Draco just gallivants off without taking responsibility for what he did."

"'What he did'? You make it sound as though he stole something of Potter's."

"Well he did do something he shouldn't have. He needs to step up and help Harry. Because before you know it, he's going to be having problems that we can't help him with."

He looked at her with slightly narrowed eyes, "Like what?"

She avirted her gaze and looked to the sky as he had, "Just something."

"Something like what?" He asked.

She licked her bottom lip and glanced briefly at him, raising one of her eyebrows, praying she wouldn't have to say it.

But he just stared, uncomprehendingly, at her.

She groaned, "He needs Draco to..." She gestured uselessly with her hands, "Draco can.... give Harry something that we can't."

Still he stared.

Was he that stupid?

No. He probably just wanted her to say it.

"You know what I'm talking about." She glared.

His face cracked and he smirked, looking at her. "I know what you mean. And I agree with you... we're not going to give that to Potter."

Numina snorted and began laughing.

----

Harry couldn't concentrate the following Monday in class.

His hand kept falling to his stomach, pressing to feel the flutter he knew was his child moving about.

Hermione would also reach over and touch it when she knew it was moving. And she delighted in it.

And Draco seemed to notice this.

Not Hermione touching his stomach, but the fact that Harry's hand had seemed to make it's permanent residence there.

He had accepted the fact that Harry was with child, but he hadn't let go of the belief that it was someone elses and Harry was just a slut.

But whenever he thought of Harry like that, his stomach twisted slightly. As if it were trying to tell him, Harry's no slut.

As Draco left the Potions classroom and made for the stairs to take him from the dungeon to the Great Hall for dinner, he heard his name called.

"Mr. Malfoy."

He stopped and turned to find Professor Snape not far behind him.

"Yes, sir?" He asked.

Snape wasn't looking at him, though, as he came to a stop in front of him, "You two..." He gestured to Crabbe and Goyle, "Go."

Though they grumbled about it, they lumbered off up the stairs, leaving Draco and his head of House alone in the hallway.

"Come with me." He said, turning around and walking off.

Draco followed without a second thought, his stomach knotting though at the thought about what he had done.

His mind raced... had he failed the last test? Screwed up royally on his homework? Shit! He didn't have the slightest idea.

His heartrate increased and his palms grew moist.

He followed Snape into his office, he had a foreboding feeling in his chest as the door clicked shut.

"Sit." He said neutrally, walking around to his seat.

Slowly, Draco dropped his bag to the floor and sat down warily.

The professor leaned back into his chair. His elbows perched on the armrests and his fingertips pressed together before him.

Draco swallowed in nervousness as he watched Snape size him up.

His eyes seemed to bore into him and he suddenly felt very vulnerable.

Reaching forward to his desk, Snape picked up a quill pen and began twirling it between his fingers.

Looking off, not at Draco, he began to speak in a voice hinted with amused wonder, "It has come to my attention by way of Professor Dumbledore, Mr. Malfoy, that someone in your class is with child."

Draco's stomach dropped.

"Naturally, I figured it was a young lady who couldn't keep her legs closed." He twisted the pen and Draco swallowed again, "Immagine my surprise when I discovered that it was a young man."

Well, any doubt that Draco had as to Harry's being pregnant was just washed away.

"Immagine, even further, my shock to discover that it was not only a Gryffindor, but Harry Potter."

Draco held his breath as his head of House turned to look at him, his obsidian eyes narrowed ever so slightly, "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

Without thinking about it, Draco nodded.

Professor Snape set the quill back on the desktop and resumed his earlier position with his fingers pressed together in front of him, "Do you have any idea who the father of his child is?" He asked it as a question, but Draco knew that he wasn't really looking for an answer.

Draco looked away, biting the inside of his lower lip.

It couldn't be true.

He couldn't be the father of Harry Potter's child.

He shook his head; to either clear his thoughts or deny it to himself, he didn't know.

"Draco." Snape said, his voice uncommonly soft. He waited until the young Slytherin was looking at him before he continued, "You know that it's you." He continued in the same voice, "You know this."

Though Draco cursed himself for it, his eyes began to fill with tears, "I can't be a father." He said, trying to use his normal voice, but it cracked with his restrained emotion. "I'm too young to have a kid."

Professor Snape sat forward, "Draco... I don't know what caused you to turn to Potter, nor do I want to, but I want you to understand something." The blonde didn't look at him, "You made a decision to act a certain way, and now you have to face the consequences."

Draco just shook his head, "I can't be..." Leaning forward, he covered his face in his hands, trying desperately not to cry.

But he just didn't have it in him to fight. A single tear rolled down his cheek, followed by another and another. Soon, his entire face was damp and his shoulders were shaking slightly.

He jumped at the feel of a hand on his shoulder.

He looked up, quickly wiping his blotchy face on the sleeve of his robes.

"Draco, I know that you're afraid. But you have a responsibility to both Potter and your child."

Draco looked down again, running his hand over his still wet face and up into his hair where it clutched a fist full of the blonde locks. Deep down, he knew that Professor Snape was right. He was right about everything.

But he shook his head, "What am I going to tell my father?"

"Nothing." Snape said instantly, "You can never speak of this to your family. Nor any of your classmates." He looked up again, "If this gets out, your own life is in danger. Needless to say, so are Potter's and your unborn child."

Draco nodded instantly, but without a lot of feeling.

"So... what do I do?" He asked quietly, standing.

"That is up to you." Snape told him, hand still on his shoulder, "You can be mature about this and help him out. Or you can ignore it." Draco looked away in thought and nodded.

"Very well." Professor Snape said, "Go ahead and join your classmates." He gesutred for the door and with one final squeeze of his prize student's shoulder, he turned and walked back around his desk.

Draco stooped and picked up his bag before heading off to the door.

There, he stopped at the sound of Snape's voice, "One more thing, Draco." He turned back, hand on the partially open door, and met his professor's intense eyes, "If indeed, you decide to adapt the Scarlett O'hara mentality, remember... just because you pretend something isn't real... doesn't make it not real."

Draco nodded only once before turning and stepping from the room.

*****

Chapter Fifteen

Unbeknownst to Harry, Draco was now fully aware of his position. And now trying desperately to accept it.

Well, not so much accept it as figure out what the hell he intended to do about it.

Be mature or be Scarlet O'Hara, as Professor Snape had so wonderfully put it.

In other words, he could be a man or be a fucking pussy who ran away from his problems.

Just like his father.

Draco almost snorted at the thought.

Him? Like his father? Please.

He leaned back further into the black leather chair he was sitting in. The common room had other occupants but he was apart from all of them. Thinking.

If there was one thing Draco was not, it was his father.

Sure he shared a lot of his father's views.

He hated Muggles and thought that Mudbloods were the spawn of Satan, and he liked being considered one of the "good guys" about as much as he'd like a five fingered prostate examination.

Picking slowly at the peeling leather on the arm rest, he pulled off small pieces and tossed them into the blazing fire before him where the melted in a bright display.

He sighed and rolled his head back, looking up at the ceiling.

What was he going to do?

He really wasn't one to run away from his problems. He'd made it a point to avoid doing that at all costs.

But he wasn't going to just run to Gryffindor Tower and drop to his knee in a proposal of marriage to Potter either.

He closed his eyes, groaning inwardly.

How could he have been so stupid.

Why did he fuck Potter that night?

Why didn't he just come back here and fuck one of the Slytherins who would have jumped at the chance to be with him?

He should have.

But he didn't.

Why Potter?

What caused him to kiss Harry? What was it that made him even want to do that?

He didn't know and it was driving him mad.

*****

"Alexander the Great," Professor Ixion began, taking her seat on the edge of her desk, "was the greatest conqurer the world has ever seen. We've spoken about him before, but never in the light we're about to examine him in." She waited as her students began to take notes, "It's quite well known that Alexander was a homosexual." A few people in the room giggled. "But it was the social norm for him. He loved his companion, Hephaistion to his death."

She shifted and began to use her hands as she spoke, "Now the thing that is basically unknown about him is that Hephaistion was a wizard. Alexander was not."

This had the desired effect she was looking for as many stared with interest.

"Hephaistion often spoke of the 'trials of death'. Alexander didn't know what he was talking about and Muggle scholars attribute it to the fact that he was constantly faced with his own mortality as Alexander's lover."

She shook her head, "He was talking about immortal life." Many leaned forward as if listening to the greatest secret ever told, "Hephaistion's account of speaking with Alexander was the first written word of the search for immortality."

"Now of course, the search has been going on since the beginning of time, but Hephaistion was the first that had it documented." The sounds of quill scratching could be heard from almost everyone.

"For hundreds of years thereafter the search went on. The Spanish explorer Juan Ponce de León, searched through Florida and Cuba for the Fountain of Youth, which would supposedly bring eternal life to whoever drank the water that flowed from it."

"It's said that drinking the blood of a slain unicorn will grant eternal life but damn the soul. Nicholas Flamel and Paracelsus were both early alchemists who supposedly discovered ways to prolong the human life." Harry found it odd that as she said this she glanced over at himself, Ron and Hermione and smiled.

"But the only one to actually have been said to have succeded in the search for eternal life, was the alchemist Lucan."

Hermione raised her hand, "Yes, Mrs. Granger."

"There's documented proof of Nicholas Flamel living past his 666th birthday." She said.

But Professor Ixion shook her head, "While Mr. Flamel lived a very long and prosperous life, his body would have shut down long before that. Regardless of the help the Scorcers Stone would have given him."

Hermione lowered her hand, flushed slightly and not sure if she had misplaced her trust in Professor Ixion.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Harry?" She asked.

"Why is Lucan said to have been the only one to have found the answer to eternal life?"

She smiled, "Lucan's daughter was murdered because of what he was doing with alchemy. Though distraught he worked on. One night he stole his daughter's body from the cemetery. She hadn't yet decomposed and he injected her with the potion he had created. She rose four days later."

*****

"Harry." Professor Ixion called as he began to climb the stairs towards the top of the classroom.

He nodded, setting down his bag and walking down the steps to her desk where she perched herself on the edge of it.

She looked around before she began, making sure that no one was listening. The only other people still in the classroom were Hermione and Draco. Neither were even looking at them.

None the less, her voice came out in nothing more than a whisper, "I just wanted to let you know that we've discovered a medi-witch for you."

His face seemed to brighten slightly and his hand went to his stomach.

The move was not lost on a certain blonde who now stared intently at Harry.

"Thank you." He said back quietly, "When will I be going?"

"Early next month. I will be escorting you along with Professor Lupin."

He nodded and she smiled, placing her hand on his shoulder, "Don't worry about anything. I assure you it's safe."

"I don't doubt it. But..." He trailed off with a slight shrug.

"It's understandable." She said then lowered her voice to a whisper once more as more students filled the classroom, "First time parents are always nervous."

A sudden thought struck him and he didn't realize he had spoken until after it happened, "Do you have children?" She looked slightly bewildered by his question and he flushed, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

But she interupted him with a smile, "I did."

"Did?" He asked quietly.

"He died." She said, eyes tinted with sadness.

"I'm sorry." He said.

She shook her head, her smile returning she winked at him, "Don't be. After all, we all come back, don't we?"

*****

Chapter Sixteen

"We've got it in the bag!" Ron Weasley said almost fiercely as he spoke to Harry about their upcoming match against Ravenclaw. "Half of their team is out, they're going to have to use those second stringers of theirs. They have no chance!"

Luckily no Ravenclaw was near them as this conversation took place.

Harry just shook his head. Having played longer for the Gryffindor team than Ron had, he tried to help Ron keep his head about him.

"Ron, nothing is for sure. They could come out and kick our asses."

"Which wouldn't be too hard." Draco Malfoy sneered as he dropped gracefully into his seat just behind Harry.

No one could really figure out why the Slytherin had chosen to sit directly behind the Boy Who Lived, but that was just the way it had been since their First year. And remained so.

Goyle, beside him, laughed out his approval and dropped into his chair with none of the grace that Draco held.

Beyond them, the other Slytherins laughed as well.

"What a waste of time last Saturday was." Draco continued on, crossing his arms over his chest and smirking evilly, "Got your asses handed to you by Hufflepuff, wasn't it?" He shook his head and tisked at Harry, "Only ten minutes in too. What a shame Golden Boy, you seem to be losing your glow."

"Fuck you, Malfoy." Ron hissed, using every ounce of will power he possessed in order to restrain himself from leaping over the desk and beating the shit out of the royal Slytherin asshole. Ever since Harry had stopped him from storming out of the common room that night, he had been looking for an excuse to launch himself at Malfoy.

The blonde arched a sculpted eyebrow, "Didn't know you swung that way, Weasel." Ron instantly flushed and Draco leaned forward, sarcasm dripped from his mock concern for the redhead's feelings, "Sorry, you're not really my type."

Ron's eyes narrowed and he moved as though he were about to stand up, but Harry grabbed his arm, "Ron, don't. He's not worth it." He turned and glared directly at Draco, "He's not worth anything."

No one noticed how Harry's eyes stayed locked on the icy blue-grey ones for a few extra moments.

And no one, not even Harry, took notice of how Draco's eyes hardened at the last comment.

Before anyone had the chance to say anything more, Professor McGonnagal came sweeping down the aisle and class began.

-----

At dinner that night, Draco couldn't seem to really give a shit about eating.

Although he tried to stop his wandering eyes, there was just no way to do so.

It was as if they were trained on a certain Gryffindor and there was simply no where else for him to look.

He watched, across the table, as Harry filled his plate twice and cleaned it.

He would have smiled at the thought of why he was doing it, but another certain Gryffindor was ruining it for him.

The Mudblood kept giggling every time Potter reached for something.

He almost could have sworn that she had a flirtatious look in her eye as she stared at him.

Draco's own eyes narrowed as he watched her hand disappear under the table.

Harry's eyes widened slightly then he smiled, turning to look at her.

Just what the fuck was she doing?!

When she began to giggle again, he sneered at no one in particular. But mainly at himself.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Since when did he give a flying fuck who touched Harry? When did he start to give a flying fuck about the way they looked at him? Or, for God's sake, about the boy's eating habits?

Draco hissed in his head and dropped his gaze, just missing Harry's green eyes looking over at him.

Zabini was rambling on about something or another and Draco felt the urge to punch the boy in the mouth.

No real reason. He just wanted to hit someone.

And since he couldn't hit the Mudblood (no, Draco Malfoy would not strike a woman) and he couldn't rightly strike Potter, that left his own Housemates to bear his moody wrath.

He started out with a nice, "Why don't you shut your fucking mouth." To a startled looking Blaise, and ended up going around to the entire group of those who he professed "friendship" with.

Right now, though, he'd sooner gouge out their eyes then be anywhere near them.

The table around him fell relatively silent as they realized that Draco wanted to be left alone.

No one knew why, but no one asked.

Just like no one asked his father when things were bothering him.

Draco's upper lip lifted slightly, snarling in his mind at comparing himself to that bastard.

Without realizing it, his fingers lifted to brush against the indented scar in his lip from where his father had struck him.

As he was still glaring down at his plate with unfocused blue-grey eyes, he didn't see Harry watching him as his fingertips ran over the spot a few times.

Instead of thinking on his father he turned his mind to Potter.

Not exactly a welcome subject, but better than Lucius.

He still had no idea what he was going to do about the child growing within Harry.

The child that was the next generation of Malfoy children.

He almost asked "What?" out loud, but restrained himself. That damn voice in his head broke in quite a bit recently.

He had the damning feeling that it was his conscience.

Fuck off. He mentally hissed.

Luckily it was silent after that.

Slowly, his eyes drew up to watch Harry again, almost without realizing he was doing it.

Another wave of... (what was that?) washed over him as he watched Granger touching Harry's arm again.

He almost wanted to leap over the table and knock her away from Potter.

Lucky for her, he was a gentleman.

Sighing inwardly, he pulled his eyes and thoughts away from the Gryffindor's and back to the table at which he sat.

He pushed the food around on his plate for a while, taking a few bites and draining his goblet twice before finally excusing himself with an exaggerated sigh.

As he stood, Pansy offered to go with him, but he shut her right down.

About that same time, Harry and Ron excused themselves from the Gryffindor table as well.

They weren't the only students leaving and they weren't the only students in the Entrance Hall, but they were the only three who literally ran into each other.

"Watch where you're fucking going." Draco said, shoving Harry away from him.

Before any of them knew what was happening, Ron had grabbed Malfoy by the collar of his robes and had him thrown against the wall.

Draco's eyes widened before he could stop it, "Get the fuck off me." He growled.

Harry was at Ron's side, pulling at his arm as several other students gathered around at a safe distance.

"I don't know what the fuck your deal is, but you better back off." Ron hissed. His voice dropped to a fierce whisper, "I don't care if you are the guy who knocked up my friend, I won't hesitate to kick your bloody ass all the way back to Death Eater Youth Camp."

Draco leaned in close, "You better watch who your mouth." both of his hands came up to fist in Ron's robes, bringing the redhead within biting distance, "Or you just might wind up in a gutter somewhere."

Ron glared, "You can threaten me all you like, but you stay the hell off Harry." And with a final shove, he allowed Harry to pull him off the Slytherin.

The students around them began to dissipate as Draco straightened his robes and smoothed down his hair, "Didn't realize you had body guards." Draco sneered.

"I'm not a bodyguard. I'm someone who's watching out for him."

Draco's eyes narrowed, stepping close again to Ron. He vaguely felt Harry's hand on his chest, keeping him at bay, but he ignored it, "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean it's your fucking job. But we all know how loyal you are. Big bad Slytherin, can't even watch out for himself, let alone anyone else."

"Oh and just what are you insinuating? That I should drop everything and run to Potter's rescue." He allowed his eyes to travel to Harry, "Take care of him?" He turned back to Ron, "In your dreams."

And without so much as a backwards glance, he turned, smoothed out his robes and stalked off towards the dungeons.

----

"I'm sorry for last night." Ron said, sitting down on his freshly made bed the next morning.

"Ron, don't even think about it." Harry said, tossing his pillow to the head of his own bed, "It's no big deal."

Ron stood, "But it is a big deal." Harry didn't look at him, "He's supposed to be helping you. He's supposed to be there for you and he's not."

"And just what should I do about that?" He asked, looking at Ron, "Hm? Run off and tell his daddy?"

"No, I just-"

"Ron, I appreciate everything you're doing for me and everything that you're still doing for me, but..." He sighed, shrugging and allowing his hands to rest on his stomach, staring down at the slightly larger bulge, "He doesn't want to help me."

Ron tired to burst in, but with a tone that left no room for argument, Harry spoke finally, "Let it go."

-----

The following Saturday the Gryffindor's held a mid-morning practice.

A few dozen students had come out to watch, a couple from other houses, but mainly just Gryffindor fans.

There was a scrimmage of sorts, but not completely possible with just seven people out on the pitch.

An hour or so later, Harry had been coasting about, done with his personal drills, and watching his teammates play, when suddenly something caught his eye.

Down, outside of the pitch itself, stood a tall platinum blonde boy with his arms crossed and looking up at him.

Harry's heart clenched painfully in his chest as he watched Draco watch him. And he stayed in the sky, motionless, for a few moments before he descended from the air and headed into the locker room.

Without changing, he dropped his broom and practically stormed out and around to where he knew Draco was standing.

The blonde didn't move. Didn't even look over at him as Harry stalked over to him, "What are you doing here?"

"Watching your shitty team practice." He said smoothly.

Harry grabbed his shoulder and forced Draco around to look at him. His arm was instantly knocked away, "Don't touch me."

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Harry demanded, his eyes angry.

Draco just stared at him for a long time, not moving and not speaking. He hardly even blinked.

After a while, he re-crossed his arms and let out a long visible breath before speaking with deadly clarity, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Harry's head pulled back and his brow furrowed in confusion, "What?"

Draco took a step closer and Harry took one back out of reflex; but he was held in place when Draco took another one, by a hand on his collar, "What the fuck do you think you're doing, still playing?"

Harry's eyes narrowed instantly and now he knocked Draco's hand away, "So now you care."

"Don't undermine me."

"Don't treat me like a child!" Harry spat back.

"I'll treat you like a child when you deserve it. And right now, you do." He threw his arm up, gesturing towards the pitch, "Are you really that fucking arrogant? Do you think the bludgers are going to avoid you just because you got yourself pregnant?"

"'Got myself pregnant'?!" Harry almost gasped out, "You think you had nothing to do with this? What the fuck am I? The Virgin Mary?! This wasn't an Immaculate Conception, Draco! This happened because your dick was in my ass!"

Had Draco not been so utterly pissed off, he would have checked to make sure no one was around to have heard that.

He quickly grabbed Harry up by his robes, startling the smaller boy, "Grow up, Potter," He hissed, "Think about someone else for a change." Harry snorted at the sheer irony of what the blonde was saying, but Draco only pulled him in tighter, "You've got bigger things to worry about now." Harry's heart began to beat faster as Draco shook him with every word he spoke.

"Just one wrong hit, one wrong move and you're going to lose everything!" The furious blonde continued to hiss, "If you fuck this up I'll-"

"You'll what?" Harry ground out, trying to push Draco away from him, "Since when do you give a shit about what I do? About this baby, your baby?"

Finally, he shoved Draco's angry, deflated and almost hurt looking self away from him, "Don't come near me again. Or I won't stop Ron next time he wants to kick the shit out of you."

With that, he turned and began stomping through the snow and back towards the locker room.

"I want you to stop playing." Draco's voice called to him, not angry, but unreadable.

It halted Harry in his steps.

Slowly he turned back and looked across the short but sizeable distance between himself and Draco; which the Slytherin was closing steadily, arms crossed still.

"What?"

"I want you to quit."

Harry shook his head, trying to fire back at Draco, but froze as slender but strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him close.

Ever nerve in his body was alert, but he did nothing to stop the blonde as he lowered his mouth to press a long and chaste kiss onto his lips.

Neither moved, and Harry's eyes opened slowly afterward to meet the icy ones before him.

And after a moment, he took hold of Draco's arms and removed them from his body and whispered, "Fuck you." Before turning and walking into the locker room, leaving Draco cold and alone in the frigid air.

*****

Chapter Seventeen

From the very beginning, Hermione had been supportive of Harry's pregnancy.

Never once was she negative about it, nor was she ever upset about finding out one of her best friends was gay.

The way she saw it, was if he wasn't at the point of being comfortable enough to tell herself and Ron, then it was fine.

She'd been more than excited to learn that she would be playing the role of Aunt to her friend's child. And couldn't have been happier.

The first time she felt it move was one of the most incredible of her life.

Just to feel what she knew was a child to one day be walking around and calling Harry "Daddy" was enough to make her squeal.

And just the other evening at dinner, she had dropped her hand below the table to just touch his stomach. Harry had grinned back sheepishly, not quite sure what to do with this sort of attention.

But he allowed her to turn into a total girl whenever the baby moved, and let her fawn over his stomach.

She'd even taken to reading anything she could find about male pregnancy. Which wasn't a lot, considering that a child born of a male hadn't happened in centuries.

From what she could gather, Harry had moved beyond morning sickness and most of the strange food cravings. Besides wanting to devour dozens of toasted peanut butter and pickle sandwiches a day.

And he was long past due for the next set of urges...

-----

Little did Hermione know that Harry had been in control of those urges for two weeks now.

He had an idea that it was a side-effect of his pregnancy, but there was really nothing he could do about it.

He couldn't go to Madam Pomfrey and there was no way he was going to ask Professor Ixion if what was happening was normal.

So he just lived with it.

-----

"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione asked, looking up at him from her Potions notebook.

Harry had removed his glasses and had his hand fisted in his hair.

Ron looked over at him and his voice came out as nothing but a whisper that even Harry had to strain to hear, "Is it the baby?"

Harry shook his head, "No.. It's fine. I think."

"Well, Harry if you're not sure, you should go to Professor Ixion." She said.

He shook his head vigorously, "No, I'm good. Really."

She studied him even as he replaced his glasses and sighed heavily, looking back to his own notes.

He could still feel Ron's eyes on him.

Trying his best to ignore them, he pretended to read, when in all actuality, he couldn't even breath properly.

He shifted slightly and Hermione spoke, leaning in closer across the table, "Harry, what is it?"

"I don't think you wanna know." He said in a strained whisper.

"I think I already do." His eyes widened slightly and he stared at her, "Just tell me."

He shook his head, "I'm fine, really-"

"Tell me, Harry."

Groaning, he watched as Ron leaned in closer to hear and he just wished that the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

How the hell was he going to tell them that he was hornier than he'd ever been in his life?

All he could think about was fucking, he had day dreams about it and was almost constantly fighting off an erection.

And it wasn't even just about sex.

It was all about Draco.

He drempt about him. Thought about the night they spent together and the two times they'd kissed since then.

He wanted the blonde so badly that it hurt.

He ached for some sort of relief and self gratification provided little to none.

"Just never mind you guys." Harry said, deciding that he couldn't just burst out with the statement that he was "fucking horny".

"If you want to talk about it Harry, we're here." She said. And he got the feeling that she really did know.

He dropped her gaze, back to his notes, "Anytime, mate." Ron agreed.

Smiling weakly at Ron, the three of them returned to studying.

-----

Harry wasn't exactly looking forward to playing another quidditch match so soon after the Ravenclaw one but three days previous.

But due to the fact that they won, he was feeling more confident in his ability to preform while pregnant.

Professor Ixion had approached him with her concerns about him playing, as had Professor Dumbledore, but he insisted on continuing on.

Both professors knew that should he just suddenly quit that it would raise eyebrows and quite a few questions that they didn't want to answer.

So he was allowed to play.

They had taken to the sky in mid afternoon.

It wasn't as cold as it had been, as if the change from January to February actually had some sort of positive effect on the weather.

A simple placebo that works wonders.

Think it and it will become so.

The sun was darkened by clouds which toned down the reflective light from the snow sitting on the ground but also took the heat down a notch from it's boiling perch of twenty-four degrees.

To the Slytherin seeker, it felt more like negative twenty-four.

And if there was one thing Draco Malfoy hated it was playing quidditch against his least favorite team in less than favorable weather.

He avoided Harry at all costs, trying to focus on finding the little gold ball before the Gryffindor could.

But it had been a half hour with no luck.

Slytherin was up by thirty, but Gryffindor was on the move and Draco knew he'd have to catch the snitch soon or else they were in major danger of losing.

He saw a burst of speed from his left and almost took off, but he realized it was just Potter swinging to avoid a bludger.

His eyes narrowed.

The stupid prick shouldn't even be on his fucking broom.

Why the hell hadn't the brunette listened to him?

He knew fucking everything, and most importantly he knew Harry.

Deep down he knew why he hadn't listened to him, but he ignored it.

It was because he was too stubborn to admit that Draco was right.

Something that the blonde usually did himself, but this time Harry wasn't only putting his own life on the line, but the child within him's life as well.

And it was pissing Draco off.

The kid was half his, after all.

Who did Potter think he was?

As he sat on his broom, drifting about the stands, the game waged below him.

One of the Gryffindor beaters had taken out Machivel Greeley and a small war had broken out towards the Slytherin goal hoops.

Draco ignored it.

He'd gotten in enough trouble the last time he'd fought on the pitch with that stupid asshole, Jahn Ninka.

So what if the pansy-ass couldn't fight? Was it really his fault that he beat the shit out of him?

Of course, Dumbledore had only punished him for his part in the fight.

But Draco had the last laugh.

His knuckles may have been bloody, but Ninka spent the next week in the infirmary growing back most of his adult teeth.

A smirk crossed his face as he remembered the horrified look on the other teen's face as he spat out two of his teeth.

Just as that thought flashed through his mind, his peripheral vision picked up on the other seeker taking off.

He followed, spying the glittering ball hovering over the heads of the Hufflepuff fans.

If he could get close enough, he should be able to kick a few of them.

He laughed inwardly, but continued on.

The snitch shot off towards the Gryffindor goal hoops.

Draco pulled out ahead of Harry, reaching his hand out.

And just as he thought he would grab it, Harry slammed into his side, knocking him from his path.

Draco growled and pushed back against him.

The two made eye contact and just like that, the snitch was gone.

"Look what you fucking did! I could have ended this damned game!" Draco hissed, facing off with Harry.

The Gryffindor didn't back down, "You should have kept the fuck away! I almost had it!"

Draco sneered, "In your dreams."

The two continued yelling at one another, drawing most of the attention of the crowd, but the two were oblivious to everything else.

And unfortunately, they were oblivious of the loud cracking noise as Leeds Effa sent a bludger barreling right at Harry.

There was no time for him to react.

No time to move.

Draco saw Harry's eyes widen the moment it made impact, but hadn't been facing the direction from which it came or else he would he shoved Harry out of the way.

But nothing could have been done.

It seemed to happen in slow motion as Harry's hands released his broom and his arms wound around his stomach.

Draco's own eyes widened in horror as he realized that Effa's bludger could not have struck more dead center in Harry's stomach if he had tried.

Without realizing it, he threw his arm out, grabbing for Harry as he fell backwards from his broom.

But he was too late.

Eyes wide with terror, he sucked in a frigid breath as Harry fell faster than what seemed possible to the snowy ground below.

Draco sat, frozen in mid-air as he watched Harry with the eyes of a hawk.

But he didn't move.

He just laid there.

*****

Chapter Eightteen

Harry was unconscious before he hit the ground, but he heard and felt many things in the hours that followed his fall.

Frantic voices.

Panicked words.

Hands grabbing him.

Fingers digging into his stomach.

Blood in his mouth.

Tears on his cheeks.

"..it all right?"

The cries of a frightened child filled his head.

The whisper of a name.

Scenes flashed.

A dark haired woman.

Draco's arm bared, crying out in pain.

'She's a traitor', His mind voice called.

He felt himself die.

And he felt himself rise from the dead.

But most importantly, and most frighteningly, was what he felt, or no longer felt within him...

The warmth that once emanated from his stomach... the warmth that he had been able to identify as his growing child... was gone.

-----

"Hey! Hey, Hermione! I think he's coming out of it!"

Harry groaned softly, even the slight noise hurt his head.

But Ron's yelling was doing worse.

He opened his eyes and closed them quickly. It may have been night time, but it was still far too bright for eyes that hadn't been opened in... he wasn't sure how long.

When he tried to sit up, gentle hands held him down, "Don't sit up."

"Here." Ron said, handing him his glasses.

He slipped them on and then laid his head back down on the pillow, his head throbbing as he did so.

"What happened?" He asked before clearing his throat.

Hermione quickly handed him a glass of water and he drank it down, "Leeds Effa knocked you off your broom." He looked up at her as best he could. She quickly sat so he could see her better, "He knocked a bludger at you."

He would have snorted had he thought that it wouldn't have hurt his head further, "I have no luck with those things."

He heard Ron laugh very softly and then take his hand.

Slowly, he looked down and tightened his fingers around Ron's, "You scared the hell out of us." He said quietly.

"How long have I been out of it?"

"Four days."

"Shit." He groaned.

Hermione reached over and placed her hand on top of Ron's, "Harry, there's something... you have to know..." She whispered.

His eyes opened and traveled to hers, "What?"

And somehow he already knew.

Even as his free hand ran down to his stomach and felt the lack of heat there.

"The baby..."

Harry's breath escaped him in a rush as he closed his eyes and clenched his hand around Ron's. He swallowed, "Please don't tell me that..."

He heard her sniff but his eyes were already filling with tears, "I'm sorry Harry..."

Breathing in deeply, the air seemed to burn his lungs as he tried to fight the hot tears that now scorched his eyes and ran down his cheeks, "I'm so sorry Harry..."

-----

"How is he?" Professor Snape asked as Numina walked from the infirmary to where he was standing in the hallway.

She simply shook her head.

He sighed, "I cannot believe we allowed him to continue playing."

He thought he saw her wipe her eyes, but said nothing about it, "Does Draco know?"

"No." He said quietly as they walked slowly though the hall.

"When are we going to tell him?"

He sighed and folded his hands behind his back, looking up slightly at the high ceiling, "I don't know."

"He hasn't asked about it?"

A shake of the head, "I think he's afraid to ask." He looked over at her, "But he suspects it."

"How could he not." She almost whispered.

They walked on in silence, not really heading anywhere, for a long time.

"You're still bringing in that medi-witch?"

She nodded, "Someone has to... get rid of it."

-----

Harry had laid in almost silence since the moment he had been told about the death of his unborn child.

Three days of not moving and not speaking.

Madam Pomfrey fussed over him.

Hermione and Ron tried to get him to cheer up.

Professor Ixion had visited him, sitting in the chair by his bedside, talking softly to him.

Vaguely he saw Professor Snape standing far behind her with his arms folded in front of him.

Ginny, Seamus, Neville, even Professor Dumbledore had come to see him.

But nothing ever changed.

Nothing could possibly make him feel better.

Even as Leeds Effa came to see him.

He apologized, but of course, had no idea what he had done to Harry. There was no way for him to have known, and Harry silently forgave him.

But they all left with the same result, a quiet Harry and the heavy feeling of being able to do nothing to help him.

-----

"Harry?"

Without looking, he knew that it was Professor Ixion.

She walked around to where he could see her. Following the professor was a woman of about equal height to her, if but an inch or so shorter, with dark blonde hair. He'd never seen her before.

He just looked up at Ixion without speaking.

He hadn't said a word in days.

Why start now?

She sat down facing him and gestured to the other woman to do so as well.

"Harry, this is Jennifer Webb. She's the medi-witch we located for you."

His eyes merely flicked over to her, "It's nice to meet you, Harry. Even under these regrettable circumstances."

He wanted to tell her to fuck off, but restrained.

Professor Ixion placed her hand on Harry's and he pulled his away, "She's here to... remove the baby."

Harry swallowed and closed his eyes, "Fine." He whispered, hardly audible.

Doctor Webb stood, "Please lay on your back."

He took a moment before obeying, rolling over slowly.

"This shouldn't hurt." She said pushing his shirt up to bare his stomach.

"'Shouldn't'?" Ixion asked.

Webb turned to her, "This procedure has only been done on women who've miscarried." She whispered back, as if to save Harry from the reality of knowing what had happened to him.

He just closed his eyes as he felt her hands on his stomach, wanting to flinch away from the touch.

But he remained still, allowing the alien hands as her fingers became hot.

He could literally feel the moment her magic began to seep into his stomach. He groaned at the sudden uncomfortable feeling.

Professor Ixion watched as Doctor Webb's eyes shut, making a connection with Harry's and the lifeless body within it.

There was an intense silence as they waited.

Suddenly, Doctor Webb's hands burned hotly and Harry cried out at the intense heat.

She instantly pulled back, gasping slightly as if she had just run a great distance and staring at Harry's still swollen stomach.

"What is it?" Ixion asked as Harry propped himself up on his elbows.

The doctor's head turned to look at her, "That baby's not dead."

Harry's eyes widened, "What?" He asked in a breathless whisper.

"It's alive." She said, now grinning back at Harry who looked as though someone had just slapped him.

"Alive?" Ixion gasped, "How?"

Doctor Webb looked back at Harry, grin firmly in place, "Someone protected it."

"Who?" He asked in the same whisper.

Her eyebrows raised as her shoulders did, "I don't know. But it's alive, kind of like in hyper sleep of something. It just needs someone to awaken it."

"You can do this?" Ixion asked.

The doctor nodded proudly and replaced her hands on Harry's stomach.

The intense heat of her hands caused him to shut his eyes again in pain, but he didn't voice any discontent. He didn't voice anything.

When her hands pulled away and the heat ceased, Harry waited, trying desperately to feel the broken connection between himself and his child.

And as if on cue, he felt a nudge against his stomach from the inside.

Kicking.

His eyes filled with tears and his hand pressed down on his once flat stomach to feel it again.

His baby was kicking.

It was alive.

A smile broke free onto his face and he allowed his tears to leak free, uncaring of whoever saw.

Professor Ixion touched his free hand and he grasped it.

His eyes shot open, "Thank you." He said in a shaky voice, "Thank you so much."

She smiled softly, "Don't thank me. Thank whoever gave you that magic." She said, inclining her head forward.

A small foot, he guessed, pushed against his hand and he leaned his head back down onto the pillow, releasing Ixion's hand and pressing it into his stomach as well.

The heat was back.

His baby was alive.

He couldn't fucking believe it.

"Would you like to know the sex?"

His eyes opened, "What?" He asked.

"The sex. Of the baby." She gestured to his stomach.

Professor Ixion looked over at her and then down at him, smile on her face as well.

"No." He said softly, looking down at his hands, "I want to be surprised."

She laughed, "Makes picking out baby clothes an adventure."

He looked back up at her, "I love an adventure."

She grinned again and patted the back of his hand, "Take care of yourself now. And no more quidditch!" She wagged her finger at him.

He just smiled, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She said back honestly.

Patting his hand once more, she stepped around his bed and began to leave the room.

He smiled at Professor Ixion who squeezed his hand and ruffled his hair, "I'll be back in a little while, okay?"

He nodded and resumed feeling his stomach and the gentle pushes from within.

-----

"What do you mean 'someone protected it'?" Professor Snape asked as he watched Numina walk over in front of the fireplace in his room; later that night.

She didn't look back at him but watched the flames lick and flit within the hearth, "She told Harry that someone had protected it."

"Well she must have explained it further to you, at least." He said walking around her and dropping gracefully into a black leather chair near the fire.

Slowly she turned and sat in one beside him, still looking into the fire, "She said that the magic was unintentional." She arched an eyebrow as she looked over at him.

He snorted and looked away briefly, "That doesn't sound at all familiar."

She shook her head, "Oh it gets better. I asked her what she meant. Well apparently whoever cast the spell didn't realize they were doing it."

"How so?"

"It was an act of love." She said looking at him.

He stood, "Jesus Christ."

"Well it's obvious that... he doesn't have anything to do with it." She said, drumming her fingers on the armrests of the chair.

He shook his head and turned around to face her, "He might have a lot more to do with it than you think."

She rose from the chair and stood before him now, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I think Draco cast it."

"Well of course he did!" She practically yelled, throwing her hands about in exasperation. "Who the hell else would have done it?"

He rolled his eyes, "Will you listen to me for a second?" With a great sigh, she placed her hands on her hips and stared at him, waiting. "Draco's parents are Death Eaters-"

"No shit."

"He's in line to become one as well."

"I know that."

"Yeah, but do you know that he doesn't want to be one?"

This stopped her briefly. She took a moment before responding, "I don't believe that. He's a selfish little brat who knows more Dark spells than I do."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Oh but I'm afraid it means everything." She stepped closer to him, her voice lowering drastically to almost a hiss, "I inspected the magic myself." He watched her closely, "It's Dark."

-----

Harry lay awake long after everyone had left him.

Long after he had found out that his child was alive and well.

Just laying there in the darkness of the infirmary with one hand behind his head and the other resting on his stomach. Smiling softly and thinking.

He was just about to drift off when he suddenly became aware of another presence in the room with him.

He pushed himself up and looked towards the door.

There, outlined in shadow, was a dark figure.

Dark, save his hair, which appeared white in the lack of light.

"Draco?" He asked softly.

The other person just continued to approach him slowly, hands crossed in the defensive manor that Harry had come to associate with the Malfoy.

He didn't speak. He just walked over towards the bed and stood close, but still at a distance.

Harry reached for the light, "Don't." He said quietly.

His hand dropped, "Why?"

"It'll attract attention." He gestured vaguely back towards the door, "I'm out past curfew."

Harry glanced at the clock on his night stand. Half past three. "Yeah, I'd say so."

Draco seemed to be biting his lips, almost in a state of concentration. He took his time collecting his thoughts before he spoke, "How is it?" He nodded his head forward at Harry's stomach.

He looked down, rubbing his thumb across the small bulge, "Fine." He whispered.

"I..." He stopped, bringing his lips in again to assault them with his perfect teeth, "From the way you were... laying there... I thought maybe..."

Harry waved it off, "It's fine. Professor Ixion brought in a medi-witch to take a look-"

"Ixion?" Draco interrupted him, his voice louder and tinted with a bit of confusion, "Ixion knows about this?"

Harry's eyes narrowed just slightly, "Yeah. She's been helping me."

"What the fuck is the matter with you?" Draco hissed, unfolding his arms and clamping his hands down on the side of Harry's bed, "If word gets out about this, that baby is as good as fucking dead."

"Since when do you care?" Harry growled indignantly.

"Since when did you develop a lack of respect for human life?"

Harry forced himself up and tried to swing his legs over the side of the bed, intent on facing Draco, but the blonde grabbed him.

Harry froze instantly, one foot on the cold floor, the other dangling above it, and no longer fully on the bed. Draco was basically supporting him in his place.

"I don't need you to tell me what to do." Harry whispered, silently damning himself for it.

Draco, without another word, turned his head and caught Harry's mouth with his own.

He moaned throatily, surprising the blonde by grabbing onto him tightly and pulling him closer.

But before Draco allowed anything further to happen, he pushed Harry back down onto the bed.

"You're going to quit." He said, re-crossing his arms and beginning to walk back towards the door.

"You're wrong." Harry said, ignoring the throbbing heat below his waist.

"Excuse me?" Draco said with a snooty tone.

Harry slid off the bed and walked slowly around to face Draco. And he didn't fail to see the blonde's quick look down.

"I'm not going to quit." Draco rolled his eyes and sucked in a breath to tell Harry exactly what he needed to do and why, but Harry stopped him, "It was a minor setback."

"A 'setback'?" You could have died." He stated.

"Thanks for the update. I was there." Harry snapped.

Draco rolled his eyes again, "You're obviously not looking out for yourself or that kid. Why do you expect me to?"

"What?" Harry whispered.

"Don't think I don't notice how you're always looking at me. The way you're always staring at me when you don't think I'm looking." Suddenly his hand reached down and cupped the hard bulge between Harry's legs. The brunette moaned before he could stop it. "Or this." Draco whispered.

"Why do you... do this... to me?" He rasped out, Draco's hand rubbing slowly up and down.

He closed his eyes, trying to will back his strength to push the Slytherin away, but he couldn't. He was so fucking horny.

Draco reached out with his other hand and pulled Harry's head close to his, their foreheads touching.

"Because I can." Draco whispered back.

Harry didn't have the ability to tell him to fuck off. Not as that wonderful hand slid up his stomach and down into his pajama bottoms; wrapping those cold fingers around the hard heat of his erection.

He gasped and moaned, hands grabbing onto Draco's neck.

The blonde didn't move, other than his hand in Harry's bottoms. And he allowed, with pacitivity, the other boy to kiss him.

He sped up his strokes, tightening his fingers and rubbing harder.

Harry's knees buckled and Draco's arm wound around his waist, making sure he stayed on his feet.

Harry's mouth disconnected from his and he groaned, gasping slightly into Draco's neck as his climax approached.

Draco shut his eyes and held onto Harry. Feeling the other boy's hard flesh in his hand was making him unbearably hard. Touching Harry was incredible...

He didn't get to finish that thought as the beginning of a very loud moan began to slip from his lips.

Draco quickly covered the Gryffindor's mouth with his own. Harry clung to him as his orgasm rushed through him, feeling for the first time in weeks, some lessening to the sexual tension that had built up in his body.

When he opened his eyes again, Draco had him sitting back on the edge of his bed and was cleaning off his hand.

He didn't know what to say.

He had no idea how to interpret the messages Draco was sending him.

One moment he was pissed off at Harry and yelling his head off and then the next he was kissing him and jerking him off.

So he just decided to ignore the messages altogether for a moment.

He took Draco's cleaned hand in his own and the cool blue eyes met his. They were unreadable.

Draco swallowed and seemed to think about what he wanted to say for a moment before he spoke, "Quit." Harry instantly opened his mouth to object, but it was covered by Draco's. Before he could even begin to respond to the kiss, Draco had pulled back and was starting to walk away, "And I'll make it up to you."

*****

Chapter Nineteen

If only for the sake of pissing off Draco, Harry returned to the Quidditch Pitch two days later.

Draco could only sit in the stands and watch, arms folded and glaring up at him, as the person carrying his child soared carelessly around on a broom.

Every time a bludger was struck, he could feel his heart rate increase.

Harry moved about dangerously, seemingly only to get Draco back for the humiliation he had suffered in the infirmary.

And the only moment that Draco found any solace in the game, was that when Harry caught the snitch and returned to the ground safely.

He breathed a sigh of relief and got up instantly, leaving before Harry could look for him among the Slytherins.

When Harry did look, he found himself frowning at the fact that he couldn't even see Draco's retreating back as he headed for the stairs to take him out of the silver and green crowd.

He thought that getting back on his broom would have made him feel at least a little better about having become so weak within Draco's arms a few days ago. But he felt nothing of the sort.

Hermione had begged him not to play and Ron had been insistent on him letting Ginny take his place. His professors, particularly Snape and Ixion had given him certain looks throughout the day that told him they didn't care at all for his decision to continue playing.

And now he was beginning to think that maybe they had been right.

-----

"And as a future aunt and uncle, we're angry that you so willingly put your baby's life on the line, again." Ron said.

That was actually something he didn't want to Imagine, "I'd rather not."

-----

The following morning, Harry had announced his retirement to Professor McGonagall.

And while his team knew, along with Ron and Hermione, no one else did.

He kept up the illusion that he was still playing, if only to keep the questions as to why at bay. He still had no idea how to answer them.

But those weren't the only questions he was faced with.

That afternoon in Potions class, there was a low murmur of chatter about the room as Professor Snape had stepped out for a minute.

"Honestly, who uses these potions?" Ron grumbled.

"Who knows." Harry said, sitting back for a moment while the color changed within the cauldron containing his "appearance altering potion".

Better know as the "hair dye potion".

Hermione's hair had suddenly cropped itself short and sandy blonde. She reached out and touched the soft strands hanging by her ear, "It works."

Ron rolled his eyes, "Change it back."

"I have to wait and show Professor Snape." She sighed as if he were a complete idiot for even saying such a thing.

At that moment, said Professor walked past them, giving Hermione a once-over, "You're complete for the day, Mrs. Granger." He said before leaving without any of his usual comments.

All three of them raised their eyebrows and shrugged before Hermione changed her hair back.

Harry looked back down into the cauldron just as the liquid within swirled into the dull green color that signaled it was ready for the next step.

He glanced about at his classmates. He had to take a hair from one of them to use in this dimmed down version of a Polyjuice Potion in order to change his hair.

As he looked around, there was only one place his eyes wanted to land.

Ron noticed him staring at the blonde Slytherin two rows ahead and rolled his eyes once more. "Go get one." He said quietly.

Harry jolted out of his reverie, "Huh?"

"Go yank out a couple of his hairs."

"I'd look ridiculous." Harry said, cheeks reddening and eyes dropping away from Ron's.

With yet another sigh and roll of his eyes, Ron stepped out into the aisle and up two rows. The loud, "Ow! What the fuck?! Weasley?! Get the hell away from me!" could be heard all over the school, Harry was sure.

The Gryffindors laughed as a beaming Ron trotted back to his seat and dropped the hairs into Harry's potion.

"Jesus, Ron... it only needed one." He said, cheeks burning. He looked up briefly and quickly away as he caught Draco looking back at him; rubbing his head.

"Well now it'll be extra Draco-y." He grinned.

Harry shook his head and sifted out enough to try his potion, as Snape began walking up and down the rows again.

With a glance over at Ron, he drank it down in one big gulp.

Afterwards, he set the glass back down and made a face, "Taste good?" Ron asked jokingly.

"Yeah, about as good as those cookies Hagrid makes."

Ron snorted as he turned around and grabbed a few hairs from Seamus' head. "Ouch, Ron! Do you make it a habit of doing that?"

He just grinned at the Irish teen and turned back around. Hemione was giving him that, "Honestly Ron!" look, and Harry just laughed.

Suddenly, his head grew slightly warm and he felt his hair shorten slightly and fall from it's spiked up position to falling down to just above his eyes.

He reached up and touched it. His stomach tightened and he remembered instantly the night when he clutched Draco to him by this hair.

Ron laughed, "Nice look."

Harry flipped his hair back, and shook his head in the manor of a runway model, causing Ron to laugh even harder, as well as Neville and Seamus, and Hermione to giggle.

Though he instantly regretted it when his eyes caught the sight of Draco turning back around to his own cauldron.

Shit. He shouldn't have done that.

"Lovely, Mr. Potter." Professor Snape sneered, "Change it back, you're completed."

He changed back quickly and reached up to feel his spikey hair, happy to have it back again. But he sighed inwardly with the longing sensation that had returned to him once more at the feel of Draco's hair.

He wanted to feel it again.

-----

After Care of Magical Creatures, Harry packed up his things and started back across the grounds towards the school.

A slight change in the day's schedule had made it so that this was both the Gryffindors and Slytherins last class of the day.

The sun was just beginning to lose it's light and the sky was starting to streak with orange as he slowly made the trek.

Even as Ron and Hermione chatted away beside him, he couldn't help but stare at the back of a certain blonde who was a few yards ahead of them.

If he would have been paying attention to his friends, then he would have heard the two of them conspiring. And he would have heard Hermione casting the hex that ripped open Draco's bag.

The Slytherin cursed harshly as he threw his stooped down to collect his things.

When the trio got close enough, Harry turned to the other two, "I'll catch up with you guys later." He said before walking through the snow towards the other boy.

Without a word, he reached down and picked up a couple of Draco's things and held them out to him.

Draco's eyes narrowed as he grabbed them away from Harry, "What are you doing?" He growled.

"Helping you."

"I don't need your fucking help." He hissed, throwing his bag to the ground and walking away.

Harry grabbed his arm, holding him in place, "Why are you so pissed off at me?"

"Don't even ask me that." He said, yanking his arm back, "I might die of stupidity poisoning."

"Draco, please..."

"'Please' what?" He snapped, spinning back around, "You don't even listen to me when I tell you that it's too dangerous to play anymore and then you fucking rip out my hair for your damn potion!"

"I didn't rip-"

"I don't give a fuck." He said with another growl, before turning away once more, "I don't want to hear it."

Harry said nothing as Draco took those first few steps away from him before he blurted out the truth, "I quit."

Draco stopped. He didn't turn around and he didn't move. It was only after a few quiet moments before he turned his head slightly, "Quit what?"

"What do you think?" Harry said, walking up so he was facing the blonde.

"When?"

"Yesterday."

Draco was silent as he stared at Harry, seemingly trying to figure him out.

"Why are you telling me?"

Harry stuck his hands in his pockets, "I figured you'd want to hear it."

"That's not what I want to hear and you know it."

With a great sigh, Harry weighed his options. If he didn't tell Draco exactly what he wanted to hear right now, then he might as well have stayed on the team. And if he did tell him... God only knows.

He bit the inside of his lower lip briefly before shifting his feet and looking back at Draco, "You were right. I shouldn't be playing." Draco only raised an eyebrow, "I quit because you wanted me to."

Draco merely stared at him.

And he continued to do so for a long time.

Finally, he glanced about slightly before transferring all of his books to the crook of his left arm, and brought his right hand up to the back of Harry's neck. With a slight pull, Harry took a step closer and Draco pressed his lips to his.

It remained chaste, even as Draco pulled him closer and moved his head slightly.

When he broke away, he leaned back in a kissed Harry again quickly. His hand settled on Harry's shoulder and both of Harry's came up to hold the front of his robes, toying slightly with the Slytherin emblem.

They stood in silence, the cold air thick around them.

After a minute, Draco pulled his head back so they were looking one another in the eye and whispered, "Midnight. Prefects bathroom."

-----

The hours until midnight seemed to drag by.

Harry didn't tell Ron or Hermione about his plans for later. And he certainly didn't tell the fifth year prefect he had gotten the password from.

No one knew. No one but Draco.

As the hour drew close, Harry slid out of his bed, bringing his invisibility cloak with him as he left the dorm room.

He was nervous to be out without his Map at night, not knowing if and where people might be. But he didn't want to take it, not sure of Draco's reaction if he came across it.

Draco.

That name sent his heart into overdrive. Was what he thought going to happen tonight, going to actually happen?

He didn't know. The thought of it made his stomach weak and his constantly threatening arousal threaten again. But he continued on.

Breathing a slight sigh of relief when he reached the prefects bathroom and drawing in another breath, he whispered the password and slid inside.

He pulled the cloak from him and dropped it to the floor, looking around, he didn't see Draco.

He stepped out, around the pool-deep tub and around a Romanesque pillar to peer around it.

"You came." Draco's voice jolted him.

He spun around to see him in navy blue pajama bottoms and his arms crossed over his bare chest.

Harry swallowed, is that what Draco wore to bed?

He suddenly regretted asking the Sorting Hat for Gryffindor.

"I did." Harry said, swallowing to wet his dry throat.

Draco slowly paced over to him, arms still folded in front of him.

They stared at each other in silence, Draco's blue-grey eyes boring into his, until Harry looked away uncomfortably.

A hand grabbed his chin, turning his head back around to face him.

Harry's breathing increased as Draco licked his scarred bottom lip, dragging his top row of teeth over it.

Then, slowly, Draco reached out, wrapping his arms around Harry and pulled him closer until he was pressed against the blonde.

Moments later, Draco covered his mouth with his own.

Harry responded instantly, grabbing Draco tightly and fisting his hand in the smooth blonde hair.

Draco responded with a small moan, running his hand down Harry's back and pulling him even closer.

Neither one was able to process how they found themselves on the floor, amidst a cluster of towels and pillows. But Harry did remember Draco's hands.

They pushed up his stomach, taking his shirt with them as they went. Harry sat up slightly so it could be pulled off.

Draco had straddled his waist and was sucking on his neck as his cold hands ran up and down Harry's body.

He was unbelievably aroused and he couldn't believe that this was actually happening. Draco was with him. He didn't think this would ever happen again.

Slowly, Draco began kissing his way down Harry's body. Green eyes closed in anticipation of what he hoped was about to happen. When Draco reached his waist, he dragged his fingers down Harry's swollen stomach and latched onto the fabric, "Lift up." He whispered.

Harry did so, allowing Draco to pull his bottoms down and away.

Suddenly he forgot everything that had happened since the day they met. None of the hate or fighting registered to him. And he didn't care that he was laying completely bare in front of Draco, only that the blonde was now stroking his hard arousal with a tight fist.

Harry threw his head back and moaned throatily.

This seemed to be all the encouragement that the blonde was looking for as he lowered his head and ran his tongue over the leaking tip of Harry's erection.

His fingers wound their way into Draco's hair as he began to suck gently at the sensitive length.

Panting, Harry closed his eyes, "Draco... please..." He whispered; his stomach becoming tight.

Without a word, Draco parted his lips and slid them down Harry's arousal.

A tortured moan burst from his mouth as his fingers tightened in Draco's hair.

Draco's head rose and fell steadily between Harry's legs and his hands stroked the shaking thighs he was nestled between.

He began to move quicker, rubbing his tongue along the stiff flesh in his mouth.

Harry's fevered pants and mumbled words pushed him to move faster. His eyes fell closed and he concentrated on the feel of Harry's erection in his mouth.

When he realized exactly what he was doing, he moaned in satisfaction.

Harry cried out at the feeling and bucked his hips, "Draco..." He breathed the beginning of his warning.

Draco opened his eyes briefly to look up at Harry's sweaty face and the green eyes closed in pleasure. He moaned again and bowed his head back down, doubling his pace, determined to make Harry come in the next few bobs of his head.

Harry's breath hitched and he bucked his hips twice more before crying out and exploding within the willing mouth.

It was a few minutes before Harry realized that Draco was now laying on top of him. And a minute more to realize that Draco was kissing him.

His arms wound around the blonde and he spread his legs in an unambiguous invitation.

Draco pulled back and looked at him as if asking if this is what he wanted.

Without a sound, Harry reached up and pulled the blonde back to him, reuniting their mouths.

It was only a moment until Draco took Harry up on his offer and joined him in a coupling that left them both gasping and panting more than their first night together.

*****

Chapter Twenty

Hot, wet kisses were pressed against the back of Harry's neck.

Heated words were murmured into his damp hair, turned almost black by the sweat that soaked it.

Draco pulled his forehead back from where it had been resting against Harry's neck and ran his hand up into the other boy's hair; fisting tightly into the wet strands.

Harry moaned softly as his head was pulled back and a hungry mouth clamped down on his exposed flesh.

Suddenly, Harry's arms gave out and he fell forward onto his elbows. Above him, Draco cried out in a harsh voice as he too fell forward, onto Harry's back.

Wrapping one of his arms around Harry's torso and planting the other on the tile floor, he trusted most of his body weight to the smaller boy.

Harry lowered his head to press against his crossed arms as Draco thrust against him. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe.

If he hadn't been so utterly absorbed in what was going on he would have felt Draco's hand slide from his chest down to his stomach, where it rubbed gently.

The moment was over quickly as Draco moaned out his release into Harry's shoulder.

Harry threw back his head as the blonde continued to thrust, feeling the warmth of Draco's orgasm flooding through his body; until he came himself.

When he collapsed to the ground and Draco had pulled out of him, he closed his eyes, bringing up his knees slightly under him so he wasn't resting entirely on his stomach. But they shook with the strain of holding himself up.

Draco lay silently with his arm folded over his eyes, blocking out the dim light from the many candles that floated above them.

After a moment, he came back to himself, hearing Harry's strained breathing.

He dropped his arm and turned slightly towards the brunette, "Harry?" He asked in a hoarse whisper. The other boy didn't respond.

Draco took in his form, pale and shaking and he pushed himself onto his side, bringing his hand up to rub the back of Harry's neck, "Harry, are you all right?"

Slowly, he turned his head to face Draco, his green eyes still foggy with fading arousal.

He closed his eyes as Draco wrapped one of his arms around him and pulled his sweaty form into his arms on the floor.

Harry closed his eyes and tiredly folded his arms under Draco's and brought the blonde closer to him as he rested his head on the Slytherin's shoulder.

He was so tired, he just wanted to curl up in Draco's arms, but he knew he couldn't.

Even as he felt Draco's long fingers running repeatedly through his hair and his other hand resting low on his back.

But the soft murmur of his heartbeat threatened to lull Harry to sleep anyway, so he slowly pushed himself up.

Draco opened his eyes and stared up at him, not removing his hands, "Where are you going?"

"I have to get back to my room. If I fall asleep here, there’s no end to the questions that would raise."

Draco merely nodded and sat up, rubbing at his sweaty forehead.

After sighing slightly, he reached over and pulled Harry closer by the back of his neck until they met in a slow kiss.

"I'll see you tomorrow night?" Harry asked tentatively when they broke apart.

With a moment of silence between the two, Draco nodded and stood; beginning to dress himself.

-----

It had gone on as such for well into two weeks.

Every night, Harry would meet Draco in the same prefects bathroom, where they'd fuck.

Sometimes for hours and sometimes for a few minutes, depending on what sort of mood Draco was in.

But it was always the same, save the first night this began.

Draco would meet him in a series of harsh liplocks before turning him onto his stomach, bringing him to his knees and fucking him until he could barely walk.

Of course Harry loved being in such close and intimate contact with Draco again and on such a regular basis.

And of course he loved the feeling he was developing that perhaps Draco was beginning to look at him differently.

Maybe he wanted a relationship.

But Harry had no idea.

Their encounters on the floor of the bathroom didn't leave much time for talking.

And neither really said anything afterwards.

Every night, when Harry would return to Gryffindor Tower, he had the sick underlying feeling that he was being used.

Would Draco do such a thing to him?

Especially when he was in this state?

He could have snorted at his own stupidity.

Of course he would.

Draco rarely cared for anyone but himself.

He has been trying to take care of you. His mind would tell him.

Please. Draco, take care of him?

The words didn't even belong in the same sentence let alone the same reality.

And slowly but surely, as the nights wore on and Harry returned to his bed feeling alone and dirty but still sated, he began to doubt everything.

-----

The following night, when Harry crawled back under his covers, shifting slightly to keep his weight off his sore lower body, he drifted into an uneasy sleep.

Harry groaned softly, trying to will away the vision he had taken on as a dream.

He'd been having it for months now and each time it progressed just a bit father or more detail would emerge.

Somewhere in his mind he knew who that tall blonde man was. He'd seen him several times and had his life threatened by him as well. But he just couldn't name him.

In that same place, he also knew who that hooded figure was.

But he just couldn't figure it out by the time he woke up.

The only thing that floated about in his mind after he awoke were three words...

-----

As Harry made his way towards the prefects bathroom and towards Draco he couldn't stop himself from thinking.

He really wanted to know what Draco's motivation was.

Why was he doing this?

Was it because he was just as horny as Harry was and was searching for some sort of release?

Was it the thrill of their forbidden liaison?

Was it that he really did care about Harry and this was his way of trying to show that without actually saying it?

Harry snorted as soon as that thought crossed his mind.

Yeah fucking right.

A few more minutes of silent travel took him down the same hallways, past the same statues, sleeping pictures and dark corridors. And finally inside the bathroom.

"You're late." Draco said from his spot, leaning back against the Roman column.

Harry dropped his invisibility cloak and stared over at Draco, "I fell asleep."

Draco brought up his upper lip in a sneer, "Go figure." He unfolded his arms and pushed away from his post, sauntering over towards the Gryffindor, "Trust it to you to sleep before you come here to fuck."

Harry flushed slightly, turning his head to look at the deep bathtub.

Draco was before him a moment later, fingering the edge of his shirt.

A warm mouth covered his as cold hands wormed their way up his back, pulling his shirt up.

They broke apart as Draco tugged his shirt over his head and he pushed Harry lightly back against the wall; bringing their mouths together as he reached for the ties to his bottoms.

Even though Harry was completely engrossed in losing himself in the blonde's kiss, he couldn't help his wandering mind.

And before he knew it, he had breathed out a command against his lips, "Stop."

It took a moment after Draco had pulled away before he realized what he had said. And a moment more to realize that he had his hands planted firmly against the other boy's chest, keeping him at bay.

"What?" Draco asked, his voice slightly hoarse and his blue-grey eyes just beginning to could over.

Harry took a second to gather his thoughts and clear his throat before speaking, "Draco, what's going on here?"

That seemed to take the Slytherin by surprise, "What are you talking about?" He asked.

"I mean, what is this?" He gestured slightly between the two of them.

Draco's eyes narrowed, "I think you should know what this is." He said, mocking Harry's gesture, "This is what got us this."

Harry found himself mildly shocked when Draco's hand came to rest on his stomach.

The move took him and he stepped away from Draco, unsure of how to take it.

"That's not what I mean." He said, not looking at the blonde, "I mean what is this to you-"

Draco groaned, "Jesus, Harry!" The Gryffindor turned to look at him as he ran his hand quickly through his hair, "Why do you have to question this?"

"Why not?"

"It's nothing, Harry." Draco growled, "Just accept it as that."

Harry felt his stomach tighten. He had seen this conversation taking a much different route, "I can't accept this."

"Why not?" The blonde stepped closer to him, a dangerous spark in his eyes, "If you start asking questions it's just going to fuck everything up."

"What's there to fuck up?" Harry hissed back, pushing his way past Draco and heading for the door.

His arm was caught and he was spun back around, "Don't you walk away from me."

Harry wrenched his arm back, "Don't touch me."

"Why not? You seem to like it when I've got you on your hands and knees, fucking your damn brains out." As he spoke, he continued to advance on Harry, pushing him into the wall and planting his hands on either side of his head. "There's nothing to fuck up here." Draco said, "You, this..." He moved his arm in a sweeping gesture at the room and then back to Harry's stomach where it rested, "Not even this." He growled as Harry's eyes began to cloud up, "This doesn't mean shit to me."

"You don't mean that." Harry whispered, fighting back his tears.

"Don't I?" He sneered, "You're so fucking pathetic."

Harry shook his head and took Draco's shirt in his hands, "This means something to you. I know it does."

"You know? You don't know shit!" Draco yelled, grabbing Harry by his shoulders and slamming him back against the wall, "I don't want shit to do with this fucking kid! Or you!" Tears began to roll down Harry's cheeks, "You're nothing. You're always going to be nothing." Quickly, he leaned in and kissed Harry, hard, "Accept it."

And before he even realized that Draco had pulled away and went storming from the room, leaving his cold and shaking body to sink to the floor, he was back where he started.

Alone.

*****

Twenty-one

Professor Ixion leaned back against the front of her desk, "Today we're taking a bit of a side trip to talk about names." She scooted back until she was sitting on her desk, swinging her legs slightly and looking out at the class. "Whether you realize it or not, you've been named after someone. All names have meaning."

She looked around, "Anyone know what their name means?" There was a collective silence throughout the room, "Right." She whispered. "Hermione..."

At this, Hermione straightened in her chair, "Do you know where your name came from?"

"No, Professor." She said quietly.

"Hermione was the daughter of Helen and Menelaus. The wife of Achilles' son." Hermione smiled softly, "Your name means speed and good luck." Blushing slightly, Hermione looked down at her hands.

"Draco." She said, turning to the group of Slytherins at her left, "Literally translates to 'Dragon'."

"Phoebe," She gestured to a surprised looking Hufflepuff, "Another name for Artemis, the goddess of the moon."

She turned back to the Gryffindors, "And Harry, means 'Power, ruler'."

Directing to the class again, she began a short lecture, "Many of these names are derived from Greek and Roman gods and goddess. The reason that ancient myths were created was to explain things in nature that the people of that time could not explain. Earthquakes, thunderstorms, floods..."

Draco sighed, leaning his head on his hand. Without even realizing it, his attention was drawn to Harry. The black-haired boy didn't seem to be paying much attention either. He was just staring straight ahead, with a hand on his stomach.

His throat tightened and he looked away.

Professor Ixion was back on names again, "Chandra, meaning 'moon', is the Spirit of Resurrection..."

Draco found himself looking back at Harry. No matter how much he wanted to ignore him, he couldn't.

Suddenly he reached over and took Hermione's hand. Draco straightened, eyes narrowing as he watched Harry quickly, but discretely, place her hand on the side of his stomach. A moment later, her face brightened and her eyes went wide.

A pang of jealousy stuck him and he was suddenly overwhelmed by it.

His baby was kicking.

That dirty little Mudblood was feeling his child kicking within Harry's stomach, and he could not.

A murderous rage seemed to storm his brain, he wanted to break her arm off. How dare she touch his child! How dare she feel it moving when he hadn't!

Within his hand, his quill snapped in half. He didn't even notice as Hermione leaned to her left and whispered something to Weasley.

"Adrastos, meaning 'not inclined to run away'..." Professor Ixion droned on, turning towards the black board behind her to write something.

The moment her back was turned Weasley and Granger switched places. Draco's blood was bubbling within him... he better not dare...

But he did. Ron let his hand be led by Harry's to a different spot. A moment later his face lit with excitement and he and Harry shared a smile. Even from this distance, he could see Weasley mouth the word, "Incredible".

That's it! He made to jump up but suddenly Professor Ixion's voice startled him out of his attack plans, "Mr. Malfoy?" He turned abruptly and she gestured to his hand, "You're bleeding."

He looked down at his hand where half of his quill was imbedded in his palm. His brain seemed to come alive and his hand began to throb in pain. He dropped the other blood-covered piece of the quill and looked up at Professor Ixion. "Why don't you go have Madam Pomfrey take a look at that?" She said.

He nodded and stood, hastily collecting his things, he made his way into the aisle and stormed off up the stairs.

Harry's face tightened as he saw Draco walk off. He wanted to follow him, to see if he was okay, but he knew that was just his hormones causing him to be foolish.

Draco would absolutely bite his head off should he follow him. Quickly, the excitement he felt over Ron finally feeling his baby kick evaporated and a sick sort of realization set in.

No matter how deeply he cared for Draco, he would never let Harry love him.

The aftershock of this revelation left him with nothing but a resignated sigh and a dull pain in his gut that he chalked up to being the after effects of the baby kicking.

But he knew that wasn't the truth.

-----

Barely an hour had passed after Draco had ran into Professor Snape on the way out of the infirmary, that he found himself having another heart to heart with his teacher.

"I don't understand you, Draco." He said, leaning back in his chair and looking away from the blonde.

"Professor..." He started with a sigh, but apparently Snape didn't want to hear it.

He held up his hand and continued on as if Draco hadn't spoken at all, "You have a legal obligation to be there for this child. At the very least, financially." He turned his head to face Draco, "And you care about Potter, so don't even begin with that."

The Slytherin sighed at his head of House, "Professor, my feelings towards Har- Potter..." He mentally chastised himself for the slip, "Minimal and debatable in intention as they are, are none of your fucking business."

Snape arched an eyebrow at the way Draco was speaking towards him.

Of course his musings were in his mind.

But valid none the less.

He slowly folded his fingers before him, a sadistic smirk playing on his lips, "You think you're just so damn smart." He shook his head slightly and turned towards his student, "Do you really think you can escape this?"

Draco's eyes narrowed, "What do you mean?"

"Your relationship with Potter."

Draco opened his mouth to object to what was said, but Professor Snape didn't give him the chance to speak, "Do you know why children are conceived between two wizards?"

"Because they fucked." Draco growled in a sarcastic tone.

"Because they are in love." He said without appearing phased.

Draco's cocky smirk seemed to falter a little, "You don't know how I feel about him."

Snape smiled and leaned across his desk towards the blonde, "Oh but I do. You've made it all too obvious. Harry wouldn't be with child at all had the two of you not been in love."

"That is such bullshit!" Draco yelled, standing quickly, "You have no idea what you're talking about!"

The professor stood as well, "The process by which Harry became pregnant is the very same one that was set into motion when your magic touched him." Draco flushed slightly, "Had it been anyone else, Zabini, Goyle, or God forbid, Weasley, they would not be pregnant. Why? Because the child bearing trait that lives in Potter's blood was awakened when you professed an honest and truthful love to him."

"I never said I loved him." Draco stammered.

"An unspoken profession works just as well." Snape said with a sneer.

Draco looked quickly away, unable to believe what he was hearing. He didn't love Harry. There was no way he could.

They fought constantly, dueled in every way possible.

Hell he wasn't even all that cute!

But Draco knew it was a lie.

All of it.

Ever since he had first realized that Harry wanted him that night in the Astronomy Tower, he felt it.

Somewhere in his mind and in his body, he loved him.

He loved Harry.

Draco brought a hand to his face, covering his eyes briefly and inhaling deeply; letting his hand fall down to cover just his mouth before it returned to his side.

Professor Snape walked around the side of his desk to lean against the front of it, folding his arms before him.

"I understand that this is difficult for you, Draco. But you know that you love him. And being away from him is only going to make things worse for the both of you."

"I'll be fine." Draco rasped out in a much weaker voice than he would have liked.

Professor Snape tilted his head back slightly, "He won't."

Draco's eyes met those of his teacher, "What?"

"You don't know much about male pregnancy do you?" He drawled.

"Of course I don't. No one does." Draco snapped.

Snape switched his footing and continued to look at Draco, "That baby cannot mature properly without you. Without your magic." Draco stared, "The child needs your magic and you haven't been supplying it."

"Is that bad?"

He shrugged, "I can't rightly say. But I do know that it will hurt it in the future. Especially if you don't get involved now."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

It took Professor Snape a moment before he responded, "Be with Harry..." he gestured before himself with his hands, "Touch him... be physical with him." He finished in an uncomfortable tone.

Draco almost snorted. But there was no way that he was going to tell his head of House that he had been fucking Potter until he left with a limp every night.

So he remained silent, but swallowed and looked away.

"Just think about it, Draco. There's no point in avoiding it, because he is going to be in your life until you die." Draco looked over at him, "Whether you like it or not."

-----

Draco did, indeed, take the time to think about what Professor Snape had said to him.

He took into account everything he could think of about how this was going to affect his life.

He could never become a Death Eater.

Which wasn't such a loss, but if it ever came down to it, he could never turn to the Dark Lord. And in the same place where he reasoned that, he also realized that he was closing the door on his family.

Could he really leave his father? His mother? The woman who had given birth to him? All of the money and notoriety that came with his name?

Was he really ready to give that all up just to be with Harry Potter and their bastardized child?

They could never marry. It wasn't legal for men to marry anywhere.

Well, unless they wanted to uproot and move to Massachusetts in America.

He would have almost no parental rights to the baby and he could never take it on as his own publicly.

Harry would become a walking freak show and witch and wizard doctors from all over would want to examine him and the baby.

In essence, if he were to go with what his heart was telling him, and return to Harry, he would be, proveberally, turning his life upside down.

-----

Harry had been returning from a late night Astronomy lesson with Ron when he was suddenly very aware of someone watching them.

He slowed his pace, "Do you feel that?" He whispered to Ron, who stopped and looked around.

"Well, well, well, out for a romantic stroll?" A familiar voice drawled.

Both sighed and turned to see Draco approaching them from a side corridor.

"Fuck off, Malfoy." Ron growled.

He was very much informed about Draco's rejection of Harry and he was ready to kick ass.

But Draco didn't take heed of Ron's warning and brushed past him to come to a stop before Harry, "We need to talk." He said, arms folded lazily. "In private."

"He's not going anywhere with you, Malfoy." Ron hissed.

Draco turned to growl back, "He's big enough to make his own decisions, Weasel."

Quickly, Ron had a fistful of Draco's robes and his fist tightened.

But before he could actually hit the blonde, Harry grabbed his hand, "It's okay, Ron."

Ron's head snapped back to Harry, "Don't go anywhere with him." He said firmly.

"I'll be fine." He assured, still holding onto Ron's hand, waiting until the redhead released the Slytherin.

With a great intake of air, he finally loosened his hand and dropped the blonde, who simply straightened his robes and turned on his heel; heading back towards the darkened hallway from which he had emerged.

Harry began to follow, but Ron grabbed his arm, "Harry..." He started to warn.

"I'll be fine, Ron." He reiterated strongly. "Just wait in the common room for me."

Ron's eyes traveled between the waiting Slytherin and his captive Gryffindor, hesitant to let him go.

But finally, he sighed and dropped his hand, "Just be careful."

Harry smiled and without a word followed Draco down the hallway and into an empty classroom.

There was a terse silence between them as Draco rested back against the desk in the front of the classroom and Harry propped himself against one facing him.

"What do you want?" Harry asked quietly, one of his hands playing on his stomach.

Draco's eyes followed the movement, but didn't betray anything otherwise. He shifted his feet and looked down towards the ground, before clearing his throat and beginning, "I've been thinking a lot..."

Harry rolled his eyes, "Does your head hurt?"

Draco ignored the comment and continued on in a quiet, unsure voice, "I'm sorry... that I said you were nothing." Harry just stared, unbelieving what he was hearing, "And I was wrong... in saying that I wanted nothing to do with you." Their eyes met, "Or the kid." He inclined his head forward before looking away briefly.

"So what are you saying?" Harry asked, his voice hoarse.

An eternity passed between them, thick with silence before Draco finally forced himself to speak his final decision, "I want to be with you." He shrugged slightly, "I want to be a dad."

Harry's eyes widened. He simply could not believe he was hearing this.

This from Draco Malfoy, the father of his child who wanted nothing to do with him or their baby for months.

This from the one person he had longed to be close to, to be loved by.

The one person that he wanted by his side through all of the lonely nights he had spent awake in Gryffindor Tower, wondering what he had done so wrong that the father of his child wanted nothing to do with him.

This from the person who had broken his heart.

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and willed away his tears, "That's nice."

Draco's eyes rose to his, obviously not getting the reaction he had expected.

"What do you mean?" He asked hesitantly.

Harry lifted his shoulders in a shrug, "Just what it sounds like, it's nice. Fine. Whatever." He pushed away from the desk he was leaning against and his voice took on an increasingly angry tone, "What, did you think I was going to just burst into tears and throw myself at you? Profess undying love and beg you to be with me forever? Be a perfect father? Lover? Devoted partner with eyes that see only me?"

Draco's face had dropped and his heart began to falter, eyes filling with hot, angry tears as he listened to Harry's speech.

"Did you ever think that maybe I don't want you to be a part of this?" That response threw him, "I gave you a chance, Draco." Harry said, his voice calm, but his eyes wild. "I don't need you."

Draco's heart contracted painfully at that statement, "You can't do this alone." He said, his voice strong.

"I'm not alone. I have Ron and Hermione helping me."

Draco's eyes narrowed, "I don't want that Mudblood near my child." He hissed, tears still threatening.

"Don't you dare talk about her like that." Harry growled, stepping closer to Draco, "She is twice the wizard you could ever hope to be. And she's been there for me. I didn't have to ask her, she just knew that I needed her. Who can say that about you?"

Glancing briefly away from Harry, Draco sighed, finally letting his tears come. He wanted to be with Harry and he had blown it. "I can't make you let me help you." He said, the incredible hurt he was feeling, showing on his face as he reached up and brushed his knuckles against Harry's cheek, "I can't even make you let me see our baby once it's born."

Harry stared at him with sad and tired eyes, "Take care of yourself, Harry." He said withdrawing his hand and slowly turning away.

And in that instant, staring as Draco turned from him and began to walk away, Harry realized that he had just shown him that he was trying to be everything that Harry wanted him to be. And Harry didn't want him to leave... to walk out of his life forever. He wanted his help. He wanted Draco to be there for him.

He wanted Draco to love him.

It felt like slow motion as he reached out and grabbed Draco's wrist. He looked back over his shoulder and saw that tears were starting to drip from Harry's eyes.

He turned back, not bothering to hide the pain he was feeling at Harry's rejection of him or even brush away his own tears, "If I give you this chance..." Harry started quietly, "If I let you into my life... our baby's life... You better not ever leave."

The second he said it, Draco closed the distance between them and kissed Harry.

It took only a moment before Harry had leaned up and wrapped his arms around Draco, holding him tightly as they became reacquainted with one another. After a long minute, Draco pulled back, brushing away the strands of black hair from his forehead and kissing his scar.

Harry's throat tightened and he shut his eyes tight, trying unsuccessfully to block out the tears that threatened once more.

Draco's mouth covered his again, "I won't leave, Harry."

His hand came down between them to rest on Harry's stomach, "Ever."

-----

The wind blew cold against the hooded figure that made it's way slowly through the snow and up the front walk of the large brooding house.

Overhead, the moon was masked by clouds heavy with more snow and darkening the night even more so than it already was.

With a slight shake of their head to clear the flakes from their hood, the witch reached out a gloved hand and knocked on the front door.

Only a moment or so passed before a small, ugly house elf cracked the door open, "Oh, Missus, the Master says no visitors, he does."

Her eyes narrowed and she slammed her hand against the closing door, "He'll see me." She growled.

"Oh no, he says no visitors. None!" The squeaky voice chastised her.

Suddenly someone else appeared at the door and a foot kicked the elf out of the way, "I told you that business guests were allowed." The tall blonde man hissed down at the house elf who bowed, apologized and scampered off in the other direction.

Curling his upper lip, he then turned back to the door, his head going back slightly as he took in the appearance of the woman before him.

Taking hold of the edge of the door, he pushed it open further, "Welcome back... it's been a while."

"Indeed it has." She responded.

The two stared at one another before her mouth cracked into a grin.

Reaching out she opened her arms and he did the same, drawing her into an embrace, "Too long, Lucius." She said quietly, releasing him.

After a quick second of looking her briefly up and down, he stepped aside enough for her to pass by him, "Come in, Numina."

Ixion was the first man to murder one of his kinspeople. After obtaining purification from Zeus, he ungratefully sought to seduce Hera; subsequently siring the monstrous Centaurs. As punishment, Ixion was bound to a wheel that revolved eternally in the underworld.

He came to be known as the greatest sinner in hell.

*****

Chapter Twenty-two

After two days of having basically no contact with Draco, Harry was fed up with it.

They'd finally decided to be together and the most they'd done since was say hi.

Figured. They hated each other and they were having sex twice a day. And now that they were a "couple", they hadn't laid a hand on one another.

Well that was all about to change.

After lunch in the Great Hall the following Saturday, everyone was headed out to the Pitch to watch the Ravenclaw vs. Hufflepuff game. Assured that no one would be in their dorm, Harry sought out Draco on the way down towards the looming hoops.

When the blonde caught sight of him, he pulled back from his group of followers and waited until they were relatively alone before he approached.

Hermione left them but had to forcefully drag Ron away.

He still wasn't too crazy on Draco and he didn't want Harry alone with him.

When finally Harry slid up close to him, Draco spoke, "What's up?"

"Do you really wanna watch the match?" He asked, tightening his arms around himself against the cold.

Draco's mouth rose slightly and he braved another step closer, "What do you have in mind?" He purred.

Harry's cheeks flushed a bit, "We can head back to our dorm."

"Your dorm?" He questioned, pulling away, "You mean Gryffindor Tower?"

Harry nodded and Draco rolled his eyes, "I can't go in there, I'll be slapped with more detentions than I know what to do with."

Even though there were a few people about, Harry slid one of his hands out and placed it on Draco's side; stepping just a bit closer, "No one will be there. Where's your sense of adventure?"

"You must have fucked it out of me." He said, a smirk in his voice but one not present on his face.

Harry grinned and Draco surprised him by leaning in and kissing him. Harry pulled away instantly, "Draco..." He warned, looking about.

Though he seemed to have forgotten where he was for a moment, Draco ignored it and turned away from Harry, heading back the way he had come from the castle, "Coming?" He asked over his shoulder.

In just a moment Harry was following; walking a little ways behind him so as not to draw too much attention to themselves.

-----

"Oh shit..." Harry groaned, pressing his face further into his pillow.

"That it?" Draco asked quietly.

Harry nodded and stifled a whimper as Draco dug his fingers into the base of Harry's spine.

When finally a moan erupted from him Draco laughed and scooted back up the bed as Harry rolled onto his side facing Draco. A hand slid under his neck and brought him a bit closer while both of Harry's hands rested in between them. Draco's other hand just lay on his side.

The two rested in comfortable silence for a long time, Harry with his eyes closed and Draco just looking at him and around the room.

It was so much more... cozy than the dungeons of Slytherin.

Well... a dungeon doesn't give a good start for being cozy, but it was just a much more homey feel.

"What are you looking at?" Harry asked in a tired voice, finally cracking his eyes open.

Draco turned back to him and brought his leg up to lift over top of Harry's, "Everything. You know this might just be the first time a Slytherin has been in here."

Harry smiled and shrugged, "Doesn't matter."

"Oh this from the perfect Harry Potter." Draco rolled his eyes.

"I'm already sleeping with the enemy, so what does it matter?"

Draco's eyes narrowed but not in threatening manor, "So now I'm the enemy, am I?"

"In a sense. I don't think a lot of people would be happy that you're in here, and most of them would be Gryffindors."

"Doesn't matter." Draco whispered mockingly.

Harry's hand ran up his chest to the back of his neck, rubbing gently, "I like you here."

Their eyes met and Draco leaned over to press a slow, wet kiss to Harry's lips, "I like it to."

-----

The commotion of the ending match could be heard through the window they had left open, signaling the end of the game and the end of their time together.

Rather than waking Harry, who had long since fallen asleep, he kissed him softly and quickly left the Tower for the safety of the dungeons.

When he walked into his dorm room, he knew instantly that someone had been there.

A sudden indignant 'hoot' changed that "someone" to a "something".

He walked over to his bed and dropped down on the green comforter and watched the red-ish hawk owl walk around on Goyle's bed.

"Hey!" He yelled, startling it, "I'm over here."

He recognized the bird as one of his father's.

It took a moment before flapping over to Draco's bed and presenting it's leg to him. He untied the letter and pushed the bird away, "Bloody stupid thing." He grumbled.

As if understanding, it pecked at him and flew off out the open door.

He mumbled more curses at the bird and set about opening the letter, breaking the Malfoy family crest sealing it.

The entire letter was scrawled in his perfect script, and then he took extra time to make his signature look like it belonged framed in some front hallway of Parliament.

He crumbled the letter and threw it at his night stand.

Great.

Just bloody fucking great.

He had finally decided to be with Harry, to have some part in his child's life and now what? He was to go gallivanting off tomorrow so he could bear his arm to the Dark Lord?

Now, more than ever, he hated his father.

He couldn't take the Mark. There was just no way he could.

The negative energy and the magic itself was simply too Dark for their growing child.

If he returned home from this trip to his father's with the Mark on his arm, he would never be able to go near Harry.

He had gone over this with himself a dozen times and he still had no answer. And he always came to the same conclusion.

He had to go home.

-----

After dinner that night, Draco was able to tell Harry to meet him in the Prefects bathroom right after curfew.

When the two were seated, Draco told him about his father and about his impending trip home the following morning.

"You can't go." Harry told him, "If you go to see him you know what will happen."

"I know, Harry. But what else am I supposed to do? If I don't go home, he'll fucking kill me the next time he sees me." Draco replied irritably, picking at the leather of his shoes.

Harry sighed and leaned back against the wall, letting his hand rest on his stomach.

Suddenly he jumped and grabbed Draco's wrist, "It's moving!" He said excitedly, pressing the pale hand to his stomach. "Feel?"

After a moment, Draco felt what was probably a small foot move across his hand.

He grinned and looked to Harry, "Shit... I do."

A few seconds later the action repeated itself and Harry beamed. Draco had never before felt his child moving.

When Harry turned excited eyes on him, Draco pulled him into a demanding kiss.

Harry's hands instantly sought out Draco's body.

The kiss intensified and Draco pulled Harry onto his knees and then onto his lap so that the Gryffindor was straddling him.

Harry began to unbutton Draco's shirt, but he stopped him, pushing Harry back slightly.

"What?" He asked, slightly out of breath and trying to ignore his arousal.

But Draco just looked at him.

Slowly, one of his hands slid up his chest, resting briefly over his heart, then running up his throat to his cheek where it rested. Harry closed his eyes and laced the fingers of his other hand through Draco's.

He felt Draco's thumb rub over his lips and he pressed a kiss to it.

His eyes opened as Draco led his slow fingers onto his scar, gently tracing it up and down before moving into his hair to the back of his head.

Harry felt his eyes tear up.

No one had ever touched him with such reverence and love before. There was almost a silent awe in the way Draco's cold fingers moved over his heated skin, feeling him.

His head was pulled down and he parted his lips, allowing Draco's tongue to slide into his mouth.

They kissed slowly for a minute before they parted and Harry sunk down against him, into the comforting lock of his arms.

He closed his eyes and simply let Draco hold him and rub his back, "I have to go home tomorrow." He said quietly, "If I don't come back by Tuesday, tell Dumbledore what happened."

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded against Draco's neck.

The blonde pushed him back enough to kiss him throughly, "I won't tell him about the baby."

"I know you won't." Harry rasped, trying hard not to cry. He felt like his only family was being stolen away from him again.

"Promise me something." Draco said quietly.

"What?"

Draco made sure Harry was paying attention before he spoke, "That no matter what, whether I decide to take the Mark or not, that you do not come looking for me."

Clear blue eyes bore into him, making him feel a weak sort of helplessness that came from no other person, and he nodded.

"Promise." Draco pressed.

After a very long silence Harry finally did, "I promise."

-----

Draco lay awake for hours after departing from Harry, unable to find a way out of going home.

And he couldn't see a way out of getting the Mark, but he did think of a way to buy himself a little bit of time.

So at seven in the morning, long before he suspected too many people would be awake, he used the password spoken by Harry the day before and slid inside the portrait (what shit security they had) to the, thankfully, empty Gryffindor common room.

Quickly and as quietly as he could, he climbed the stairs towards the Seventh years boys dorms and crept inside.

Luckily, Harry slept close to the door so he crawled onto his bed without bypassing too many of the sleeping tenants.

He shook Harry awake, and kept him quiet by a hand over his mouth; which he replaced with his own as soon as Harry's eyes grew wide upon seeing him.

As he pulled back, he ran his hand through Harry's hair and whispered into his ear, "I'm not taking the Mark."

Harry opened his mouth to respond but stopped as Ron suddenly groaned as though he were alerted to a foreign presence and was starting to wake.

Draco kissed him again, lingering hard and fully.

"I love you." Harry whispered when he pulled away to leave.

"You too." He said, pecking him quickly on the lips again.

With one more touch on his cheek, Draco had slipped back out of the room, leaving Harry alone once more.

Ron sat up suddenly, "Was someone in here?" He asked groggily.

"No, go back to sleep."

Without a word, the redhead followed orders and began snoring softly again.

Harry lay back down as well but wasn't able to fall back asleep. He kept thinking about what he had just told Draco, and what the blonde had said back to him.

Granted it wasn't a full blown confession of his undying affection, but he had still said it.

With a grin, Harry curled up on his side and fell soundly back to sleep.

*****

Chapter Twenty-three

Draco took about an hour to pep talk himself before he activated the port key he kept in his school trunk that sent him sprawling out on the floor of his room.

He never had quite gotten the hang of using those damn things.

He muttered a curse to no one in particular and rose to his feet, brushing himself off.

Slowly, he took a look around himself.

He had grown up in this Manor. Eighteen years now he had lived here as a spoiled little bastard.

Deprived of nothing material and everything emotional.

With a sigh, he approached his bed. Which was large and ornately decorated with white, black and gold. Another thing he probably could have done without.

He ran his fingers over the objects on his night stand. A small carved rock figure of an owl, the edge of the small pewter bowl containing several rings and necklaces, and along the edges of a picture frame.

Heaving another sigh, he took the picture in his hands and sat down on the edge of his bed.

It contained a photo of himself as a second year student with his father. Right after his father had bought the set of broomsticks that would in turn buy his way onto the Slytherin quidditch team.

He didn't know why this picture held any significance to him, but it had struck him how happy his father had been at his willingness to be deceitful to get what he wanted.

Perhaps it was the simple fact that it had made his father happy.

Something he used to strive to do.

It used to be so simple then. Cheat at something. Lie to get his way. Hex someone for his own amusement.

Now, it essentially meant the choice between good and evil.

And it was still all so simple.

If he really wanted to make his father happy, then all he had to do was bear his arm to the Dark Lord.

Well, it entailed a bit more than that.

Such as giving away everything that he was starting to view as important.

Harry and the baby. His life with his family.

Sure, now if he decided that it was too much responsibility, he could easily turn away. And it was. He knew it was a huge endeavor he was taking on.

It was a lot of responsibility to have at such a young age, but he had decided to accept it. He wanted this child.

He had always intended on having a family, although not quite one like this.

But this was the family that he wanted for himself.

With one more sigh, he replaced the picture on the night stand and pressed his hands on either side of him on the bed and lowered his head in thought.

A moment later his door was opened and he jumped.

"Lecker..." Draco said, noticing the house elf.

"I is sorry for not knocking, Sir. I is not knowing that you was home, Sir." He said, bowing and backing out of the room.

But Draco stopped him, "Lecker, is my father home?"

"No, Sir. He will be back soon, though, Sir."

"And my mother?" Draco asked, standing.

Lecker appeared nervous and Draco's eyes narrowed on the small being, "She's downstairs, Sir. In the library she is, Sir."

There was a moment of silence before Draco nodded and dismissed the elf without any verbal games.

He took a minute to prepare himself before he stood and stepped out into the hallway.

Slowly, he bypassed the pictures of many of his sleeping relatives. A few called out to him, but he simply ignored them.

He climbed down the stairs and looked around the vacant entry hall. No signs of any of the house elves, which was a bit odd, but he ignored it and continued on past his father's office and on down to the library.

He paused at the door, smelling the familiar scent of burning wood from the fireplace.

It was only after he had opened it and stepped inside that he realized his mother never had the fireplace lit. She was terrified of burning the house down.

"Father..." He practically whispered.

Sitting near the fire, his father looked up briefly from the book in his lap.

"Draco." He said as if he couldn't be less interested. "Come in. Close the door."

Draco hesitated and it was not lost on his father. Slowly, he did as he was instructed; feeling as though he was closing the door on his life at the same time.

"Come here." He said, turning the page of his book.

Licking his lips, Draco took a seat near his father, by the fire and waited nervously for him to finish.

A minute or so later, as though he had nothing better to do, he marked his spot and closed the book.

Lucius crossed his legs and pressed his fingers against his temple, propping his arm on the armrest.

"Welcome back." He said without his usual sneer.

"Thank you." Draco said with a nod, "Lecker said you were out, I was looking for Mother." He said, trying to keep the conversational tone alive.

Lucius raised his eyebrow and looked away as he set his book on a nearby table; before focusing on his son again, "I assume you know why you're here."

"I do." Draco said, his heart rate increasing.

"And?" His father asked, clearly impatient.

Draco bit the inside of his lip, trying frantically to arrange his thoughts, "I can't." His father instantly looked annoyed and he continued on hurriedly, "Not yet, I mean."

"Explain." Lucius growled.

"I can't take the Mark while I'm still at school. Dumbledore will know, he'll be able to sense it. After I graduate, then I'll-"

"Draco, Draco, Draco..." Lucius interrupted him with a slight laugh, "You've wasted years with your excuses. Time's up."

Draco felt his heart falter, "Father-"

"Don't 'Father' me." Lucius spat, "I know why you don't want to take the Mark." Draco swallowed, "And it's not because you're scared, or because you want to shame our family, or even because you couldn't care less about the Dark Lord's plans."

He tried to breathe easily. There was no way he knew.

But his father gave him a look that said nothing except, 'Oh but I do.'

Draco didn't say a word and his face betrayed nothing of what he was feeling internally as his stomach twisted.

Lucius stood and strode over to one of the many shelves. His hands came to rest on a dark mahogany box, his fingers tracing the edges of it.

"You look tense." As he spoke, he opened it and withdrew a cigar, "Honestly, Draco. Expectant fathers should really be more at ease."

Draco blinked and swallowed, unsure of what he had just heard.

He didn't feel like he was breathing and his heart felt like it was frozen in his chest. Hours seemed to pass as his father removed another cigar and turned to him, face burning with satisfaction.

Lucius walked past him and pushed one of the cigars into his hand.

It took him a minute before he looked down at it and began breathing again, "I..." He tried.

"You don't know what I'm talking about?" Lucius asked.

Dazed, he looked up and watched his father pouring two glasses of scotch and walking back over.

He handed one to Draco, who looked up at him. He smirked evilly and clanked his glass against his son's, "Cheers."

"Father..."

Lucius held up his hand, "Drink."

Without a word, Draco downed the glass and set it down on the table beside him. He started slightly as his father struck a match and held it out before him.

He blinked up at his father, "No thank you." He whispered.

Without missing a beat, he lit his own cigar and returned to his chair; folding his legs and grinning both inwardly and outwardly as he puffed at the cigar.

"Truly excellent." He mused to himself.

Draco was still staring at the cigar in his hands, unable to think. He had no idea what to say or do.

"Whose is it?" Lucius asked quietly but still with amusement in his voice.

Draco looked up and shook his head slightly, "Some girl."

Lucius leaned his head back and laughed, "Try again."

He knew instantly that his father knew everything. He knew that it wasn't a girl and he knew that it wasn't just some guy. He knew it was Harry Potter.

"I don't know what to say." He rasped.

"Well I imagine not." His father said, looking back at him. "Disgracing me as you have."

"I didn't mean for it to happen." Draco told him, honestly.

Lucius shook his head, "Of course not. No, why would you mean for it to happen?" He sucked in another breath on his cigar, puffing it out before looking back at his son, "People fuck their enemies all the time."

"I didn't fuck him." Draco defended.

"Then what did you do?" He asked again as thought he really just could not care less.

Draco breathed, looking away, "Well, I mean... I did... but it wasn't like that."

Lucius' smile could no longer be contained as he uncrossed his legs and leaned forward towards his son, "Oh and what was it like, Draco? Was it an expression of your deep and undying love for him?"

Draco closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, biting back the prickling of tears he felt, "Don't hurt him." His voice cracked.

Lucius leaned back in his chair and smiled, puffing on his cigar. He knew he had his son exactly where he wanted him.

"Well it seems the two of us are in quite the predicament." He looked at Draco, "I need to give my heir to the Dark Lord to redeem my name and your lover needs protection."

Draco tilted his head back, straining to keep his tears at bay and failing. He sniffed once and turned to his father, tears finally skating down his cheeks, "What do you want me to do?"

About an hour later, Draco had his father's silence written into a spell bound contract and in turn his father had his left forearm.

-----

That night Draco had been given his Death Eater robes and was told that the ceremony was to take place that night.

He sat in his room, glaring deeply at the pile of black laying on his bed and thinking about Harry.

Part of him said.

But Draco just shook his head and wiped at his eyes. He had to.

The Dark Lord didn't know about his child with Harry. His father had kept that information close to his chest so he could use it against his son.

Draco sat on the edge of his bed, cursing his father. Slowly, he brought his elbows to his knees and buried his face in his hands, "I'm sorry, Harry." He whispered, "I'm so sorry."

-----

Professor Snape waited just inside the dark room underneath the Malfoy's house where the ceremony they had been called for was to take place.

"What's this all about?" Numina asked from his side.

"I don't know." He mumbled back, keeping his head down inside his hood, "All he said was that we're having an initiation ceremony."

She turned to him, "Who is it?"

"Didn't say."

It wasn't long before they were ushered down the dark hallway, past pictures in gold and black frames that taunted and yelled to them; and on down the stone stairway.

It had been a while since he had been to one of these ceremonies and the candidate was always some young male, in his early twenties, looking for a thrill ride.

They were usually dead within the month.

The new ones never knew how to conduct themselves and just didn't know how to stay alive.

Keeping your eyes averted was key. Especially on nights like this when the Dark Lord himself would be present.

But he'd been around. He knew what he was doing and he knew enough to keep his head down and his mouth shut. Especially now that he was playing espionage for the Order.

Numina, on the other hand, was a bit more of a loose cannon and he worried about her.

His feelings towards her had never been truly pure in intention, but he'd never let that get in the way. He kept it strictly professional. Both here and at school.

But he sometimes worried about her. Her looks were striking and that didn't always bode well for women who joined the Death Eaters and climbed the ranks as she had.

They stood silently beside one another, waiting for the person to be brought out.

And before long a hush went through the assembled group of thirty or so and the door at the end of the room opened.

Out walked Lucius Malfoy, dressed to the T in his Death Eater robes, followed closely by Draco.

At this, Snape's head snapped up but he lowered it again immediately, trying not to appear as sideswiped as he felt.

His eyes drew up and he looked as closely as he could.

Draco was dressed in the robes of a Death Eater as well and he kept his head down as he was walked to a chair in the middle of the room.

The professor felt his heart stop.

He'd always had a soft spot of Draco and he liked him immensely. He knew that his loyalties were up in the air, but he also knew that he'd never really wanted to follow in the path of his father. He didn't really desire this life.

And now, Harry was pregnant with his child.

What was Draco going to do? After this...

He simply lowered his head, unable to think about it anymore; for he had no absolution to the problem.

-----

Draco tried to regulate his breathing.

It would do him no favors should he blow this in front of the Dark Lord by acting panicked.

Though inside he just wanted to run to his mother and cry.

He breathed slowly, trying to calm his mind.

He told himself all of these things, trying desperately to remain calm.

He could hear his father speaking to the assembled Death Eaters. He could hear them responding.

But at the same time, he heard nothing.

His mind was a blur, he couldn't see and he didn't hear what was being said. He knew only that he was in a world of trouble and that there was nothing he could do about it.

He was motioned to sit and as he did, fingers gripping into the armrests, he saw before him Professor Snape.

This didn't come as a shock. He'd already known that. He'd seen him come to his house many times for meetings and gatherings, wearing his dark robes.

But what did come as a shock to him was seeing who was standing next to him.

The moment his eyes landed on Professor Ixion, her green eyes opened to meet his.

A chill rolled down his spine as he recalled a conversation between he and Harry in the infirmary.

Draco wanted to leap from his chair and kill her.

That's how he knew.

That's how his father knew.

Ixion had betrayed Harry.

It was all her fault.

-----

It didn't hurt as much as Draco thought it would.

When the Dark Lord approached him and he rolled up his sleeve, he beared his arm without flinching.

He swallowed hard and looked away as the tip of his wand, identical to Harry's, was pressed into his skin.

It burned... felt as though he were being scalded.

But it wasn't as bad as he thought it was going to be.

It was over in about a minute and he easily bit back the tears he wanted to let loose.

Not for the pain, but for the family he had betrayed and for the pain he was going to cause Harry.

He didn't want it to be real and he reasoned that that's probably why it didn't hurt that badly.

He just ignored it.

The wine he drank afterwards with a group of Death Eaters that had stayed behind to congratulate him on joining them helped to numb him.

His arm throbbed with his heartbeat as he excused himself and climbed the stairs to his room; passing his professors, who both looked up as he walked by.

He said nothing to them.

When finally he was in his room, he tore the black robes from his body, throwing them as far away from himself as he could. He stumbled into his bathroom and turned on the shower as hot as he could.

He stepped under the spray, not bothering to remove his clothes until he was being stung by the heat of the water.

His arm protested to the sudden change of temperature but he ignored it, seeking to cleanse himself.

His skin was bright red by the time he had climbed out of the shower. He didn't towel off and he didn't barely took the time to pull on his pajama bottoms before he crawled into his bed.

Draco pulled the covers up to his chin and curled under them, closing his eyes and wishing for his nightmare to end.

Before he finally fell asleep, aided by the vast amount of alcohol he had consumed, he prayed that somehow Harry knew that he had done this for them.

To give their child a chance at life.

"I'm sorry, Harry."

*****

Chapter Twenty-four

Professor Snape watched, standing beside Numina as she eyed the other people in the room, making sure that no one was near them, as Draco climbed the stairs to his room.

He leaned in close to her, but kept his head up and eyes open on the others, "Do you want me to go?"

"He trusts you." She turned to look at him, "You've got an hour."

With a nod, he waited until she walked away to Lucius and pulled him from the room, as well as all of the remaining Death Eaters. Probably with the enticement of sitting around in the lounge, drinking and smoking.

He hung back and slunk off up the stairs.

He'd been here many many times. Before he became a spy and after.

The layout of this house was nothing new to him, so it didn't take him long to pass down the hallway to Draco's room.

He looked about, luckily there weren't many pictures around here. With any luck, none of them would recognize him.

Not that it would matter much after tonight anyway.

It hadn't taken him long after Draco had been Marked before he had conspired with Ixion and had a plan to get Draco away from here.

And it probably wouldn't take anyone very long to realize that it was he who had done this. Unless he actually had someone up there looking out for him.

But it seemed unlikely.

He knocked quietly but received no response.

Knocking once more, he pushed the door open and stepped inside, closing it behind him. "Draco?" He said quietly.

There was, again, no response.

He looked around the dark room, the only light came from the fireplace lit along the far wall.

As he looked he could see Draco's balled up Death Eater robes near it.

His gaze filtered over the room and came to rest on the bed where he was certain Draco lay.

He approached slowly, careful not to startle him if he was awake.

But as he stood by his bedside, it appeared that he had passed out. Probably from all the drinking he had done.

The professor reached out and gently shook his shoulder, "Draco."

Nothing.

"Draco." He said more forcefully, shaking him a bit harder.

The blonde groaned and moved around a bit.

"Draco, wake up!" He said with harsh instance.

His student's eyes snapped open and he pushed himself away from him, "Get out of here." He hissed, grabbing for his head.

The movement seemed to have sent his world spinning. Snape reached out and took him by the shoulders, but Draco pulled away, "I said get out!"

"Draco, you have to come with me."

Pained blue eyes turned on him, "What for? I already fucking joined you, what more do you want?"

Snape absolutely could not resist rolling his eyes as he sat down on the edge of the bed, "Do you honestly think that I'm here to take something from you?"

The blonde remained silent and the professor sighed, "Draco, if I were any threat to you, don't you think I would have done something long ago? With my knowledge of the baby?"

For this, Draco had no reply. He looked down at his hands, suddenly feeling very sick at the thought of Harry.

He groaned and covered his face with his hands, "What am I going to do?" He whispered.

"You're going to come with me."

"What for?" Came the muffled response.

Hands took him by the shoulders and shook him slightly, "Draco, don't you get it? I'm here to help you! I'm not like the other Death Eaters."

"What about Ixion?" Draco spat.

"That will be explained later. When I have you away from here."

Draco's sarcastic tone appeared, "And just where am I going to go?"

"Back to school." Snape replied.

But the blonde boy just stared at him, "Back to school? Are you mad? If I leave now, I'll be sleeping with one eye open for the rest of my life."

"Sometimes sacrifices must be made for those we love."

Draco's shoulders fell and he looked away, resigned, "I can't go back to him. The magic is too Dark."

Professor Snape grabbed Draco and forced him to meet his eyes, "Have I ever given you reason not to trust me?" There was no response but no denial either, "Then get up. come with me."

"And leave?" Draco asked.

"Yes."

Draco looked around him. If he left now he would truly be leaving everything he had left behind.

His life with Harry was over before it began and now, if he left here, he would have nothing.

"What will I do when I leave school?"

"Draco, we can deal with that when the time comes, but if you ever want to have any measure of control over your life, then you have got to come with me now."

He turned away, thinking deeply to himself. Could he really do this? Was he really ready to give up everything he had left?

-----

Hours later, Draco sat in the deserted Potions classroom of the Hogwarts dungeon.

He was in his usual class seat, head down on his arms and waiting for the return of Professor Snape.

It hadn't taken him long after he had been issued his final chance to leave for him to decide that he wanted a different life.

Even though his life was probably in danger to the point of death now.

The final vote in his decision to return was the fact that Professor Snape had thrown Harry into the equation.

It was the crying of his pained heart that had forced him to return here, even though he knew deep down that he had spent his last night with Harry days ago.

When the door at the back of the room opened, he didn't turn; just waited for Snape to come to him.

And when he did look up, his eyes widened and then narrowed in rage upon seeing Numina Ixion standing before him.

"You." He hissed, leaping from his seat.

But Snape grabbed him by the arm and forced him back down, "Draco, I said that it would be explained and you are going to listen.

Although he wanted nothing more than to rip out her eyes and tear off her face, he was no match for the both of them and it was clear that Snape wasn't in the mood for fighting with him.

"Draco, Professor Ixion isn't who you think she is." He started.

Draco didn't want to hear it, "Oh I think she's exactly who I think she is. She fucking sold Harry out to my father!"

"I did nothing of the sort." She interrupted him, "I wouldn't sell Harry for anything."

He snorted, "Like I believe that!"

"You should." Snape broke in, drawing his attention, "Numina was brought in to protect Harry."

"Well a fine fucking job she's doing! She almost handed him over to my father!" He yelled.

She shook her head, "Draco, I never said a word to you father about Harry."

"Who did then?" He demanded.

Numina shook her head, "I don't know who."

"Well I don't believe you!" He pounded his fist on the desk and jumped from his seat, "Thanks to you, I can never be with Harry again! I can never see my child and I sure as hell don't get to live happily ever after!"

"I didn't tell him, Draco." She said softly, "And you can go back to Harry. I know that he's waiting for you to return."

"I can't go back to him!" He yelled, "My father made sure of that."

Both of the professors shook their heads, "Draco, listen to her. You can go back to Harry, nothing's stopping you but you!" Snape almost yelled.

"I can't go back to him!" He cried, throwing up his hands in his exasperation at their inability or refusal to accept and understand this.

Numina paced forward a few steps, "You have to Draco, he needs you."

"I've been branded!" Draco yelled, spinning around and tearing up his shirt sleeve, revealing the Dark Mark.

Her eyes glanced only briefly at it before returning to his teary eyes, "You're not a cow Draco."

He swallowed hard, fighting to keep his tears at bay, "Might as well be. That's all he sees us as."

She watched with a pained heart as he walked over to one of the windows on the far wall and set his palms down on the cold stone; hanging his head.

Professor Snape made a move to go over to Draco, but she caught his arm.

The silence stretched on between the three of them until Numina slowly walked over to him. She gently placed her hand on his shoulder, "You have to go back, Draco. Harry needs you and so does your baby."

Still not looking at her, he shook his head and sniffed before speaking, "I can't. Dark magic can hurt it. Maybe even kill it."

"Then your baby will be fine."

He turned to stare at her, holding up his arm and demanded, "What do you think this is? A rub on tattoo?"

"You're not evil." She said calmly.

"This is!" He yelled, jabbing at the skull, "This fucking mark is evil! And now I'll never get to see my child! Can't you understand that?! Or do you just like hitting where it hurts?" Tears were now streaking down his cheeks.

She was silent a moment before she spoke, "You are not Dark, Draco."

He moaned loudly, more tears coursing from his eyes, "That has nothing to do with it!"

"Oh I think you'll find it does." She said softly.

It took him a moment before he realized she had moved. Tearing his eyes from hers, he looked down to her left forearm and stared.

Her own Dark Mark blazed brightly up at him.

When she started rolling her sleeve back down, his eyes snapped up to hers, "An Auror's work is never done." She said with a sad smile.

"You're an Auror?" He asked almost breathlessly.

She nodded, reaching up to run her fingers over his damp cheeks, brushing away the fresh tears there.

"I had to join. The American Ministry had lost all of it's undercover Death Eaters that year." His eyes were wide as he listened to her, "Someone had to do it."

His eyes were still uncomprehending. "This Mark has nothing to do with the bearer being evil." She said quietly, resting her hand on his shoulder, "It's what's in your heart that determines that."

He closed his eyes, undoubtedly trying to hold back more tears, "You’re here to protect Harry?"

She nodded, "And how long will he stay alive without you?" She asked softly, "Go back to him."

But he shook his head once again, speaking brokenly, "I can't... I can't take the chance that it could effect Harry." He sniffed again, opening his eyes and looking at her, "He has to survive this. He has so much more to do."

She smiled again, cupping his chin and tilting his head up to make sure he was looking at her as she spoke, "What's the use in winning a war if we destroy everything we wish to come back to?"

He swallowed and smiled slightly, tears skating down his cheeks again. Silence settled over them, broken only by the sounds of Numina wrapping her arms around Draco, as he leaned in to her.

He closed his eyes as he brought his hands up to hold lightly on to her.

A moment later, a hand was placed on his shoulder and he knew that Professor Snape had joined them.

Draco just continued to stand there, eyes closed, and his mind racing.

Was it true?

Could he really return to Harry?

If his trust in Professor Snape and his newly found confidence with Professor Ixion were not misplaced then he could.

And tomorrow, he would.