Harry Potter and the Womb of Requirement NOW CODED

10

As January became February, the weather changed, turning from snowy and cold to stormy and windy with freezing rain. For the time being, Quidditch was out of the question. At this, the boys were secretly relieved, trying to be sympathetic to Ron’s grumbling, but failing.

In the first week of February, Dumbledore swept into the boys’ quarters followed by a tall gaunt man, completely bald, with rimless pince-nez clamped to the bridge of his nose. Madam Pomfrey bustled in at the rear. “This is Medi-Wizard Maestus, boys. He is an obstetrician from St. Mungo’s. Do not be alarmed, he has been sworn to secrecy. Madam Pomfrey is of the opinion, that you, Draco, are in need of your first examination. Will you consent?”.

Harry sent, {Do you want me with you, love?}. Draco shook his head, {I’ll be okay. I think}. He looked up and nodded to his Headmaster, “Yes, I consent”. Draco was led to the bedroom by the Mediwizard and the Matron and the door was closed. A few minutes later, Harry felt pain in his rear, then pressure on his lower gut, {Dragon, are you all right?}. Draco gasped in Harry’s mind, {It’s a bloody internal exam, and it hurts. This guy’s got hands like hams. Ouch}. Harry winced in sympathy. The doctor asked Draco many questions, many of a deeply personal nature, before asking Draco to dress. “Well, it would appear you are a little more along than you thought. From examining you, I would say you are at about nine or ten weeks now. There will be an examination of your magical abilities by an Auror when you have passed the first trimester. The nausea should pass soon. After the first three months, you can Floo but not apparate, but I’m afraid Quidditch is out of the question until after the birth and the transformation”.

Draco looked confused, the doctor smiled, “This is a womb of requirement. Your new internal arrangement will only last until after the child is born, then after a few weeks, you will become yourself again. The main determinant of that is if you decide to breastfeed or not. If you do, then your body will stay this way until you wean the baby, but you could fall pregnant again, unless you neglect to protect yourself. I will need to examine you again at six months, and in your final month, you will be secretly removed to the Maternity wing at St. Mungo’s where I will assist in the birth. I will be in touch. Good afternoon, Draco, and good luck”, he swept from the room. Dumbledore nodded at Harry, “Go to him. We’ll let ourselves out”. “Thank you, Doctor, Professor, Madam Pomfrey”.

He found Draco in a dejected huddle in the middle of their bed. He climbed up beside him and held him. He could feel the hurt and anger in his beloved’s mind, and sent him love and warmth and a gentle mind kiss. He felt Draco relax against him, {That was horrible}. Harry stroked Draco’s back, {I felt it, you were very brave. How about if I run you a nice hot bath. Take some of the aches and pains away}. Draco lifted his head and kissed Harry, {Thank you, babe, that would be nice. I feel disgusting after that. I saw him snap on that latex glove and, ugh, I can’t talk about it}. Harry felt the shudder. He ran the bath, and while Draco soaked, he ordered food.

As they ate, they read, in a companionable silence. Draco opened one of the St Mungo’s tomes, starting at chapter one: The Magickal Babye and ye Infante to the Age of Three Years. As his eyes scanned the page, Harry could feel the shock building in his lover. {What is it?}. Draco stared at Harry, {How old were you, when your parents were killed?}, Draco winced a bit at the baldness of his question, but held Harry’s gaze. Harry shrugged, {Nearly two. Why?}. Harry watched the blood drain from Draco’s face. {Of course}, he whispered, {He didn’t want you to be registered, Harry. That’s why he killed your parents when he did. My Father is a death-eater, Harry, Voldemort will already know all about me, and my parents too. They chose not to tell me. Harry we are in deep trouble here}.

{Back up a minute, I’m not sure I understand. How do your parents know?}. Draco read off the page, “‘The chylde is dowsed by the mydwyfe at birth to finde any magickal powers of an unusual nature’, gods, this old fashioned English is a nightmare, basically dowsing at birth gives too many false positives, so a note is made of the special children and they are dowsed again at two. In those days, a local mediwitch or wizard did the job, but now it’s the Ministry and the Aurors. I would have been dowsed at birth. You too. I will have received a second one, Harry, but you were prevented from it, being sent to live with your step-parents who knew nothing of these things”.

Harry chewed his lip as Draco spoke. “Then, why didn’t they tell you, Dragon?. I thought you got training from birth or something”. Draco sent, not trusting his voice.{I’ve no idea why I wasn’t told, but I suspect that my parents had already cast about discreetly for a bond-mate, but they would have only accepted a pure-blood. My Father works at the Ministry, remember. He would certainly have had access to my files and any others he could lay his hands on. Voldemort knows about you, Harry, and he’ll know about me, but as long as we both remained in the dark, then we could not become this force of nature that the books predict. It nearly worked. We were at each other’s throats for six out of our seven years here}.

Harry looked down, thoughtful, {So if we had known from being young, would we have bonded at eleven or something?}. Draco sniggered, {No way, either my parents would have shipped me off to Durmstrang, or taken out a killing contract on you. Either way, we would never have been allowed to come near each other. I think Voldemort knows about us, or at least that there may be a possibility of us and realises that it’s merely a matter of time before the call pulls us together. My parents don’t know about you, Harry, maybe my Father did not find any information about you. They don’t want me to be special. If there were no rumours of a bond-mate for me, perhaps they saw no point in having me trained. Just to take my father’s place in due course, and carry on our obsequies to that madman}.

{So various folk know we’re Telempaths. Let’s hope like hell Voldemort doesn’t realise we’ve bonded. Remember, it’s in his best interests to keep us unrealised and apart}.

Harry was really worried now, {How are we going to keep quiet about everything?}. Draco snorted, {This is a school, Harry. The Ministry is about to get involved. The only option is to keep us safe. We will not be able to hold the lid on this for much longer. Already the place is rife with speculation and innuendo, and the further down the food chain, the wilder it gets}.

A sigh escaped Harry as the truth sunk in, {Not to mention, when you start to show}. Draco nodded slowly, {Harry, I think we’re going to have to resign from lessons for a bit, or cut down severely. Finish off next year. For a start, I’m having a real struggle keeping up. I know you think I’m just being a lazy skiver, but I do get really tired. The book says I should rest as much as I can. Not forgetting the strain on me from this not being natural to my gender at all. At least girls have everything in place to start with. I’ve had to grow it from scratch. Then at some point, we’re going to have to take on this extra training, and catch up with stuff we should have known from childhood. It’s all getting a bit much for me. I need to slow down a bit}

Harry took Draco into his arms, touching their foreheads together, {Then we shall. We’ll go and speak to Dumbledore tomorrow}. A polite knock in mid-air announced Dobby’s presence, who cleared a barely touched meal away. {I think we need to know more, Harry, so this evening, we take a book apiece and start reading}. Draco hefted the large volume onto the arm of the sofa, and lay on his front to read. Harry sat on the floor leaning against the couch, his nose buried in the pregnancy guide, his elbow on the seat, his head leaning on his hand. He glanced up, at his lover’s broad back gracefully curved, the delicacy of Draco’s ankles crossed in mid-air, his legs bent at the knee, the long finely-boned feet, the high arched insteps.

{Harry, we’re supposed to be reading. We need to find stuff out}. Harry grinned, busted. {I know, but I’m only looking. You’re a bloody work of art, Dragon, and I love you so much}. Draco sighed, and closed the book, placing it carefully on the floor. He turned on to his side, and patted the sofa cushions in front of him, leaning up on one elbow. Harry needed no further encouragement. He laid down his book, hopping up on the couch to lay down face to face with his Dragon. Their arms, legs and lips all tangling together.

Draco rolling them so he was under Harry, {Make love to me, my Lion. I want you inside me}. Harry a little tentative, {Are you sure, my love, after the poking around you had to suffer this morning?}. He felt his beloved open beneath him in reply, and complied, going slowly, gently, slicking them both, entering his beloved, feeling the wet heat, sliding in and out, stroking Draco’s sweet spot with feather-light nudges. Draco refused Harry’s touch to his cock, he was letting Harry take him to the brink, in that uniquely slow burning way he had, and Draco revelled in every moment, every slow thrust, until he burst over his own belly, then felt Harry softly explode inside him.

As their breathing approached something like normal, Draco sent, {Considering you were a virgin, Harry, where did you learn to be so good at sex?}. Harry nuzzled Draco’s neck, {Dunno, love, it’s just you. You’re my other half, Dragon. You.}, Harry didn’t quite trust his vocal chords right now. Draco kissed him, glowing in the aftermath, and by the dying light of the fire, {I truly love you, Harry Potter, and nothing will ever change that}.

Harry suddenly twisted in Draco’s arms. Draco sent, {What?, lover, tell me}. He held Draco’s hand, bringing it towards his face, under his hair, laying Draco’s palm over his scar, {I never allow anyone to touch me there}. Draco replied, {I know, and I have never ventured there. Harry this is an honour}. Harry shook his head slightly, {Dragon, you are my bond-mate, my soul-mate. The honour is all mine}. Draco leaned in and kissed Harry’s scar, leaving a trail of gentle kisses along each zig and zag. They held each other, bathed in love and warmth. Draco laid a casual heat charm, as they drifted towards sleep, sated, replete, happy.

xxxxxxx

They surfaced mid-morning, Harry coaxing more pleasure from his Dragon in the bath, even as Draco’s skilful fingers drew moans and sighs from his Lion.

Eventually they could bear to part more than a few inches. They dried each other and dressed. Draco in full school uniform. Harry in jeans and t-shirt. Harry shook his head at his lover, {Lose the uniform. I’ll keep my eyes shut}. Draco changed. {Jeans are a bit tight, babe, around the waist}. Harry couldn’t help grinning, running his hand over Draco’s belly, feeling the slight swell. {Let’s go}. They left their eyrie. They walked slowly all the way to Dumbledore’s study, deep in conversation, tuning out the speculative ‘oohs’ and ‘aaahs’ that followed their progress.

Seated in their Headmaster’s office, tea and biscuits before them, they discussed their findings and fears from the previous night, then asked to resign from school for the year.

Dumbledore steepled his hands and gazed at the boys levelly over his glasses, as he considered all that they said. “I must admit to being extremely reluctant at taking you away from your studies altogether, but I appreciate you may need a reduction in your workload, especially you, Draco. As you approach your time, you will tire easily. Draco nodded, “I tire easily now, sir”. Dumbledore noticed that despite their glow, Draco had shadowy smudges under his eyes that gave the truth to this.

“There are also many practical lessons that could harm an unborn child. You should not be near Advanced Potions, Transfiguration practicals, and Defence Against The Dark Arts”. Dumbledore had the boys’ timetables before him, “But you should be able to continue with Arithmancy, Astronomy and History of Magic this year, and sit your NEWTS at the appropriate time. If you have time spare, there is no harm in working on essays that contribute to your overall results. Harry you could complete this year and...”, he was cut off by Harry shaking his head vehemently. “With all due respect, Professor, we’ve promised each other that nothing will part us more than a few feet until the baby is born. And if these classes are dangerous to Draco, then I too, will not do them until next year”.

Dumbledore smiled. He could feel uncertainty pour off the boys. “I need to have a word with your Heads of House. I will come and see you both in a day or two. Boys, on an unrelated matter, we need to think of a way to present your current situation to the school. As you are no doubt aware, the gossip is like a brush fire. There are even folk who are convinced that one of you has the other under an Imperius curse. There are those who imagine you under house arrest for some misdemeanour, do you see what I mean?”

They all sat, momentarily lost in thought. Harry and Draco telegraphed their fears to each other. Draco’s face paling. Harry felt the lights dim, as he glanced sideways, seeing Draco crumple. He dived over, catching him, before he hit the floor. {Whoa, Dragon, come back to me, babe}. Draco shook his head, clearing it, {What happened?}. {You fainted. You shouldn’t have missed breakfast, babe}. Harry cradled Draco on the floor, {Are you all right?. Can you get back to the flat?}. Draco nodded, a little colour returning. Harry helped him to his feet. He smiled apologetically to his Headmaster, “Sorry, sir, he needs some food, erm, we, erm, missed breakfast. I need to get him back...”. Dumbledore nodded. “I will see you in a day or two, and we will find answers, Harry. Trust in us. We mean only the best for you both, but you have to realise, that this situation is unprecedented in Magical History. We are all feeling our way here”. Harry nodded, a small smile playing with his lips, as he turned and led his tired Dragon from the study, Draco leaning heavily against him.

xxxxxxx

The next two weeks passed quickly. Their workload had been reduced, and Draco felt happier at the amount of downtime he had, resting and sleeping as much as possible, and eating for two without putting on one extraneous pound, his belly mounding slightly, he had to leave his jeans button open. Draco had a problem. So far this baby was an it. An abstraction that made him tired and ill. Harry seemed to accept his pregnancy as a child, but Draco was unsettled. He communicated his feelings to Hermione a few nights later. Draco craved Hermione’s sharp brain, to chew things over with. An understanding had grown between them. Luckily Hermione’s crush had diminished, and she started to see him as a great friend.

She pondered his latest worries, chewing the inside of her cheek. “Draco, I need to make a couple of phone calls. Let me get back to you on this one”. Draco was confused. Already, he knew, that when Hermione had her problem-solving head on, that the problem was going to be bloody well solved. Secretly, he trusted her totally.

As good as her word, she came up to their flat two days later. Harry and Draco were sitting on their sofa, she sat on the floor, cross-legged before them. “Draco, how would you like to see your baby?”. The boys were stunned. Draco whispered, “How do you mean, see?”.

Hermione grinned, “That book I gave you, did it not mention ‘scans’?”. Both of them gave her their full attention, “Yes”, Draco replied, “But I had no idea what they were talking about, to be honest”. Hermione grinned. “not all Mundane inventions are crude. St. Mungo’s doesn’t have one, I checked, but in most Muggle hospitals, they have an Ultrasound Scanning Machine, that can show you a picture on a computer screen. You see your baby in your belly, and because it’s sound waves that they use, it does the baby no harm. The images are a bit fuzzy, but if the angle is right, you can tell the sex of the baby”.

Draco’s eyes were wide, “I want one of these scan things. Does it hurt?”. “No, but I believe the gel they rub on your belly is a bit cold”. Draco boggled at her, “What. How?”. Hermione grinned. “I phoned my mum. She’s a dentist, but uses ultrasound all the time. She works in a dental clinic attached to a hospital. She knows the situation is a bit, shall we say, unusual, but she’s more than willing. Call it my belated Christmas present to you both”. She sat back, grinning. “You’re just past twelve weeks now, Draco, you can Floo if you’ve got the Potions. We could Floo to Diagon Alley and take a train from London. The whole thing would take best part of a day”. Draco slid to the floor, taking Hermione into his arms. “Thanks ‘Mione”. Unconsciously using her diminutive. Just then she would do anything for these two. She winked at Harry over Draco’s shoulder. Harry winked back.

“The potions?”, Draco queried, pulling away. Harry took Draco’s hand, helping him rise, led him over to his Potions project. Two glass bottles, one filled with a pink liquid, one with green. {Two drops of pink before Flooing, two of green afterwards, stops you feeling nauseous, or as nauseous}. Hermione thought that was so sweet. These simple potions were usually brewed by a husband for his pregnant wife, then realised that this situation was so similar

They knew they were taking risks sneaking out of school, but they managed to slip out with a party of sixth formers going to Hogsmeade, splitting off from them and making for the public Floo. One by one, they grabbed a handful of the powder, let it fall, enunciating, ‘Diagon Alley’, and were gone.

As they landed in the public Floo port. Harry and Hermione simply stood, dusting themselves off. Draco felt awful as they arrived, going green. They helped haul him to his feet, he sipped his potion, feeling better in an instant, sent {Love you, thanks}, and passed into Muggle London with nary a problem. Making their way to the train station. Draco in an alien world, Harry and Hermione completely at home with the idea of buying train tickets and dodgy station buffet sandwiches, cups of strong coffee. A Muggle treat that made him dizzy and lightheaded. Hermione couldn’t resist a lightly barbed comment, “These purebloods. Don’t know they’re born, do they?”, as she witnessed Draco’s confusion. Harry laughed. They were on Hermione and Harry’s ground now, and, boy, wasn’t she teasing him for it.

Soon they were on a train, speeding westwards from London. Hermione debarked them and ran headlong into a pair of arms spread wide for her, the face atop them a mirror of her own, twenty years down the road. Hermione introduced her two friends. Her mother slightly stunned, as they all piled into the car and headed for the hospital. Rachel Granger ushered them all into the scanning suite and locked the door.

Draco breathed deeply as he reclined on the bed. Rachel undid a bit more of his jeans’ zip as he raised his t-shirt, secretly amazed that a male was capable of carrying a child. She switched the machines on, waiting for the computer to boot. Hermione reassuring her mum, “We know this is strange, mum, but trust me. I always said that things in the Wizarding world are weird. This is one of them”. Rachel laughed, and turned the screen towards herself.

She spread gel on Draco’s belly. He gasped at just how cold it was. She moved the scanner head over his belly, pressing, but not too hard. Draco accustomed himself to the feeling, and relaxed. Rachel turned the screen from Hermione and Harry, as she built the image. “It should be the, er, mother who sees first”, she smiled at them. She adjusted the bed so that Draco was sitting up, then turned the monitor to him. He gasped. His knuckles flying into his mouth. His other hand reached out to the screen. His eyes widened and teared as he watched, his face lit with the ethereal glow from the screen. As his fingertips stroked the screen, he sent, {Harry, come here and see this}. Harry moved around to see an indistinct image moving around. Draco pointed, brushing the screen, {Look, there!. That’s her head, and her arms}, he giggled, his other hand instinctively covering his belly, {She’s got her fists in the air, Harry, a fighter}. Rachel and her daughter exchanged looks. Hermione shrugged, “They’re talking to each other, telepathically. They’ll tell us eventually”.

Draco was fascinated, as was Harry, who sent, {Her?. She?. Maybe you can see this image better, but I can’t tell. How do you know?}. Draco stroked his tummy, {Dunno. I’ve sort of known for weeks}. Harry turned to his lover, completely nonplussed, then returned his gaze to the screen. Draco stroked the image of the baby’s head, tears flowing down his face. He sent, {Cariad}. Harry looked curious, {What does that mean?}. Draco sent back, {Your mother’s name was Lily?}. Harry nodded. Draco continued to stroke the image on the screen, his eyes alight with wonder, {Cariad means ‘love’ in Welsh}. His inner voice dropped to a whisper, {How about Cariad Lily Malfoy-Potter?. How does that sound?}. Harry leapt on him, hugging him with main force, squeezing him dry of breath. They held each other, weeping joyful tears.

Harry extended a hand to a confused Hermione, inviting her to view the image, “’Mione, meet Cariad Lily Malfoy-Potter, our baby girl”. Hermione felt her eyes fill. Her mother turned away, turning on a machine. A printer. A moment later, she pressed a print into Draco’s hand. He stood and held her tight. “Thank you, Mrs Granger. This means the world to me”. She handed him some paper towels to clean himself. “The pleasure was all mine. Although I will not say a word of this, it will go down as being one of my more unusual medical encounters”. Harry couldn’t help himself. He exclaimed, “You mean you’ve had weirder patients than a pregnant bloke needing a scan?”. Rachel just shrugged and laughed, “Doctor-Patient confidentiality”, as she tapped the side of her nose.