Unlikely Beginnings

Draco and Harry followed their Potions master briskly down the footpath. Snape had slowed down quite a bit from his earlier pace now that a horde of Death Eaters and a manic Dark Lord weren't hot on their trail. Draco assumed it was from exhaustion. They had been moving non-stop for the last thirty or so minutes, heading to an area Snape seemed to know, but hadn’t mentioned to Draco. Harry was moving ever slower, the stress becoming almost too much for him. Draco understood the need to be quick, but if their baby continued to grow at such a rapid rate, he’d wager Harry would be giving birth in a few days’ time.

The boys almost ran into Snape when he stopped suddenly, dark eyes staring ahead. Snape grumbled to himself at seeing the one person he hadn’t been expecting to see, at least until tomorrow. Lupin hadn’t seen them coming toward him, as he had been looking in the opposite direction. Snape recovered and marched down the footpath with his two charges behind him. It wasn't until he heard someone clearing their throat beside him that he turned around. At seeing Severus, Remus opened his mouth to inquire what had happened when he received a heated glare from the Potions master. His mouth immediately snapped shut. Obviously, someone wasn't in the mood for an interrogation.

Remus turned his head to look at Harry when he heard the boy’s labored breathing, trying to get a breath in, and sat down, with the help of Draco, onto the bench beside where Lupin had been standing around, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. With the boys settled, or as settled as one can be with the threat of the Dark Lord on his arse, Snape gave one last sneer at Remus before turning and Apparating away to God knew where.

Lupin sighed quietly before moving to where the two boys sat. “Come on, let’s get you two inside. Maybe get a cuppa while we’re at it,” Remus posed, helping Harry up from the bench, as they were too caught off guard at the moment to do anything but look at their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. As soon as Harry had risen from the bench, Lupin ushered them into the tavern, thankfully void of any Death Eaters at the moment.

As they made their way towards the tavern and past the threshold until they were actually standing inside the building itself, Lupin noticed that Harry seemed peculiarly more out of breath than he had been previously, when he had first caught sight of the two boys. His amber eyes looked down at the vicinity of Harry’s stomach when he felt it bump into his side. He barely held back his look of surprise, seeing Harry with a very round, very pregnant belly. The last time Remus had seen the two of them, Harry’s stomach had still been rather flat, and that had only been a few days ago. He didn’t know what all had happened; he just hoped he could get the answers to his questions before they had to move out again.

Draco followed sedately after the two men in front of him, peering cautiously around them for any unwanted surprises. His grey eyes landed back on Harry and Lupin, and he kept glaring at the hand on Harry’s arm that Lupin had taken to holding to pull them into the tavern. He had been too worried and surprised to put any thought in their destination earlier, but now that he had the time to cool down and not run like a dog with its tail between its legs, he had time to think. They had come all this way, spent all this time making their way to Durmstrang and for what?

When they’d met up with Snape the first time, he had told them to go hide in a damn broom cupboard--or supply cupboard, or whatever the hell it was they had slept in. Then, they had been left to fend for themselves while Snape did whatever he had to do that was so important. They’d maybe spent a total of ten minutes speaking with their professor before doing absolutely nothing constructive. What the hell? This whole trip had been nothing but a waste of time and energy. Draco was pretty damn sure that if and when they finally got back to Hogwarts, they would both more than likely be expelled for their idiotic behavior. Why in God’s name had he gone along with Potter’s spur-of-the-moment world tour in the first place?

Though thinking back on it, Draco realized their trip had had some reasoning behind it. He and Harry had gotten to know each other a little better. They weren’t fighting as much as they once had before the trip, and Draco found himself steadfastly protecting Harry (who he knew really didn’t need the protection, since he could take care of himself, usually) and their unborn child. It had to be a biological thing that was happening to him, making him want to care for Harry and protect him. Before he found out Harry was carrying his child, which he couldn’t help but notice now as Harry had continued to get larger as the days worn on, he didn’t care either way about Harry, except to wonder when he’d be able to find the time to stick his cock up the Gryffindor’s arse again.

Draco was brought out of his thoughts when they came to a semi-secluded table towards the back of the tavern. Remus waved at the barkeep, making complicated hand gestures to let the barkeep know what he wanted. The scruffy man nodded and went about fixing their drinks. Harry and Draco kept their hoods up, making sure their faces were completely hidden from the other patrons of the pub. After a few moments, the bar maiden came by with their drinks, (three butterbeers). Remus then threw a few gold Galleons at her, letting her know they’d prefer to be alone for the rest of the day. The bar maiden nodded and went on about her business; she had other customers to deal with and wasn’t offended in the least.

As soon as they were left to their own devices, Lupin turned so he was facing his two charges. “We should be safe here for the time being,” he began lowly, pausing to take a hearty swallow of his butterbeer. “This is the last place they’d expect you two to be at. With the Dark Lord presumably angry at your escape, he might be unable to focus on Harry’s whereabouts. I reckon he’s more concerned about his Death Eaters and Professor Snape, which is why he didn’t stay,” Lupin said, taking another sip of his drink.

He breathed out deeply, hoping Severus would be alright. He hadn’t had a chance to even let the Potions master know how he felt about him, and he really wanted to do so as soon as the situation would allow. If Severus didn’t return his affections, he’d understand; he’d be hurt of course, but he’d understand. After a moment of silence, Lupin began, “Professor Snape told me of a place we can go where we’d be safe for the night, or for most of it, at least.”

Harry nodded idly, still engrossed in his warm butterbeer. Draco took a sip of his own butterbeer, eyeing the patrons warily. He looked over as Harry sighed, unfastening his cloak and shifting in his seat, hand falling to his belly. Lupin curiously looked over at the movement near his elbow, watching in a daze as Harry rubbed circles on his expanded belly. Leaning over, Lupin moved his hand near Harry’s stomach. “May I?” he asked, placing his hand on the mound of Harry’s child at the boy’s nod of encouragement, lightly touching, a soft smile coming to his lips as he felt the life inside Harry moving and shifting.

Draco frowned at Lupin pawing at Harry as he was. He couldn’t help but glare heatedly as he watched Lupin murmuring at Harry’s stomach before pulling back with a smile on his face and reaching to take a drink of his butterbeer. Draco's fingers tightened on the neck of his butterbeer bottle; it was a miracle in itself that it didn’t shatter beneath the crush of his fingers. He wanted to jump up from his seat and yank Harry away from Lupin when the dark-haired boy leaned his head against Lupin’s side, closed his eyes, and sighed.

Harry had been so worried that he’d splinch himself going to Lena, but thankfully that hadn’t happened. He knew it wouldn’t be the last time he’d have to Apparate in a hurry, but it still worried him. Usually he had a few moments to picture Draco in his head before disappearing, but if he did have to go quickly, would he be able to without messing it up?

“Where are we going and how exactly are we going to get back without getting killed?” Draco asked with a bite to his tone, glowering at Lupin, who still had Harry latched onto him like a nymphet.

“I’m not sure, but I trust Professor Snape to come back and give us an idea of where to go next,” Remus replied, unaware of the looks of death Draco was giving him. “The Death Eaters are more than likely scouring the continent, looking for the two of you at the moment.”

Lupin was interrupted from saying anything further when a loud ‘pop’ was heard next to their table and Snape came bearing down on them. “Follow me,” he tersely demanded, walking away from their table and moving towards a dark, secluded part of the tavern. The others got up, Harry needing a hand from Draco to maneuver from the table without tripping over the legs of his chair; (Draco felt a smug satisfaction that Harry was leaning on him and not Lupin), and made their way to where Snape was standing, impatiently waiting for them. Once the three of them made it to Snape, he closed his eyes and Disapparated, leaving the three of them to follow suit.

@>*~

They arrived outside the entrance to what looked to be a hotel. Harry was surprised to see a few familiar landmarks. He couldn’t remember where exactly they were, but he knew he and Draco had been in the area while they’d been on their way to Durmstrang. Harry looked around, but Snape was nowhere to be found. He assumed that Snape had Apparated somewhere else right before they’d arrived, presumably to keep Voldemort and the Death Eaters from locating them so quickly.

Remus looked around to see where they were, seeing the hotel behind them as he turned. He walked towards the door, opening it, walking through, waiting for the boys to follow him inside before he went up to the desk clerk and requested a room. They didn’t have time for him to be picky in sleeping arrangements, so he took the first room the concierge gave him the key for.

They took the lift to their floor, walking down the hallway until they got to their room. Once inside, Lupin pulled his wand out and placed as many barriers and Locking Spells as he knew around the room to keep anyone from coming in while they slept.

There was only one bed in the room, and Lupin opted to sleep in the chair and let the boys have the bed, since Harry needed it more than he did. And he knew that Harry would need the comfort of having Draco close by, whether they were a couple or not. He could see the way Draco kept looking at him like he was a bug to be squashed under his boot heel. For what reason, he didn’t know, but he opted not to say anything to get the blond boy any angrier than he already seemed to be.

Harry sat down on the bed, ‘oomping’ a little at the awkward sprawl he found himself in. He had to spread his legs wider than he usually did to accommodate his large belly. It felt like his belly was trying to take over his entire front by getting in the way of everything. He felt like, and probably looked like, a straw that had a pea stuck in the middle of it. He was still quite skinny, except for the small bulge hanging off of him. With a little sigh, he removed the cloak he’d taken from Durmstrang, then his own robes, pausing a moment as his arm got stuck in the sleeves, then he leaned back a bit as he brought his leg up to remove first one shoe, then the other.

Draco also sat on the bed, across from Harry in his usual spot he always seemed to find himself in when they were in a hotel room. He had turned when he heard a slight grunt come from the other boy when he had taken his shoes off. Harry hadn’t taken his shirt off, only his sweater, so Draco followed suit, keeping his own shirt and trousers on. They did have another person in the room, and Draco really didn’t feel like stripping down to his skivvies in front of their professor. He felt like growling when he saw Harry heave himself off the bed and waddle (because that was the only way one could describe the way Harry had made his way over) to Lupin.

Lupin looked up when Harry was standing in front of him, surprised when the boy awkwardly got down to his knees and placed his head on Remus’ knee. Harry’s face pointed towards the bed, sighing as Lupin hesitated only a moment before petting Harry’s head. Draco growled low in his throat, but not loud enough to be heard, before he stormed off to the loo to take a piss and maybe break something, preferably over Lupin’s head.

When Draco was finished with his business, he found Harry in bed with the covers over him. He looked to Lupin, who shrugged and explained, “He fell asleep, so I levitated him to the bed and pulled the covers over him.” Draco nodded stiffly and made a show of getting into bed himself. It took him a few moments to actually fall asleep. He knew he really shouldn’t be so jealous of Harry wanting Lupin’s attention. There hadn’t been anything sexual whatsoever about the way Harry was acting, but it irked him nonetheless to have his supposed lover seek comfort from someone who wasn’t him. Maybe he just thought of Lupin as a father figure, and he would have done the same thing if his father had been there instead.

Draco finally fell asleep, Harry having rolled over and snuggled into his side as he usually did. Lupin had opted to stay awake for a little while longer, just making sure nothing out of the ordinary happened, like say, a few dozen Death Eaters, or the Dark Lord himself, storming the room.

@>*~

It had been a long time since the sitting room of the Burrow had seen such a large number of occupants, and none of them sporting red hair. Molly bustled into the sitting room, carrying in refreshments from the kitchen. Order members were strewn about the house, looking quite bored really, but with worried expressions on their faces nonetheless. There was a sudden crash from upstairs as Tonks made her way to the others, sheepishly apologizing for the mess she had made.

Albus Dumbledore sat back, worrying his beard, brow furrowed as he listened to Shacklebolt report on what he'd been told from reliable spies and informants. Dumbledore had managed to get some Portkeys in order to get them back at a moment’s notice. He didn’t think it was likely they would find them, Harry and Draco and Remus and Severus, but it was always worth the chance.

Dumbledore was distracted, thinking of the boys, hoping they were safe, since even he didn’t know everything that happened in the world, although he wished he did most times, especially times like these. He looked up when Molly offered him something from the refreshment tray; he waved her off, not feeling up to eating at the moment. He tuned back in to the noises around him, catching the tail end of Shacklebolt’s report.

“…my informants tell me they haven’t heard, nor seen anything regarding the two boys.”

@>*~

“Harry. Harry, come on, son; wake up.”

Harry blurrily opened his eyes at the touch to his shoulder. He was confused for a few moments as he woke up, wondering where he was. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he took a long moment to sit up, having to use his hand to brace himself against the bed as he sat up sideways, and grabbed his glasses from the side table, placing them onto his face. “What…” he began, breaking into a yawn. “What’s going on?”

“Professor Snape will be here any minute,” Remus said worriedly, perhaps even with a hint of urgency, turning to head into the loo and do his business.

Harry didn’t like the worried tone in Lupin’s voice, but he had no other choice than to put faith in what his friend was saying. Harry sighed and shook his head; getting up from the bed was a chore in and of itself, but he finally managed it. He picked up his clothes from off the floor and got dressed.

Draco had woken up not long before Harry had. He had heard Lupin scuttling about the room, moving towards the bed and shaking Harry awake. Draco hadn’t opened his eyes until Harry had begun to dress. He hadn’t been surprised Lupin had chosen Harry to wake up instead of himself, since Lupin hadn’t been sure how Draco would’ve taken it.

Draco had felt oddly detached about the entire situation since they left Durmstrang. He wasn’t used to having another person with he and Harry while they had traveled around the world as it were. Lupin had been the first person to even be in the same room with them alone, and it bugged him, not knowing what to think, or what Lupin himself was thinking.

For all Draco knew, Lupin was probably sitting there, thinking nothing but bad thoughts about him. Lupin probably didn’t want him anywhere near Harry, and he was probably wondering how he could keep Draco from being any more involved in Harry’s life. He couldn’t blame the werewolf; he wasn’t a perfect person, having grown up with his father putting pureblood ideas into his head, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care somewhat for Harry. Look how he’d taken care of Harry on the whole trip to Durmstrang and while they’d been inside the Dark school.

Draco was brought out of his thoughts (glad he had finished dressing while thinking things over) by a forceful knock on the door. Lupin ran to the door, wand in hand as he opened it cautiously. Standing there, glaring heatedly at the werewolf, was Snape, who walked into the room with his robes billowing behind him.

“Good to see you’re all up and dressed,” Snape said without preamble, looking around at everyone in the room. Snape looked tired, but determined. “I’ve been Apparating all over the continent and even further, trying to keep the Death Eaters and especially the Dark Lord from being able to pinpoint my exact location,” he explained, taking a seat at one of the chairs by the window. “I’ve been trying to find a safe location for you three to Apparate to without being noticed.”

“Have you had any problems, Severus?” Remus asked worriedly, hoping the Potions master hadn’t run into anyone or anything to pose a potential threat, whether they worked for the Dark Lord or not.

Snape sighed quietly. “None so far. I have run into a few snags along the way, but nothing to worry about. It wouldn’t have been such a problem if the Dark Lord himself weren’t actively searching for me,” he replied, closing his eyes as exhaustion hit him for a moment. He couldn’t rest though, not until everyone was safely back at Hogwarts. He gasped lightly to himself, barely audible in the room as his Dark Mark began burning more fiercely than the day before. The Dark Lord was very serious about finding where he was: he kept sending messages to his followers and extraordinary pain to him via the mark on his forearm. It took all of Snape’s strength to ignore the burning sensation and to try and keep the Dark Lord out of his mind.

“Lupin, I need you to report to Dumbledore. Tell him all that has happened. I’ll stay here and take these two to the spot I found where they should be safe for a little while.”

Remus nodded, wanting to walk over to Severus, hold him in his arms and never let him go. He had no idea if any of them would make it back to the safety of the school or if they’d be found and killed on sight. He just couldn’t make his feet walk over to the man he had feelings for, and kiss his breath away. Remus opted for staring Severus in the eyes instead, giving the Potions master a look he hoped conveyed what he was feeling, but knowing Severus, he would probably mistake it for being scared about the boys. Remus turned on his heel and walked out the door, Apparating back to the school to find Dumbledore and tell him the news.

@>*~

Voldemort was back at Durmstrang where it was easier for him to conduct his affairs and keep track of his followers than being out and about in the middle of chaos. He stared off to the side, searching through his Death Eaters’ minds, trying to locate a certain one. Aha! After finding the person he wanted, his eyes came back into focus and he called forth the person he’d been looking for via the Dark Mark.

Wormtail felt the call in his mark and Apparated quickly back to the Dark school, outside of the gates. He quickly made his way to the entrance of the school and through the corridors until he reached the Dark Lord’s door. Clearing his throat, stealing himself, he knocked on the closed door, waiting to be beckoned inside.

Voldemort pulled his wand out of his robes and waved it at the door, opening it and admitting the traitor into his room. “What have you found out, Wormtail?” he asked, fixing his steely gaze on Peter.

Peter took in a steadying breath and scuttled towards Voldemort, bowing and simpering as he went. “My Lord,” he began, keeping his head down, “there has been no sign of Snape or Potter; your followers are still searching, but they are having no luck.”

“What about earlier in Snape’s room? Surely you found something out while you were there listening to his conversation.”

“My Lord, do you not already know?” Peter asked his lord, making an odd, bewildered face at the floor.

“Know what, Wormtail?” Voldemort snapped, losing his patience with the rat.

“Potter is with child, my Lord.”

Voldemort swiftly got up from his chair, blasting one of the sconces off the wall. “Fool!” Peter cowered at this, hoping he wouldn’t be cursed for his useless information. “I know this bit of news already! Is there anything new to tell me, or are you simply wasting my time?” Voldemort snarled, furious at the incompetence of his followers.

“N-No, my Lord, that is all I know,” Peter said, cringing away as Voldemort abruptly turned and went back to sit in his chair; he had repaired it earlier when he had gone back to the school.

Voldemort was slowly losing what little patience he had with how everything was going wrong. His plans were brilliant, no question; it was his followers who couldn’t find their way out of a paper bag if their lives depended on it. Closing his eyes for a moment, Voldemort summoned Lucius to him. It took a few long minutes for the blond man to show up in his room, but he had finally arrived. “My Lord?” Lucius asked, wondering why he was being summoned when he was supposed to be out looking for his son and the others.

“Ah, Lucius: I want you to take Wormtail here with you to your manor. Have him wait there and report back to me if he sees Potter show up.”

“You believe Potter will hide out at my home?” Lucius asked skeptically. He wasn’t sure why the Dark Lord thought Potter would show up at his place, unless Draco thought it’d be a good hiding place, but he didn’t think his son was that stupid… or was he?

Voldemort leaned back in his chair. “I’m not discounting anything at the moment, Lucius,” he replied, looking at Lucius with an appraising eye. “I want you to go out and search any places you think Snape would turn up, thinking it safe to do so. Do not fail me, Lucius.” Voldemort was sure Potter and the others would be found. There was no place on the planet that they were safe from him. Even Hogwarts wasn’t all that safe, having less defensive protection than Durmstrang.

“My Lord,” Wormtail suddenly spoke up, getting the Dark Lord’s full attention. “My Lord, Dumbledore is aware of what is happening and is getting together members of the Order to help in searching for Potter.”

Voldemort narrowed his eyes at Peter. “Can you enlighten me, Wormtail,” Voldemort began, voice steadily rising into a bellow, “as to why you are just now telling me this vital piece of news, when I had asked if you knew anything else?”

Peter finally glanced up at his lord, a confused look on his face. “But...you asked about Snape, my Lord. Not Dumbledore...”

He pierced Wormtail with the blackest of looks, but he couldn't be too hard on the rat: after all, he wasn't the brightest crayon in the box. At least, Voldemort didn't think he was. It could have all been a ruse, since he’d been able to fool his friends into thinking he was on the side of good. Voldemort took a moment to call his followers back since that interfering man, Dumbledore, was no doubt sending out his own followers and Voldemort needed to regroup for a moment. It took a while for the Death Eaters to arrive, and Voldemort frowned as he sensed something from a few of the others who hadn’t arrived yet.

“Lucius!” Voldemort called, standing up from his chair and rounding on the blond man.

“My Lord?”

“Where are the rest of the Death Eaters? A few of my followers are not obeying my summons,” he informed, looking right at Lucius. Lucius had to be involved in this somehow; the Death Eaters followed only two people: him and Lucius.

“I don’t know, my Lord. They should be coming back,” Lucius said, staring into the Dark Lord’s eyes. He knew where they were, of course he knew, but he wasn’t going to say. He had his own plans in the works, and he sure didn’t want Voldemort messing with them.

Voldemort threw his head back, screaming loud enough to shake the very foundation of the school as he turned and blasted the closest thing to him, which happened to be his chair, which he’d just fixed not long ago. “Lucius, what are you playing at? I know you’re involved in this somehow, and I will not stand by and let some aristocratic blond idiot betray me!”

“My Lord,” Lucius calmly replied, “I don’t know what you are going on about. I had nothing to do with your followers not obeying orders. I have been out searching for the Potter boy myself, as you commanded.”

Voldemort gripped his wand tightly, itching to curse Lucius into next week, but he couldn’t if he wanted to get to the bottom of why some of his Death Eaters weren’t obeying him. He’d given them their orders: they had to obey them, or else.

@>*~

Dumbledore paced back and forth within his office, pausing occasionally to look at the sun rising outside his window, casting orange and red light as it crested into the sky. Dumbledore was worried he wouldn’t be able to lend a hand to stop Tom this time. He wasn’t sure if he should find Harry before the boy returned to Hogwarts.

Albus was trying to stay out of Harry’s life, letting the boy find his own way towards becoming an adult. The boy needed his guidance occasionally, but was it needed this time? Harry hadn’t told him about the child he carried within him, keeping it to himself, even though he knew that Dumbledore was a master at Legilimency and would have found out anyway just by looking into Harry’s eyes.

He knew Harry was quite capable of taking care of himself, with or without the help of others, but was it his fault if he had a fondness for the boy? As if Harry were his grandson, and he, the grandfather. Dumbledore stopped for a moment to look at Fawkes, petting the Phoenix adoringly as he trilled softly at his master and friend. Dumbledore turned as his office door was opened, seeing Remus standing just inside, quietly.

“Ah, Remus,” Dumbledore greeted, smiling brightly at his fellow professor. Remus sighed and turned, shutting the door.

@>*~

After Apparating from Lena, they found themselves outside the gates of a huge mansion. Its graying walls, unkempt lawns and vines creeping along the outside showed that it had not been in use for years, maybe even decades. It seemed somewhat familiar to Draco as he glanced around the front of the mansion, squinting to try and see if he could spot anything amiss, but all seemed quiet.

Harry got up from his knees, with the help of Draco, as he finished puking. It seemed he’d never get over puking after Apparating until after he had the baby; at least he hoped it was only from being pregnant. If this happened while he wasn’t pregnant, he didn’t think he’d ever Apparate again in his life. He much preferred using a broom to travel, anyway.

Snape walked up to the gates, glad to find them unlocked and barely hanging onto the adjoining masonry, making it easy to push them open, admitting them onto the grounds. He walked up the front path, Harry and Draco following behind him. Once they reached the front door, Snape used his wand to unlock it; they opened into the front parlor with an ominous squeak, clouds of dust and cobwebs falling to the floor after at last being disturbed.

Harry looked around, hearing the heels of his shoes making loud clicks on the dirty marble floor as he walked. Draco inhaled through his nose as he recognized without a doubt where they were. Turning to Snape, he asked, “This is one of the abandoned Malfoy mansions, isn’t it?”

“Yes. This one’s in Germany,” Snape replied, walking further into the old mansion, passing portraits as he did so.

“Wer ist dort?” they heard called from somewhere above their heads. Draco looked up and found it was one of the portraits addressing them. They ignored the portraits as they continued to walk down the hallway.

Harry paused in his step for a moment when the portraits began yelling,

“Du bist unverheiratet und läßt es zu, dass dich jemand besudelt!”

“Deine Tugend zerstören! Du hattest von Anfang an keine, Schwuchtel!”

“Schmutziger Schlammblüter-Abschaum, Verräter!”

"Schwanger mit einem Bastard!" as they continued down the hallway. Harry didn’t know what the portraits were saying, or shouting as it were, but the way Draco’s shoulders were tensing, it wasn’t anything friendly. He seriously doubted they'd throw in a polite, "Hello, welcome to our mansion!" and at the same time greet him, or someone, with 'bastard'.

Draco was getting angrier and angrier as the portraits continued to shout insults and obscenities at them. Although, it seemed like they were focused more so on Harry than he or Snape. After half a meter, they finally left the hallway and the shouting portraits behind, Draco wanting nothing more than to light the foul portraits of his ancestors ablaze.

The mansion was still protected by old spells that were set about the place, hopefully keeping them safe at least until daybreak when they would have to leave to find a different place to stay. Draco turned to look at Snape, who had stopped at the foot of a staircase, more than likely leading up to rooms in which they could sleep for the night.

“How did you know how to get here?” Draco asked, curious.

Snape didn’t bother to turn and look at Draco as he replied, “Well, I was good friends with your father, but I doubt that would be how to term the relationship now. We used to spend a lot of time together in our youth; even when he left school, we still kept in touch. We used to travel around a lot together: scoured the history books and genealogy to find these places. There are many, and if Lucius has been deployed with the search party, he will no doubt look in many of these places, which would be safe for a little while.”

Draco nodded, not knowing what to say to this explanation, really, and right now he was too tired to say much more. He knew Harry had to be tired too by the way his eyes were barely staying open. It was still early in the day, but they had woken up just as the sun began to rise, so they hadn’t had much sleep before they had to rush off.

They made their way up the staircase, finding a hallway that most likely led to rooms. Draco wasn’t sure if there was still furniture in the rooms, but he’d transfigure his underwear into a bed if he had to so he’d be able to sleep on something besides the dusty floor. He and Harry had their own room to sleep in, while Snape chose the room next to them. The walls were thick enough so if Snape snored while he slept or something, Draco wouldn’t have to stick a sock into his mouth to keep him quiet as he tried to rest.

Draco opened the door to their room, thanking whomever, that there was a bed in the room. It needed a good cleaning before one could sleep on it, so that’s what Draco did as he took out his wand and cast a Cleaning Spell on the bed. Harry had woken up a bit, since that always happened to him. He’d be right about ready to fall asleep and when he was actually on the way to go to sleep, he was wide awake. He was sure it was just nerves making him like that now, but it could be anything for all he knew.

Draco closed the door to their room after cleaning the bed and began to take his clothes off. Since he was tired and since Harry had seen him naked many times already since they began their weird relationship and traveled together for such a long time, he decided to strip down to just his underwear. He knew Harry didn’t care all that much as long as his underwear was clean and he wasn’t singing the Hogwarts school song as he did so.

Harry did likewise, stripping down to his underwear, but he kept his shirt on, thinking that Draco wouldn’t like seeing his large stomach. The last time they had been almost naked and in bed with each other, sleeping or otherwise, Harry’s stomach had still been rather flat. Now though, Harry had a protruding stomach that was on the verge of being able to open doors all on its own. He got into bed on his usual side, but still turning towards Draco when the blond climbed into bed also, and snuggled as much as he could against the blond.

Draco lay there on his back, staring up at the ceiling as he felt Harry’s stomach touching his side while Harry tried to get into his usual position he slept in. He understood why Harry opted to keep his shirt on since he wasn’t too keen on seeing his child moving around inside of Harry’s body just yet. He’d only had maybe two weeks or so to get used to the idea of there actually being a little person there, growing inside of his lover, but to actually see it moving was a whole other can of worms.

He felt Harry’s hand rubbing circles on his stomach, nothing sexual about it, merely doing it for comfort since they hadn’t had a chance the last week to really touch and get connected. When he and Harry had begun having sex with each other, wanted or not, they had pawed one another throughout it. Draco had grown used to having the dark-haired boy with him almost every single day recently and it was going to be hard to sleep by himself again in his own bed, in his own dormitory, once they got back to Hogwarts. He doubted that Dumbledore would let him and Harry share a room, parents to be or no, since they were still in school, and if they were even allowed to finish without getting expelled, he didn’t think the Headmaster was going to toss out rules and regulations just for them; no matter whether Harry got to get away with things or not.

Harry continued rubbing Draco’s bare stomach, enjoying the feel of the soft skin he felt under his hand. He was in the mood for more intimate caresses and sharing of each other’s bodies, but he wasn’t sure how Draco felt about it. Was Harry still attractive, even somewhat, to Draco, or did his larger stomach disgust him now? Harry didn’t really know, but he was prepared to find out. Sitting up awkwardly on his elbow, Harry leaned over to press a soft kiss to Draco’s lips.

Draco didn’t respond at first, but did soon after, opening his mouth to the other boy as Harry slipped a hesitant tongue inside his mouth. Draco raised the hand not underneath Harry and placed it on the back of Harry’s head, bringing him in to lean closer to the blond boy beneath him. Harry sighed happily into the kiss, glad that even if Draco decided not to go any further, he’d at least get to have this before the baby came.

Harry continued the kissing, pulling back when Draco made motions to sit up a moment, pulling his boxers down his hips and legs, and off his feet, flinging them down to the floor on his side of the bed. Harry raised an inquisitive eyebrow and did likewise with his own, although it was awkward for him, since he had this huge belly in the way and could barely see his cock to take a piss, but he managed. Draco moved to grab the hem of Harry’s shirt, to take it off, but Harry grabbed his hands, shaking his head. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep the shirt on. I feel funny having my stomach out for the world to see.” Draco nodded, understanding this and left the shirt alone.

Draco lay back down on his back, gesturing for Harry to come closer to him. Harry smiled down at Draco and resumed their kissing, gasping into Draco’s mouth as he felt him grab his cock. It was weird, grasping the dark-haired boy’s cock and having his stomach almost right on top of his hand as he stroked the length up and down. Harry was glad that their baby decided to either sit still or was asleep, because he didn’t feel any movement at the moment from the little critter inside him when, usually, Harry would suddenly feel a punch to his ribs. Their baby really loved sucker-punching Harry when he did something it didn’t like or he moved in a certain way.

Harry reciprocated the touch, moving his own hand down to Draco’s cock, oozing pre-come and twitching a bit as he moved his hand along the length. Draco sighed quietly into Harry’s mouth, enjoying the feel of the boy holding and squeezing his cock. After a moment or two, Draco pulled away from Harry and bent over the side of the bed, rummaging around inside of their bag, looking for his hand oil. He sat up on the bed, bottle in hand once he found it, and turned to Harry. Harry nodded and got up onto his hands and knees, putting a pillow near his belly to try and keep some of it off of the bed. He frowned when Draco shook his head. “No? Then how do you want me?” Harry asked, raising an inquiring eyebrow at the blond.

“I…” Draco licked his suddenly dry lips, blinking at Harry’s intense stare. “I don’t want to… do you. I…um, I actually want you to do me,” Draco said, blushing slightly. He didn’t normally blush when talking about sex, but for some reason, he felt a bit embarrassed in asking Harry to do this for him, and he was right by the way Harry’s eyes widened in shock; it was almost comical.

“Are you sure?” Harry asked, looking Draco in the eyes to see if the blond boy was taking the piss with him. He hoped Draco wasn’t leading him on, getting his hopes up, only to laugh in his face right before taking Harry from behind, or whatever position he decided to do.

Draco saw the expressions run through Harry’s face as he became lost in his thoughts, waiting for Draco to reply. “I’m sure,” he said, a bit more believably this time, breathing out heavily. He wanted this with Harry, he truly did, but his one and only time as bottom with Blaise hadn’t been all that magical or special. He just hoped that choosing to bottom for Harry would be a better experience this time than it had been last time.

Draco opened his mouth to accept Harry’s insistent tongue when he felt it licking along his lips at his answer, nervous as if it were his very first time ever. Harry seemed to sense his nervousness, leaning over and caressing his body with light touches. Harry sat back on his heels, looking down at the blond boy in awe. Harry scooted down on his arse until he was near Draco’s groin, leaning over it; he blew a hot breath on it, making Draco suck in a sudden breath at the feel. Harry had tried doing this once before, but he’d been so into his own cock down Draco’s throat that he hadn’t finished sucking off Draco.

Harry hoped he was doing this right, since he had been very hesitant the last time. He stuck his tongue out tentatively, licking along the head, causing Draco to gasp at the touch. Harry felt encouraged by the noises Draco was making and lowered his head, taking in as much as he could without choking or gagging. Draco’s eyes closed at the wet, hot heat of Harry’s mouth, growing crazy with each suck the dark-haired boy did on each pull upward.

Soon, Draco couldn’t take it anymore, coming inside Harry’s mouth with a soft keen. Harry had actually blown him, and Draco wasn’t sure what to think, since he knew the Gryffindor had never done it before, to him or anyone, for that matter. Harry pulled back, coughing a little after he swallowed, wanting to stick his tongue out at the nasty, bitter taste of Draco’s come, but he held himself back. If Draco had been able to take it all and not gag or spit it out, so could he; even if the come itself had been revolting, he actually quite liked going down on Draco.

Draco took a moment to get his breathing back under control, moving his hand around the bed near his side until he found the bottle of oil he’d taken from his bag earlier. Harry watched, mesmerized at the sight of Draco oiling up his finger and bringing it down to his hole, pushing it in to stretch himself. Closing his eyes, Draco slipped a second finger into himself, followed by a third not long after, pushing them in as far as they could go in his awkward position. He did this himself because he knew Harry had never done this sort of thing before and he wanted to be totally sure that he was properly prepared before he let anything go up his arse, especially since Harry wasn’t a small boy. He wasn’t overly large or scary, but he was definitely a little bigger than three fingers together, although not by much.

Feeling he had prepared himself long enough (he would never admit that he was stalling for time), Draco lay back down on the bed, onto his back, lifting his legs to his chest, grabbing the backs of his thighs to keep them there. Harry gave Draco an odd look, not sure how exactly this was going to work with him having such a large belly getting in the way and such. Draco looked over at Harry, waiting. “Pour some of the oil into your hand and rub it along your cock,” he supplied helpfully, thinking Harry was hesitating because he didn’t know what to do next.

Harry almost wanted to tell him ‘well, no shit,’ but refrained from doing so. He knew Draco was nervous, as if he was about to get beat about the head with a bat. Harry shifted awkwardly towards Draco’s body, hoping that his stomach wouldn’t get in the way too much; it wasn’t like he could move it over to hang off the side or anything, although he wished he could sometimes: it would make tying the laces of his shoes easier. Grabbing one of Draco’s legs, Harry used his other hand to guide his cock to the entrance of Draco’s body, lining it up to the loose and glistening hole in front of him. Closing his eyes, and taking a deep breath, Harry pushed in slowly, listening for any grunts of pain the boy beneath him might have uttered at the intrusion. Draco took in a deep breath and let it out slowly as he felt Harry pushing his way inside of his body.

It bloody hurt, but Draco refrained from commenting or making any noise aside from his rapid breathing. He looked up briefly to see Harry’s face, eyes closed, lower lip caught between his teeth, before Draco closed his eyes, or he’d have very weird images of seeing his very pregnant lover shagging him. Harry tensed up at the tight feel of Draco’s passage squeezing along his length; he was already so close to coming from the tightness, he had to hold still before he’d had more than half of his cock inside the blond boy. Taking a deep breath, Harry pushed in until he couldn’t anymore, balls resting against Draco’s arse. Draco squirmed a moment, getting comfortable for the shagging he had initiated, well, his shagging, anyway. Harry was the one who had wanted to feel him up.

Harry pulled back slowly before pushing back in. He did this a few times, nice and slow, enjoying the way Draco felt around him, and how he felt being inside Draco. Draco tossed his head back at the feelings building up inside him, not just of being shagged, but also of letting Harry be the one doing the shagging. He was putting a lot of trust in the boy above him, letting him enter his body and control the pace, instead of the other way around. Draco couldn’t help the tears that began flowing down his cheeks: he was still scared even though Harry was taking his time, making sure it was good for Draco each time he thrust his hips. Harry opened his eyes at the little noise that escaped Draco’s lips, pausing to lean down, as much as his stomach would allow, and placing a sweet kiss on his mouth, wiping at the tears on Draco’s cheeks.

Draco never knew it could be like this; he still didn’t like being the one on the bottom, being used for someone else’s pleasure as he lay there taking it. But he now understood what Harry went through every time he allowed Draco into his body, feeling possessed, feeling full, feeling used. No, actually he didn’t feel used, per se, but that he was giving his body over for someone he may not actually have loved, maybe not now, maybe not ever, or maybe in the future, he could learn to love Harry, but right now he felt wanted, and not just for his arse.

“Draco, I can’t hold back any longer, I’m sorry,” Harry said as his thrusting picked up in speed, going faster and harder, impaling Draco on each push forward, drawing back slower then pushing in, feeling each and every little ridge along his length. After a few more of these fast-paced thrusts, he finally came, throwing his head back and crying out as he emptied his essence into the boy beneath him. Draco felt Harry’s come spurt inside of him, but he hadn’t come himself. In fact, he had remained soft the entire time, only a slight rise, only mild interest, from his cock.

Harry didn’t notice Draco’s flaccid cock, pulling out very slowly after he came, until he glanced down and moved to put his mouth onto Draco’s cock. Draco placed a hand on Harry’s head, stopping him. “No, it’s okay, Harry. I came already; don’t worry about it,” he said, looking at Harry. Harry opened his mouth to object, but Draco shook his head. “It’s okay, honestly.”

Harry gave him a skeptical look, but decided not to push the issue. Draco had his reasons and who was he to question them? Tired and feeling very drained, Harry moved until he was on his side of the bed again, lying down on his side, facing Draco. Draco got out of bed, wincing at the slight stab of pain radiating from his arse, to grab a washcloth from the bathroom, using it to clean first himself, and then Harry. He was finally able to get to sleep, for another few hours anyway, before they had to be up and dressed to Apparate to their next, currently unknown, location. Harry closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. Draco soon followed Harry into sleep not long after, content in a way at what he’d given to Harry.

@>*~

Minerva McGonagall seemed distracted. Her students seemed to notice, and periodically turned to give each other quizzical looks. "Professor,” Hermione tentatively called to gain her attention, “weren't you talking about how complex the anatomy of a dog was in relation to transfiguring one into a bookcase?"

McGonagall blinked behind her square spectacles, impassively. "Oh, oh, yes, yes. Thank you, Miss Granger,” McGonagall said ponderingly, shifting through the notes laid out on her desk.

The students watched, murmuring quietly among themselves, as their professor went off subject once more. Hermione quirked an eyebrow at her teacher, wondering what on earth was wrong with their professor, who was more often than not meticulous and tidy with her notes and stern teaching skills, that made her so suddenly flabbergasted.

Hermione thought that perhaps Professor McGonagall was thinking about the situation with Harry, as both she and Ron often did. Earlier in the day, the Headmaster had called her and Ron into his office, telling them what he had found out in the recent reports he’d gathered from other members of the Order. Ron had of course gone into a tizzy, face red, breathing coming out more rapidly as they were told the information. Hermione knew Professor McGonagall was a member of the Order also, and had most likely heard the same news Hermione and Ron had.

Hermione looked up, startled at the mention of her name from Professor McGonagall. True, she hadn’t been paying attention for the last few minutes, but she had already read the entire book they were using for class. “It would take ten minutes for one to transfigure the dog into a bookcase, or any piece of furniture the caster so desired,” Hermione answered, blinking at the sudden frown that appeared on her teacher’s face. Even Ron had given her a funny look.

“I’m sorry, Miss Granger; that answer is not correct. It takes only four minutes for one to do the transfiguration,” McGonagall replied lightly. She didn’t take any points away from Gryffindor since she suspected the reason for this was due to Hermione being preoccupied over the latest information about Potter and Malfoy.

Hermione felt herself blush, close to tears, at having given the wrong answer. To prevent this from happening again, McGonagall refrained from calling on her again unless she put her own hand up in the air. She knew that Hermione knew the correct answer; hence, she hadn’t deducted points.

They spent the rest of the period reading after McGonagall lost her place again. She wanted to toss her hands in the air and exclaim ‘for heaven’s sake!’, but she didn’t, of course. The other students seemed to sense something was going on, but they had no clue as to what. So, wisely, no one said anything or snickered at Hermione for having given the wrong answer. Hermione really hoped Harry was going to be okay, because she couldn’t afford to make another mistake. There were only six months left until they took their NEWTs, and based on today’s dreadful performance, she had a lot of studying to do!

@>*~

Snape woke up as soon as the first rays of light hit the window of the room he’d slept in. He couldn’t believe they had stayed at the old mansion for almost an entire day. He must have been more exhausted and worn out from all the Apparating than he had previously thought. The Potions master almost swore, wondering why Draco hadn’t woken up to get him when he paused in that thought. Of course Draco wouldn’t have woken him up. For one, he hadn’t told the two boys to do so and two: the boys were probably exhausted as much as he had been. Especially since he knew they had only slept on the floor and not in a proper bed while they’d been waiting at Durmstrang.

Snape sat up in bed, reaching for his boots and putting them on to his feet, tying up the laces before he stood up. He opened his door and walked to the room the boys were occupying, knocking harshly. He wasn’t sure what the two boys had or hadn’t done the day before, and he wasn’t looking forward to seeing either boy starkers or possibly in the middle of shagging.

“One moment,” Snape heard Draco’s muffled voice call out, the sounds of feet thumping onto the marble floor and hushed voices coming from behind the closed door reaching his ears. The door opened after a few long (in his opinion) minutes, and Snape saw Draco standing there, out of breath with his hair and clothing all in disarray. He had a red mark on the side of his face, more than likely from the pillow he’d been sleeping on. “Professor?”

“I have to go, but you two should be safe here for a little longer, maybe only a few hours,” Snape said hastily, looking past Draco to see Harry sitting on the bed, looking as sleep-mussed as Draco was.

“Go where?” Draco asked, frowning at the thought of being left alone to fend for themselves.

Snape sighed, eyes falling shut and long fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “I have to Apparate around the country again, look for the next place for you two to stay. The Dark Lord is still searching for us and I need to keep moving so he doesn’t pick up our trail.”

Draco nodded at this, not really liking it, but agreeing nonetheless that it had to be done. Snape gave a curt nod at the blond and walked off down the hall, down the stairs and out the front door, since the old spells woven on the mansion prevented anyone from Apparating in or out of the area.

Draco closed the door once he saw Snape begin his descent down the stairs, and made his way back to the bed. The sight of Harry blinking sleepy eyes at Draco greeted him, Harry only having heard a bit of the conversation with their Potions master. “What’s the plan?” he asked, breaking out into a huge yawn before lying back down onto the bed.

“Snape has to go for a bit, but he said he’d return soon. How soon, I’m not sure, but after everything that’s happened so far, I don’t believe he’d just up and leave us,” Draco replied thoughtfully, lying down himself next to Harry.

Harry nodded, closing his eyes. He was just on the brink of going back to sleep when a sudden thought hit him and he sat bolt upright, or as fast as one could with a large stomach, which had gotten even bigger overnight. He reckoned he was now eight or nine months along. “Draco!” he frantically breathed.

Draco’s eyes snapped open, hand brandishing his wand before Harry had finished Draco’s name. “What? Someone here?” he asked, looking wildly around the room for the source of Harry’s panic.

“No. Draco, yesterday, when we shagged, we didn’t use anything!” Harry said, eyes wide, breathing picking up. What if Draco was pregnant now? What would they do? Oh, God! I’m never shagging anyone ever again!

Draco turned to stare at Harry, wanting to slap the dark-haired boy about the head for scaring the life out of him. After a moment, Draco lowered his wand and took in a breath before replying, “Harry, calm down. Remember when I told you about my first time with Blaise?” he said, waiting for Harry to nod that he had remembered. “After that incident, when I had thought I had been pregnant, but it had actually just been the flu, I began using the Contraceptive Charm every month. Before you, he had been the only one I let shag me, but things could change and situations could arise that would have me bottom or not to another bloke, so I regularly cast the spell on myself, whether or not I have sex.”

Harry sighed in relief, rubbing his belly to calm himself and the baby down, since it had been kicking due to his earlier agitation. He had been scared that he might have gotten Draco pregnant and right now, one was enough. Maybe a few years from now, if they stayed together or not, they might think of having another one, but now was way too early to even be thinking about that possibility. With an understanding nod at Draco, Harry lay back down, closing his eyes, as he grew tired again before drifting off into a light doze.

@>*~

Harry frowned in his sleep as he heard voices whispering fiercely around him. It took him a moment, but he finally opened his eyes when he felt the bed dip behind him, feeling the warmth of a body on his back. Turning his head, he saw Draco leaning over him, poised to wake him up. Draco sat back on his heels when he realized Harry was already awake and staring blankly at nothing in his sleep-induced fog. “Draco?” Harry inquired, wondering what was going on.

“Harry, get up, we have to go,” Draco informed, getting off the bed as Harry sat up, rubbing his eyes. Harry accepted his glasses from the blond boy when he offered them to him.

Harry sighed. Another Apparation? Already? He really wasn’t looking forward to having to Apparate anywhere at the moment since he was half asleep, but he knew they’d have to make their way out of the abandoned mansion and past the gates for them to accomplish it. Harry looked over and saw Snape, arms crossed, blank look on his face, as they waited for Harry to get out of bed.

Once Harry got out of bed (with as much speed as his swollen belly would tolerate), put his shoes on (again, with difficulty), and used the toilet, they made their way out of the mansion and out to the grounds. Harry crinkled his brows together, wondering where they were headed this time. “Professor? Where are we going now?”

“Back to England. We’re going back to Malfoy Manor,” Draco said before an exasperated Snape could open his mouth.

Harry blinked his eyes owlishly and looked around Draco to Snape. “We’re going where?” he asked, piercing Snape with an incredulous look.

“Really, Potter; surely you're not that thick," Snape said, sneering at Harry.

Harry felt faint for a moment, not sure why, really, since except for a few times back in third year when he’d fainted after the Dementors had been too much for him to handle, he’d never done so before. “Are you mad?” Harry all but yelled at both men standing beside him. Snape looked blankly at Harry, before he disappeared from the clearing. Evidently, Snape had gone completely off his rocker. It was bound to happen sometime, Harry thought idly. “Draco? What the hell?”

“Harry, listen to me,” Draco said, his tone mildly placating and more than a little tetchy. He shook Harry’s shoulders lightly. “Snape reckoned it’d be the last place Voldemort would search, thinking we’d have to be completely mental to even attempt to go back to the first place we’d think my father would check.”

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but didn’t get a chance as Draco gave him a look and disappeared, leaving Harry by himself, once again, damn it. “I’m going to curse his arse into the next century!” He yelled out to no one in particular. Not only had both of them gone completely round the bend, but they were Apparating to Draco’s home, where Draco’s mum was most definitely waiting to Avada Kedavra him the second he set foot into her primly perfect pure-blooded palace. But they’d left him alone. Again. He muttered curses at his lover before closing his eyes, picturing the blond--who he wanted to throttle--and disappearing.

@>*~

Harry found himself beside Draco, Snape nowhere to be seen as usual. They figured he was off Apparating all over the continent once more, throwing the Death Eaters off their scent. Draco grimaced and held back from upchucking himself when Harry fell to his knees and threw up all over his boots. He sighed instead, pulled his wand out and banished the vomit off his boots. Finished with his bout of sickness, Harry stood back up with the help of Draco and wiped his sleeve across his mouth. “Sorry,” Harry mumbled; he hadn’t meant to aim at Draco, but he had gotten a little close to Harry before the Gryffindor had had a chance to turn.

Draco pulled Harry along closely as he walked over to the front gates of his home. He said a few words toward the gates, and stood back as the gates swung open. Harry guessed it had been a password of some type before he followed Draco up the front path. Draco stopped in front of the door, pulling his bag forward to rummage around inside for the key. They hadn’t used Locking Spells on the door in the last two years; it had only been him and his mum inside the manor.

Finding the key at last, Draco used it to unlock the door and open it, stepping inside and waiting for Harry to follow before turning to close and relock it. Harry looked around the huge foyer, eyes wide at the sight. He had never been inside the mansion before, since he and Draco had never been anything but rivals before they’d gotten together. Harry felt Draco grab his hand, quickly, but quietly, cutting his visual tour short to pull him down the main entrance, into the hallway and up the stairs to his room. There, he pushed Harry inside his room, rounding on him. “Wait here. Do not leave this room; I have to find my mother and talk to her,” Draco said to Harry, leaning forward to place a quick kiss on his lips before he turned and went back out into the hall, muttering spells to lock the door and keep Harry safe in case anything unpleasant happened while they were there.

Harry sighed as he was locked in. Shrugging his shoulders, he walked over to the huge four-poster bed and sat down on the mattress, waiting for Draco to return.

@>*~

Draco needed to find his mother; he knew she liked to read and he had already checked her personal library, but it had turned up empty when he searched it. He decided to check his father’s personal library, since with his father gone she had been interested in reading the darker books his father had kept there. He knew his mother wouldn’t use them for evil purposes, more for trying to find a countercurse to something Lucius had done around the house. Those little things tended to annoy her to great lengths, and all Draco could usually do was smile when she ranted about it.

Upon entering his father’s library, the last thing he had been expecting was to see his father, sitting in his chair, feet propped on the ottoman, skimming over a book. He really shouldn’t have been surprised to see his father there, really, since he supposed he had drastically underestimated the man. Draco halted, shocked to stillness, and forced his breathing to return to normal as he looked at his father, who obviously had heard him enter. Draco suddenly worried his father knew Harry was here in the manor as well and he feared that Harry and their child would be put into harm’s way.

“Draco,” Lucius said happily in greeting. Standing up from his chair, he made his way towards his motionless son, looking at him. A slightly distasteful look came to Lucius’ face, as if he couldn’t decide whether Draco was worth salvaging or not. “I may pretend I’ve not seen you here, boy, if you give the account that you stayed with Potter as far as you could before realigning your allegiance,” Lucius began, frowning thoughtfully at his only child. “He’s not stupid in any respect, and it would be believable that he would resist your trying to keep him where we would surely find you.”

Apparently, Draco had been worth salvaging to his father. Great. Nice to know he cares, Draco thought. But what can I do to keep him away from Harry? He puffed his chest back up to its old glory and his mouth dropped into a familiar scowl that had not been so familiar for the last few weeks. “I don’t care about him and his filthy child,” Draco said, attempting to get on his father’s good side, pretending to switch back to evil, or in fact, trying to make his father believe he had never faltered at all in his allegiance to the Dark Lord. He hoped he came over as convincing, but from the look on Lucius’ face, he had the awful feeling he hadn’t.

Child? Lucius thought questioningly to himself. Potter’s with child? When did this happen and why wasn’t I informed of it beforehand? Lucius couldn’t believe what he’d heard. His son and the Potter boy were having a child together? Lucius didn’t know what to say or do; he didn’t want to be caught uninformed, so he kept his expression blank, kept himself from inquiring what the hell Draco was talking about. If it were true, what would happen? How would his family be viewed since they were known Death Eaters now thanks to his earlier incarceration at the hands of the Potter boy?

“You’re lying,” he growled instead. They stared at one another for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. Lucius knew the boy wasn’t telling him the truth; Draco wouldn’t have come back home alone without his lover with him.

Draco merely crossed his arms with a scoff and sneered at his father. “So I am,” he admitted, steeling himself as he continued. “I’m trying to protect him and our child. I’m not handing Harry over to the Dark Lord and quite possibly never even getting the chance to know my own child; because you sure weren’t the greatest father in the world yourself.”

Lucius glared at his son, furious. So, he had heard correctly. “Your child?” He bellowed, making Draco jump at the unexpected tone. “Have you lost your bloody mind? Do you know what the Dark Lord will do to you now?”

“There was never any guarantee I would make it out of his presence alive in the first place, Father,” he shouted back, their voices evenly matched. “You know that, and I know that. What would you have me do, Father: turn Harry over and go back to being a good little Death Eater son?” Before Draco had a chance to continue in this train of thought, Lucius backhanded his son, sending him sprawling to the floor, before turning and walking back to his chair, sitting down calmly, stewing in his fury.

Draco gasped at the slap, wiping a hand across his mouth and looking down to find a bit of blood there, his lip having been split at the impact. He gaped at his father from the floor; never before had his father slapped him across the face. Lucius closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked back to his son. "Do you not understand," he began lowly, voice ragged, hoarse, and desperate, "the impact this child will have on the Dark Lord? Potter is a half-blood; your child will be a half-blood. Did my teachings fall on deaf ears or are you just that stupid?” Lucius said, shaking his head in disappointment at his thickheaded son.

Draco had risen to his feet the moment Lucius had sat back down. “You’re worried about our pure-bloodedness?” Draco half-shouted in disbelief. He scoffed, shaking his head, brow furrowed. “Father, have you forgotten that you and I are not completely pureblood? You do remember, don’t you, Father, that we have Veela in our blood also?”

Lucius chose to ignore the boy’s smug tone as he rested his arms on the armrests, slightly pulling up the sleeve on his left arm, exposing his wrist. Draco frowned at what he saw hanging off of his father’s exposed wrist. It was a silver bracelet with snakes entwined to make the chain links, a red gem in the center, the snake’s fangs reminiscent of the clips on rings holding fast to a precious stone. Draco always wondered why it would glow red when his father was angry, but now he’d caught on. “How did you know I was here?” he suddenly asked.

Lucius smirked, lifting his wrist in answer, holding the stone out for Draco to see. “It contains a droplet of your blood, and seeks the body from which it fell.”

Draco’s mouth pulled down into a frown at this bit of information. “So, you’ve known where I was this whole time?”

“Yes,” Lucius replied. He hadn’t known his son would actually be stupid enough to show up back at his own home, though. Seems the Dark Lord had been correct after all.

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “Then why didn’t you come after me yourself?”

“I wanted to know how it would turn out. I have my reasons,” Lucius said, leaning back in his chair, legs crossed at the ankle. Yes, Lucius had known, and he could have walked right up to Draco in Durmstrang at any time he deemed fit; he had just wanted to have his own shot at both of the boys, figure out what was really going on, before anyone else.

“So, now what?” Draco asked. Stupid Dark Lord, he thought as he stared at his father, willing himself not to look scared.

Lucius inclined his head, smirk growing into a cruel smile. They both knew if he chose Harry, Lucius would seek him out, and potentially kill him, or hold him under a curse, so as not to ‘tarnish’ the Malfoy name by having a deviant for a son. His lips curled icily at the corners and Draco found himself fearful for the first time as he leaned forward, identical eyes piercing his own. “Make your choice, Draco.”

@>*~

They were sitting together on a bench, close to the Quidditch pitch, but far enough away to get some privacy to just be alone together. Hermione was leaning back on her hands as Ron sat sideways with one leg bent on the bench. There was a Quidditch game later that day: Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff.

It was a slow Saturday afternoon, and both Ron and Hermione were waiting until the game started. Ron was the Keeper and Captain of the Gryffindor team and he had time before he had to run to the changing rooms and get into his uniform for the big game. They didn’t talk much as they sat there, soaking up the little bit of sun that was shining above: most of it had been obscured by a few white clouds floating along lazily in the sky overhead.

After a while, they got up from the bench, Ron pulling Hermione to him and placing a heated kiss onto her lips; she moaned at the tongue that sought entrance into her mouth, opening wide to admit it and swirling her own around it in response. They pulled apart, a silent promise of things later to come, at night, when everyone was asleep and they could get together to finish what they’d started.

Hermione followed Ron to the Quidditch changing rooms, holding his hand as they walked. “You know, I was thinking of maybe being a professional Quidditch player; what do you reckon?” Ron asked, amusement in his eyes at Hermione’s alarmed look.

“Um…” Hermione said eloquently, blushing, as she couldn’t help but picture Ron trying to play Quidditch professionally. He wasn’t bad at Quidditch, but he wasn’t really the professional playing-type either. She hadn’t meant to laugh at the thought, but it came out without her wanting it to. “Oh, God, Ron, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh,” she said at the serious look on his face when he’d asked about being a player.

But Ron couldn’t help it; he leaned his head back and laughed until his sides hurt. She looked at him strangely until he said, “No, I’m just joking." He chuckled at Hermione’s relieved breath. He twined his fingers between hers and squeezed, giving her questioning look a pensive, lopsided grin. “Actually, I was thinking about something in the Ministry…” Hermione sighed. Now, this was a conversation she was more equipped to deal with.

@>*~

“You know my choice, Father,” Draco firmly stated, if not a little quieter than he had meant it to be.

Lucius looked at Draco, face completely blank, a stoic, time-crafted, Malfoy mask. “Get out of my sight,” he demanded in a low voice, sending a shiver of fear through Draco’s body. He knew his father wouldn’t give him long, but he’d use the time he was given. He wasn’t going to throw it in his father’s face, no matter how bad he wanted to. Draco supposed he’d already won; he had made the right choice, and now he had to live with it. He suddenly remembered something and he quickly Apparated himself to his mother’s parlor.

Draco looked around the room, searching, until his eyes landed on the family clock. The clock looked like any other type of clock, except this one showed the person viewing it where a member of the family it was spelled to show was. It had a frosted glass faceplate, slices of sharp, silver daggers with elegant black script depicting the names of the family members who owned it on their blades. In place of numbers, which ranged all around the clock, there were various places and states of wellbeing: 1-mortal danger, 2-grounds (as in the grounds of the manor), 3-home (it had a slip which told which floor of the manor said person was on), 4-Hogwarts, 5-Ministry of Magic, 6-Diagon Alley, 7-work, 8-London, 9-Summoned, 10-asleep, 11-out of the country, and 12-dead.

Draco looked at it, swallowing almost involuntarily when he saw his own blade hovering between one and twelve, and he felt a detached part of his mind want to shrug and say ‘oh well’, as opposed to the other part that was panicking beyond belief, along with that part that wondered why his ears were ringing. If anyone had seen him at that moment, they’d think he was fine, simply looking for the time; he’d never shown his feelings. He was a Malfoy after all. But he had shown Harry though, and maybe that was the price of being a Malfoy. If it was, he didn’t think he wanted to pay it much longer.

He looked at his father’s dagger, which was actually pointing at two different points, completely opposite each other. The center rivet that held the hilts of the daggers had pulled Lucius’ blade through, the metal bent and twisted where it had torn the hole larger. It pointed at home as well as summoned. Lucius had more than likely gotten his feelings about his home life mixed up in his work.

Suddenly, a chime rang again from inside the clock, and Draco realized that’s what had made the ringing noise before he felt a hand on his shoulder. He felt cold suddenly and spun around, prepared to see his father standing there, saying “time’s up” before plunging a knife through his heart. He knew he was being dramatic, and he sighed heavily before he wrapped his arms around his mother, who shushed him, petting his hair. Draco was a few inches taller than her, but not by much; he hung his head over her shoulder, holding her tightly before pulling back. “Mother, you’ve got to help me.”

“Calm down, Draco. What is it?” she asked, gripping his arms lightly, a frown marring her lovely face.

“I’ve changed sides. Harry Potter is in my bedroom, and father, whether by the Dark Lord’s orders or his own sick disappointment in me, is trying to kill me,” he explained quickly, barely keeping himself from crying into her shoulder. He wasn’t usually so emotional, but everything just seemed to be crashing around his head suddenly.

Narcissa’s lips went slack as she stared at her son. She was planning on asking him why he was out of school, for the full story, but she knew that didn’t matter at all to any of them right now, nor did they have the time. She had nodded at him, like she’d known all along already; though as soon as Draco finished speaking, she said, “Quickly, take him back to Hogwarts; meet Snape at the town square in Hogsmeade. I’ll contact you.” Draco nodded, hugged his mother one last time, took a steadying breath and headed off to go get Harry.

@>*~

Lucius was leaning back in his chair, feet propped up once more on the ottoman, fingers steepled and under his chin. He knew his son had left the manor with Potter tagging along. The bracelet he wore wasn’t glowing as brightly as it had when Draco had been nearby. It began vibrating slightly, off and on, since he’d left, forewarning. Though the bracelet sought the owner of the blood within its gem, it wasn’t able to tell Lucius exactly where his son was located at the moment.

As he pondered on his next course of action, he suddenly felt a presence in the room with him. He looked up to find his wife briskly walking into his personal library, beautiful face creased in disquiet. "Narcissa, my dear," he began, smooth voice giving way to brimming fury, staring blankly at his wife.

She startled, her graceful glide faltering. "Lucius," she replied, feigning innocence at the piercing stare directed at her. She smiled, a wan smile. Very weak, he thought. "What a delightful surprise. I did not feel the wards shift for your entry."

"I haven't been here long," he said blithely, eyes narrowing. “What brings you to my library?”

Narcissa walked over to the bookcase beside the fireplace, pale fingers selecting a book at random. “I came for a book, Lucius,” she replied with a faint smile, eyes under the pretense of scanning the pages within.

“Narcissa, my dear,” he began, becoming angry, “don’t lie to me. Our son was just here and I know he went to see you. Tell me where he has gone, dearest,” he demanded, getting up from the chair to stand in front of her, intimidating.

“I don’t know where he went,” she lied unsuccessfully, backing away slightly from her husband.

Lucius sighed to himself. If he didn’t love her so… “Narcissa,” he began lowly, “you can’t protect him any longer. The Dark Lord knows he’s with Potter. Maybe we might be able to spare his life, but I must know where he’s gone. Back to Hogwarts, perhaps? What did he tell you, dear?” he demanded.

Narcissa frowned; she couldn't tell her husband anything. Draco was her son and she had to protect him, no matter what. She wiped her face of every trace of a frown and regarded her husband with a cool, indifferent mask, a Malfoy mask. For Draco. “I told you, I don’t know anything.”

“You have to stop this!” Lucius suddenly cried, causing her to flinch. “I need to know where ... he ...” Lucius trailed off, distracted by something or other. Narcissa wasn’t sure what, though, but Lucius suddenly grabbed his arm, hissing in pain at the insistent burning sensation. "I have to go," he idly informed her as he headed towards the door to his library, down the hall and outside onto the grounds. It seemed the Dark Lord was not pleased with him at the moment, diverging from their primary objective for his own personal reasons.

As soon as Lucius left, Narcissa ran to the desk near the window swiftly, grabbing a piece of parchment and a quill and began quickly penning a letter. The quill waved frantically as she wrote, nearly tearing the paper with its tip in her haste.

@>*~

They appeared in the town square of Hogsmeade, Draco having to hold a pained Harry upright as he had almost collapsed when they’d landed. Draco's eyes darted everywhere, trying to find Snape in the busy square.

Meanwhile, Snape heard the distinct sound of someone Apparating nearby and turned, sighing to himself in relief at the sight of the two boys, who hadn’t seen him yet. He walked through the crowd of witches and wizards, stopping once he made it to the pair.

“Follow me,” Snape whispered quickly, leading the way to the Three Broomsticks, trying not to attract too much attention. He had spotted Death Eaters trying to be discreet as they searched the crowd, no doubt looking for the three of them.

Snape, Harry, and Draco walked through the plaza as inconspicuously as possible, pretending to blend in with the bustling townsfolk. Apparently, the Dark Lord trained his followers much better in recent years than I had thought, Snape mused to himself, watching as the Death Eaters hid themselves from view, mingling in. The only way Severus had known they were there with them was because he himself had been actively searching for them in the crowd.

The Three Broomsticks was alive with jaunty music; barmaids were swinging their trays between tables, and Rosmerta was chatting up a wizard by the bar. Once he ushered the boys inside, Snape turned to his two charges. “Death Eaters are here, in town. As soon as we find a secluded corner of this building, Apparate as quickly as you can, just outside the gates to Hogwarts,” he explained hurriedly, walking off and weaving his way through tables and chairs once the boys nodded in understanding.

They walked quickly, ignoring anyone and everyone as they went, stopping once they reached a corner table, obscured by the other loud patrons in the pub; they Disapparated from the Three Broomsticks as soon as they spotted the Death Eaters entering the building, their sharp eyes scanning the crowd.

The three Death Eaters, who had entered the tavern after seeing Snape slink in, made their way quickly to the table but Snape had already disappeared before they could catch him and his companions. Thwarted, they disappeared also, startling a few pub patrons as they had been scattered throughout. Fortunately for them, they had an idea of where Snape was headed and went to follow.

@>*~

The grounds of Hogwarts were deserted, not a single student or teacher roaming about. Hermione stood, somewhat bored, waiting outside of the Gryffindor changing room for Ron to come out; she had wanted to give him a quick kiss for good luck. She knew he’d do fine out on the pitch, but he always had a hard time believing it to be true. After a while, the Gryffindor team began to emerge. Ron was the last to exit, broom in hand, looking quite dashing in his uniform.

“Ron,” Hermione called, getting the redhead’s attention.

Ron looked to the side to see Hermione waiting for him, smiling sweetly. “Hiya, Hermione,” he said, grinning from ear to ear at her. “Come to see me off?”

Hermione smiled coyly at him, nodding her head in answer. She made her way to him, standing on her toes to place a brief kiss to his cheek. “Good luck,” she whispered, grinning at the creeping blush that spread over his face.

“Thanks, I’ll need it,” he replied gently, demurely, straightening up, a determined look on his face. With Hufflepuff’s Seeker, Laura Madley, Gryffindor was hard-pressed to win. He only hoped Dennis Creevey would be able to catch the Snitch before she did.

The Gryffindor team walked out onto the pitch amongst claps, cheers, and boos. Ron was brimming with nerves, yet excited. The atmosphere on the pitch was promising; there were only a few clouds in the sky, and no chance for rain or snow to fall and make it a more difficult than usual game. Students waved banners of their own making, showing support for either team.

Ron and his teammates made their way to the center of the pitch where Madam Hooch was standing by, waiting to start the game. In the background, Ron could hear Colin Creevey commenting via the Sonorus Charm. “Welcome to today’s Quidditch match: Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff!” Cheers broke out in the stands at this announcement, and the student stands were bathed in seas of yellow and black and red and gold. “Filling in, once again, for Harry Potter is my brother, Dennis Creevey!” Colin shouted, making a few people nearby him rub their ears more at the screech in his tone than the screech of the feedback. “He won the last game,” he continued breathlessly, “an awesome player if I do say so myself.” He was interrupted by Professor McGonagall giving him a stern look. “Er, anyway, Madam Hooch has released the balls, she’s stopped climbing in the air to talk, no lecturing them… She’s released the Quaffle! And we’re off!”

At this time, Dumbledore was seated in one of the teachers’ booths, barely paying any attention to the game being played. He was worried, he couldn’t explain why, but he just had a bad feeling something was afoot. He couldn’t say where this feeling of dread was coming from, but it unsettled him greatly. He refrained from looking over his shoulder, not wanting to worry anyone, his eyes having lost their usual twinkle, his brows furrowed as he worried about what might happen.

McGonagall noticed Albus’ distracted state; she couldn’t help but notice. He seemed distant, preoccupied, apprehensive, as if someone were about to attack him from behind or some other such nonsense. He wasn’t smiling as he usually did when Gryffindor played. I hope everything’s all right, she thought quietly. There’s nothing Albus can do now. She wasn’t sure if he was simply staying out of everything that had happened so far, or if he truly had no secret upper hand in this part of the game. And it was a game, after all. All she could do, all any of them could do, was simply wait and see what would eventually transpire.

@>*~

Snape had not fooled anyone with his constant Apparating, least of all the Dark Lord. The time he had spent in Hogsmeade gave Voldemort the heads up. Once Snape left Hogsmeade, Voldemort had known what his next stop would be. The Dark Lord quickly left the Dark school and loped down the lawns, and out to the gates, disappearing the moment he was on the other side of them. Finally, he would finish this, once and for all.

@>*~

They reappeared just outside the gates to Hogwarts; Snape moved quickly to unlock them with a spell known by all teachers for emergencies. Harry was thankful he hadn’t thrown up the moment he appeared, following his Potions master as fast as he could, Draco close behind him.

They were trotting up the beaten path when Harry suddenly doubled over in pain, hissing as he palmed his forehead, veering off to the side; he knew Voldemort had arrived, was here, on their heels, behind them. Draco was pulled back at Harry’s sudden stop. Shit, Draco thought (knowing that look on Harry's face, he didn't have to turn around to know the Dark Lord was nearby), practically dragging Harry until he stood up on his own, nodding and running behind Draco again. Voldemort appeared seconds after, watching as Snape and the two boys ran to the gates. “Severus, you will not escape me!” Voldemort bellowed, causing Harry to stumble in his step. They were too late! They weren’t going to make it!

Voldemort let out a chilling scream at seeing Snape finally getting the gate to open, shoving the boys through. He tossed spell after spell at the two boys, green light zipping close to their heads as the Killing Curse missed its mark, his spells striking the bars, causing them to ring loudly in protest, and singeing their hair, way too close for comfort. Voldemort lowered his wand, running after the three of them as the gates started to shut. He made it to the gates just as Severus was closing them. Voldemort grabbed hold of the golden bars, using his physical strength to try to push them open.

Snape, on the other side, slammed his body forcefully against the bars, using all his might to keep them shut, neither thinking to just use magic instead. “Draco,” Snape grunted as he kept pushing at the gates, legs locked, and boots digging into the dirt. “Take Potter up to the castle…hurry!”

Draco frantically nodded, grasping Harry’s arm and dragging him behind him as he ran as fast as he could towards the school. Harry was panting with the effort, with each step they took, feeling sick to his stomach at the speed they were moving, the weight in his belly making it difficult as he ran.

Voldemort yelled out with a roar of strength as he finally pushed open the gates, knocking Snape aside. Snape recovered quickly, turning and running up the path to the school, hurling any spell, curse, or hex he could think of over his shoulder.

Draco and Harry continued up the path swiftly, leaving Snape casting spells behind them, defending the two of them as they kept running. Voldemort sent curse after curse at the three of them, having to dodge the spells his ex-Death Eater was lobbing towards him. Voldemort saw spells other than his own flying past, aimed at Snape and the two boys, his Death Eaters contributing to the effort. A few broke off as they heard noise coming from the pitch (no doubt a Quidditch match in progress), figuring no one would be left in the castle.

@>*~

The few Death Eaters not chasing down Snape and the boys with Voldemort made their way toward the roaring noise of the Quidditch pitch. A few of them paused to watch the game, while the others moved further in. They spread out, each one headed for the booths holding the teachers and parents.

There were murmurings from the Slytherin students as a few of them watched the men in the dark robes and masks move stealthily through the crowded stands. The students that witnessed the Death Eaters hurriedly got out of their way; a few of them wondered if the men moving past them were their fathers.

The Death Eaters climbed the stairs to the teachers’ booths, some having only one Death Eater, while some had two. A spell came hurling overheard, missing its target, bouncing off the side of the wall, making the teachers and parents whirl around, wondering what had caused it.

One Death Eater made it to the top, throwing out curses randomly at the teachers present. The teachers seated on the benches turned almost as one as they heard and saw the blasts from the spells that missed them, splintering wood everywhere, feeling the air move above their heads; some spells sizzling past the players who got too close. A few of the more delicate and panicked vulnerable began yelling or screaming, wildly making their way to the exits as wood and steel exploded all around them.

“What a brilliant save by Weasley!” Colin obliviously shouted out, eliciting cheers from those still watching the game. He wasn’t sure why he did it, and years from then when he was asked, he’d tell them it was a chance look across the pitch. “And Laura Madley suddenly dives, did she see the--Death Eaters!” he yelled suddenly, making every single person on the field, except for a few players who were in the middle of a dive or pass, look around. They knew Colin would never say something like that only to take the piss.

Instantaneously, mass panic erupted a mere few moments after Colin's startled howl, students rushing the stairs in a frenzy, pushing, shoving, even kicking each other in their haste to save themselves. Dumbledore sprang up from his seat, wand out, spells fired with swiftness and accuracy at a few of Voldemort's followers converging in his own booth. The Death Eaters went down, one by one, from Dumbledore’s and a few seconds after, McGonagall’s, Stunning Spells, but not before a stray green light hit Professor Sprout in the chest, sending her flying against the wall of the booth, eyes open, staring at nothing, body motionless.

McGonagall had a dismayed look about her, but there would be time to grieve later; right now they had to get everyone to safety. “Minerva, stay here and make sure the students get to the castle,” Dumbledore ordered. “Remus, you’re with me; I have a feeling Harry and the others will need our help.”

Remus nodded, following Dumbledore down the stairs and out onto the grounds at the mere mention of Harry, breathing heavily as he ran alongside Dumbledore.

@>*~

Snape was barely paying attention to where he was going, more worried about keeping himself from getting hit with one of Voldemort’s curses: his wand up, spells streaming like a quick breath from his lips, sweat pouring down his face, robes sticking to him, determination and a hint of fear in his eyes. So preoccupied as he was, he didn’t see Dumbledore or Lupin until he almost ran into them.

Dumbledore sped quickly towards Snape and Voldemort, also helping to protect the two boys, who were running farther and farther away. The Dark Lord saw Albus, growling, red eyes bursting with fury as he threw nasty curses at the older wizard. Dumbledore blocked most of the spells aimed at him; the others whistled by his head, singeing his sky blue robes as they passed, ones not aimed for his head. He hadn’t thought Tom would be foolish enough to come right onto the grounds, but if Tom thought Harry was as good as in his clutches, Albus was going to forge ahead until Tom was proved wrong.

@>*~

McGonagall had rounded up the teachers and prefects with her usual calm and quiet firmness, but one look at her eyes and you knew she was serious, desperately trying to get the screaming and terrified students, running amok, into some semblance of order and back into the castle where they’d be able to defend it better than out in the open.

It was hard going trying to get the students to safety in such bedlam; prefects were yelling out orders, dragging the fallen up, gathering up the younger students who were bawling or bleeding, getting them to the safety of the school. Voldemort and the Death Eaters were close enough to the castle, spells whirring overhead, crashing into students and the castle’s exterior, raw insanity and delight on their faces could be seen.

Many of the students had stopped, staring at the horrendous scene unfolding around them in sickening fascination, unable to believe what they were seeing, too scared to move unless shoved into action… unaware of Bellatrix Lestrange skulking behind them until a student was struck with a violent red curse, causing students to scatter in all directions.

Bellatrix painted quite a frightening picture: gaunt face in maniacal glee, hair whipping about her face, laughing and screeching in sheer enjoyment, wand flying around spitting out curses, hitting one poor second year with the Cruciatus Curse. “Filthy-blooded creature, tainted by Hogwarts--Mudblood scum,” Bellatrix whispered lividly, moving closer to the second year before Hermione, racing by as she steered students into the school, turned around and broke the curse, herding the sobbing child towards the school. Hissing at the prefect and hurling Dark curses at the Muggle-born, Bellatrix scowled and began stalking for her next set of victims.

In the meantime, stumbling, Voldemort whipped his wand about, hitting Snape with a Stunning Spell, sending Snape staggering, falling, crashing like a great hero finally succumbing to defeat. Voldemort howled in triumph at finally getting the upper hand on Snape, stunning him. He took a step forward, intent on finishing off the traitor, when he looked up and saw Harry suddenly standing still, wand in hand.

Harry had stopped, turning around as he heard Snape fall to the ground and Voldemort yelling victoriously. Harry scowled as he pulled his wand out from within his robes, watching detachedly as Voldemort looked up at him, smirked, and advanced.

Dumbledore turned towards Harry when he heard shouting. The teachers who weren’t herding the students to the castle were fighting the Death Eaters, pushing them back towards the gates, away from their castle. The Headmaster’s eyes widened very slightly, face blank, as he took in the sight of Harry and his rather large stomach.

Draco had felt Harry stop, and dug his feet into the ground, nearly tearing Harry’s arm off as he kept going and abruptly stopped, watching Harry in horror. “Harry--the hell--let’s go!” He shouted to the dark-haired boy, but Harry ignored him, walking slowly, almost predatorily towards the Dark Lord. Draco could do nothing but stare, mouth open slightly, a frown on his face as he saw his very pregnant lover squaring off with the Dark Lord.

Remus, by this time had reached the prone Potions master, ran over to Severus once the Dark Lord turned his attention on Harry. Remus knelt down, placing Severus’ head in his lap, fingers carding through greasy hair, hoping he really had only been stunned and nothing more fatal. He looked up from his seat on the cold, hard, dirt ground, watching in terrible awe at Voldemort’s stalk towards Harry.

Harry moved slowly and awkwardly toward the Dark Lord, keeping an eye on his wand. As they got closer to one another, the tips of their wands began emitting sparks, crackling wildly with color. Voldemort paused, first looking over to Dumbledore (who had frowned slightly at the sparks flying), than over to Harry, who kept advancing closer and closer to Voldemort, barely paying any heed to his wand. Voldemort froze and warily drew back, looking down at their wands, which were now hissing and spitting more sparks the closer Harry came near.

The Dark Lord took another step back; he knew with the wands, in such a tense situation, and both of their masters excruciatingly angry, something would go wrong. Dumbledore knew this as well, and Voldemort did, too, but Harry, blinded by his anger and hatred at everything Voldemort had done to him and his family, continued to move forward.

It was at this time Voldemort realized now was not the time, and though it greatly wounded his pride, quickly moved backwards towards the gates, keeping his glittering crimson eyes firmly on Harry. As soon as Voldemort made his way finally off the grounds, he gave Harry and Dumbledore one last, menacing look that wordlessly conveyed, ‘This is far from over; rest assured, I will return’, and Apparated away. His Death Eaters, most of which had been driven back outside the gates, off the grounds, disappeared, retreating from the battle to regroup with their master.

Harry stood there for a moment, panting, hand still gripping his wand, before his eyes rolled into the back of his head, pitching forward, body slumping just the right way so he landed on his side and not his stomach.

“Harry!” Draco shouted, sprinting down the path towards his lover. Harry’s wand was lying in his slack fingers, but Draco was grateful to discover he was breathing normally. He looked to be sleeping, as if he decided to take a nice long nap on the dirt floor.

A few students emerged from the castle, milling about: the ones not hiding in fear for their lives. Ron and Hermione, who had been part of the group trying to usher the younger years into the school, walked slowly over to their passed-out friend. They were still pumped full of adrenalin, so all they did was stand close and watch tensely as Draco brushed Harry’s hair from his forehead and rubbed his quite large belly.

“Harry?” Draco whispered quietly, gently, down at the boy. “Are you okay?” He kept rubbing Harry’s stomach, feeling the baby inside him kicking frantically; Draco’s eyes widened in wonder at the movement of their child as he checked the boy beneath him for any visible injuries. By this time Blaise and Neville had broken through the inquisitive throng and joined Harry’s friends and various onlookers in the wide circle surrounding Harry and Draco. A few students gasped and began muttering excitedly amongst each other when Harry’s head lolled towards Draco’s chest and the blond boy bent down and placed a quick kiss to Harry’s slightly sweaty forehead, cheek against it, eyes wide and pale as a ghost.

The circle of onlookers and friends parted to allow some teachers through, one in particular carrying a very groggy, but awake, Severus Snape over to them. Snape looked first down at Harry, still unconscious but fine nonetheless, then over to Draco. The blond didn’t say anything, just nodded at his Potions master, thinking, The baby’s fine, Harry’s just unconscious.

Dumbledore then stood in the middle of the broken and war-damaged onlookers, watching how Draco held Harry tenderly, rubbed his belly, and asked him if he were all right. He knew Draco had known they had gathered a crowd, but hadn’t seemed to give a damn, too worried about Harry. Grimly, the Headmaster moved forward after a few minutes, placing a firm hand on quiet Draco’s shoulder, breaking the moment, intruding, pulling him back as he pulled out his wand.

@>*~

Dumbledore had levitated Harry up to the school and directly to the hospital wing. Students had followed them all through the halls, whispering to each other as their Headmaster passed by them on his way to the west wing. The students couldn’t follow their Headmaster into the hospital wing, not allowed inside while Madam Pomfrey had a say, and cleared the way to a bed.

Meanwhile, Snape was settled on another bed, across the way, forgotten for the moment as Harry was placed onto another bed. Draco followed the Headmaster, moving out of the way while he placed Harry down. He immediately moved to Harry’s side, seizing his hand as he waited for the dark-haired boy to wake up. Pomfrey had struggled to check Draco over, much to the occupied blond's chagrin, and was deemed healthy and unharmed, as he had left the battle relatively unscathed.

“Those who are not needed here, please leave; I can’t work with you all hovering about!” Pomfrey declared, indicating a few students and some teachers who had wandered into the hospital wing trying to see what was going on.

Blaise and Neville turned to head back out when Draco spoke up, “Can Blaise and Longbottom stay?” Pomfrey sighed wearily and nodded, not bothering to argue, with such a staid look on the blond’s face, turning back to check over Harry. She nodded firmly to herself that everything was okay at the moment; he was just out cold.

Blaise nodded his thanks at Draco, ushering Neville towards the bed. Neville paused a moment, not sure if he was wanted there at the moment and frankly, Malfoy scared him a bit at times, but he nervously followed Blaise and stood quietly as Pomfrey examined Harry. He couldn’t help noticing Harry’s large stomach; he had either gained quite a bit of weight while they had been gone, or he was… Neville blinked owlishly and looked at Draco, whose sole focus was on Harry, rubbing his belly, murmuring words to the prone boy. Neville shook his head, muttering quietly to himself. Now wasn’t the time to ask stupid questions.

Lupin sat at Snape’s bedside, looking down at him with worry. Severus was sweating a bit and looked pale, and Remus hoped that Voldemort hadn’t done anything awful to the Potions master. Snape’s head was resting back on the pillows, eyes closed, steadfastly ignoring Lupin. He wondered how the hell he had gotten out of that alive, escaping from the Dark Lord with just a stun.

Dumbledore and McGonagall were standing off to the side, having stayed when Pomfrey had shooed everyone else out. They were watching the interaction between Harry and Draco and Severus and Remus, both lost in thought, in mild wonder, at the display.

The doors suddenly burst open, interrupting the quiet of the hospital wing. Ron and Hermione came running in, faces grim masks of determination, after they heard Harry had been brought there. They hadn’t been able to get to the front of the crowd back on the grounds. Ron and his team had been playing Quidditch when the battle had started and he had to get them all to the ground in the commotion, and then as a prefect, he had to help shepherd the other students towards the castle.

Still in his wrinkled Quidditch robes, he went running to where he saw Dumbledore and the others huddled around a bed, rudely pushing his way past Dumbledore and McGonagall, at the moment not caring if they deducted points or not, and stopped upon seeing Malfoy sitting next to Harry, holding his hand. He glared at Malfoy before stopping next to Neville, wondering what on earth he was doing there, when he looked around and saw Zabini standing across the bed from him, next to Malfoy. He heard voices coming from nearby and turned to see Lupin talking softly to Snape. He raised an eyebrow at the sight, but chose to ignore it for the time being, more worried about Harry.

Hermione came in right after Ron, apologizing to everyone as she jostled past, catching up with Ron. She stopped at Ron’s side, looking around to see what was happening. “Harry!” she whispered, hands flying to her mouth, tears on the verge of falling from her eyes as she looked down at her best friend lying unconscious on the bed, praying he was okay.

Before anyone could speak, Harry opened his eyes, blinking as he found himself in hospital, surrounded by his friends. It warmed him, if only for a moment, realizing he was home. “Er,” he said, looking around. He noticed Draco look right at him as soon as he spoke, but the blond boy kept himself from jumping up and hugging him or something else unusual. Harry felt Draco squeeze his hand though, giving him a look.

“Harry!” Hermione cried, rushing to give him a hug, tears spilling on their own accord. Harry petted Hermione’s back awkwardly, looking over her shoulder at Ron.

Ron shrugged. “We thought you’d been badly hurt, mate,” he said.

“Ahem,” Dumbledore cleared his throat, getting everyone’s attention, because he was obviously about to say something of importance. “Now that everyone is here, I think we should take a moment to address Madam Pomfrey and inquire as to how everyone is doing,” he said, nodding to Madam Pomfrey.

“All three of them are all right. Professor Snape will take longer to recover than Mr. Potter, but that’s to be expected; though Mr. Potter might actually have to stay in bed for longer, to recuperate the loss of his energy, so as not to come to any danger to himself or his progeny,” she explained, abruptly turning and heading back over to Snape.

Ron opened his mouth to yell, wanting to know why Draco wasn’t hurt and just what all had happened since he hadn’t had a chance in all the chaos, when he was interrupted by Professor McGonagall. “Do you really think it was wise to run off on an adventure in your condition?” McGonagall asked, addressing Harry, who had startled at the sudden attention on him. “We’ve cancelled all of your training; Merlin knows it would be hazardous to the child, especially in the state you’re in now.”

“Okay, wait a tick,” Ron finally said, clearly very angry about being left out of the loop. “I’m not sure what progeny even means, but I understand the word ‘child’. What the bloody hell is going on?” he asked, looking first at Hermione and then Harry, like they’d been keeping something from him.

Harry sighed, annoyed, rolled his eyes, and moved up higher in the bed. It was now or never. “Oh, you had to bloody well tell them, didn’t you?” he mumbled from the bed as he clumsily tried to sit up. McGonagall had the dignity to look a bit shameful for having revealed what she had, reflecting that she probably shouldn’t have.

It took Ron a moment, but he finally cottoned on to what they were talking about and he looked over to Draco, glaring murderously at the blond boy, fists clenched menacingly, as if everything that had transpired in the last fortnight or so had been clearly all his fault. Draco was nervous, clearly, but tried not to show it too openly. No one had known about their relationship except for Snape, and apparently, Blaise and Longbottom had found out, and of course, Weasley and Granger, nosy as they were, had also found out.

No one had known about their baby either, except for Snape, somehow. He assumed Dumbledore had found out on his own, although Draco had no idea how he had done so, especially since Harry had never said anything about talking to the Headmaster about it. The blond chanced a look over at Hermione, who had the slightest of smiles on her face. Seemed she’d figured it out too, although she more than likely never told anyone, since Weasley had been clueless about it. No surprise there, he scornfully thought.

@>*~