Just Tie a Knot (Version 2)

*~*~*~*
Harry helped several Girl Guides nail together birdhouses they were building and decorating for a proficiency badge. The part time job consisted of stocking shelves, inventory and helping Anne with her craft classes; Anne quickly discovered that Harry or “Rea” as she had dubbed him, was very good with children.

Harry, with the exception of grade school art projects, which Aunt Petunia had promptly thrown out, had never had much opportunity to work with his hands. Starting simply, he developed a flair for turning the bits of wood, yarn and beads into little creatures the children liked to make.

He especially enjoyed working with the “Wee Ones Craft Class” that met every Wednesday and Saturday mornings. The ever changing collection of three to five year olds were making snowmen out of bits of felt, yarn, icepop sticks and pompoms shot with metallic yarn as many of their mothers attended adult classes with Anne. Harry’s smock was covered with glue and bits of yarn and felt as he helped the clumsy little fingers glue their skiing pompom snowmen together. It had snowed the night before and the little ones were all excited.

Anne shared a cup of tea with Harry after the classes left for the day, passing a plate of leftover holiday sweets one of the women had brought. Harry was a puzzle, quiet most of the time, but really animated with the children. She knew the husky voiced young woman lived alone in the small cottage at the edge of the village and she wondered what had happened to all the adults in her life. Although Rea told her she was eighteen, Anne didn’t know whether to believe her. The child actually appeared to be several years younger. Rea was either a runaway or a throwaway, Anne wasn’t sure which, but she suspected years of abuse as well, based on the little mannerisms Rea exhibited when caught unawares. Anne had taken in foster children and various strays for years. The young red head fit all the signs.

*~*~*~*
Harry propped up his aching legs and watched an old Christmas movie on the television. He was fine when his mind was suitably occupied helping Anne in the shop or teaching the children’s classes, but when he was alone, memories threatened to overwhelm him. Christmas was in a week and for the first time since he found out he was a wizard, he was not looking forward to it. There would be no Weasley sweater, no chocolate frogs, no Great Hall decorated with fairy lights and baubles.

He looked around his small cottage; there were no holiday cards and the only decorations were several display samples for his classes in various stages of completion. Anne often sent him home with bits and pieces to practice on before he taught the children; it was another way to occupy his mind.

Harry turned off the television; it was too painful to watch all the happy people. Hedwig was out hunting so he didn’t even have her company. He lay back on the sofa, snuggling beneath an afghan; he was almost asleep when he felt it – a slight flutter in his abdomen.

“Hello, love.” Harry smiled and rested his hand on the gentle swell of his stomach. “I can’t wait to meet you.”

*~*~*~*
It was Christmas Eve Day and Harry was supervising a group of Cub Scouts making topiary trees out of silk ivy strands, small red flowers, Styrofoam balls, moss, and a dowel - last minute Christmas gifts for their mothers or grandmothers and points toward earning a patch.

Harry was hit with a sudden, blinding headache and the color drained from his face. It felt as if someone was trying to invade his brain. Quickly he tried to empty his mind, months of Occulumency practice paying off. After several unsuccessful attempts, the invader left, but Harry swayed on his feet.

“Miss Rea?” one of the young boys asked in alarm. “Are you all right?”

*~*~*~*
Lord Voldemort leaned back in his chair. He had seen a bit through Harry’s mind before the young wizard closed him out. The Dark Lord mulled the tantalizing clue over in his mind; Harry appeared to be teaching children, and from the soft burr in the children’s voices, he was in Scotland.

*~*~*~*
Anne looked up as one of the boys hurried up to her. “Miss Anne…something’s the matter with Miss Rea.”

She could see Rea wobble on her feet and clutch the worktable for support. All the color seemed to drain from her face. Rea’s hand momentarily paused on her lower abdomen, a move so subtle Anne almost missed it.

Anne made Rea lay down on a shabby sofa in the storage room. The Cub Scout Den Mother assisting with the class continued helping the boys finish their trees; thankfully they were almost done. She only hoped that Rea did not have the flu; the other parents would not appreciate sick children on the holiday.

*~*~*~*
The shop closed early for the holidays and Anne insisted on driving Rea home. Rea was feeling much better, the headache leaving almost as soon as it had struck, but Anne wasn’t taking any chances.

The older woman bustled about in Rea’s small kitchen, fixing tea and sandwiches. Hedwig startled her when she came to investigate. Anne laughed, realizing why Rea had asked about the quilt.

“How far along are you, love?” she asked gently. Harry froze, sandwich halfway to his mouth.

“What do you mean?” he asked nervously.

Anne smiled. “The baby, sweetie. That little bump of a tummy isn’t from too much eggnog.”

*~*~*~*
Harry lay in his bed early Christmas morning. He was content; talking with Anne about the baby lifted a weight he had not even realized he was carrying. She had been sympathetic; there was no hint of disgust in her voice. She did not call him a whore or voice her disapproval. Harry did not tell her about the rapes, just that the other father wanted nothing to do with a child. Anne did not ask too many difficult questions. She had given him a strong hug and said she would be there for him – that he wasn’t the first little girl to find herself pregnant and alone in the world.

Little girl, Harry snorted. He knew Anne was bursting with questions, but she did not pry. What she needed to know she would find out when Harry was ready to tell her and not before.

Anne had invited him to spend Christmas with her extended family but he politely declined, telling her he already had plans and would not be alone. He knew she did not believe him, but she wished him a “Happy Christmas” and headed home to her children, grandchildren and assorted former foster children.

Harry propped himself up in bed against the pillows and rested his hands on his abdomen. Every day he felt the fluttering grow stronger and he did not feel so alone. Hedwig flew into the bedroom and perched on the headboard as if asking what was holding up breakfast. Harry smiled to himself as he realized he hadn’t lied to Anne after all. He wasn’t alone; his family was there with him.

*~*~*~*
Remus looked up from his morning cup of tea. There was an insistent tapping on the window. He opened the window, startled when a familiar white owl hopped in.

“Hedwig?”

Hedwig flew over to the chair beside him, closest to the fireplace and dropped a strange little object beside his breakfast plate. She was grateful to get out of the cold and snow. Remus had never expected to see her again. She hooted softly, reminding him he owed her a treat.

Remus placed a dish of water and a piece of leftover bacon before her and scavenged for a few owl treats from a canister on the counter.

His hands were shaking as he picked up the odd little item. It was a pompom snowman with icepop stick skis. Puzzled, he turned it over and over in his hands. It smelt faintly of Harry.

“Hedwig, are you trying to give me a clue?”

*~*~*~*
Harry tidied up his small cottage before heading out to work. His little row of pompom snowmen that had decorated his windowsill were scattered on the floor. Hedwig must have knocked them over as she soared out for another night of hunting. He picked them up, placing them back on the ledge. One…two…three…four.

“That’s odd,” Harry said aloud to himself. “I thought there were five of them.”

*~*~*~*
The weeks passed and it was no longer a secret that Rea was expecting a child. A few of the mothers pulled their children from the craft classes in protest, but several other women made a special effort to let the young instructor know that they too had been unwed mothers, some by choice, others by circumstance.

Harry had begun wearing Maternity trousers and oversized tops; even if he was masquerading as a woman, he was not about to wear anything particularly feminine. Merlin himself wouldn’t have gotten him into one of those gathered plaid monstrosities with the Peter Pan collars.

At home he found himself wearing his winter weight robes, both for warmth in the drafty cottage and for the comfort the loose garment provided.

He continued to find odd little items missing from time to time and had begun to search for signs of a packrat or other such rodent taking up residence in the little cottage. Magic would have solved the mystery, but he steadfastly refused to use it for anything other than mediwizardry.

Harry snuggled beneath an afghan and continued his reading on male pregnancy, diagnostic spells that should be performed and midwife mediwizardry. The baby would be here sometime in June if Lord Voldemort were correct about the time of conception. Harry was trying to determine if it would be at all possible for him to deliver the baby himself.

*~*~*~
Lucius Malfoy pulled down yet another old book in his massive personal library. He was trying to find a tracking spell, either light or dark. Lord Voldemort was livid that Harry had disappeared and was continuing to escape detection. The Dark Lord was becoming fixated on retrieving his heir.

The white blond wizard ran his finger lightly over a promising spell; it could trace a magical signature.

*~*~*~*
Remus and Albus gathered Harry’s wand and all the little trinkets Hedwig kept bringing. Using the snowy owl or Fawkes, they attempted the locator charm on many occasions, gathering clues for further investigation.

Remus attempted to follow the owl on her return flights, both on broomstick and in his wolf form, but she eluded him and any attempt to attach a letter was met with an indignant nip.

*~*~*~*
Late in January, Anne closed the shop for a detailed inventory. She and Harry had been so absorbed in the back storeroom that neither realized that the gentle snowfall had turned into a raging blizzard.

Deciding it would be too treacherous for Rea to walk home and the unplowed snow too deep to drive in, Anne insisted that Harry spend the night in her apartment above the shop. Since Hedwig was safely ensconced in the cottage with enough food and water for a day or so, Harry agreed. With his enlarging abdomen his center of gravity was all off and the risk of a fall was heavy on his mind.

Declining the offer of a nightgown, Harry stripped down to the sleeveless undershirt and boxers he wore beneath his clothes and snuggled under the heavy quilts in the guest room. He was exhausted and the baby was being active; after a long while, he drifted into an unsettled sleep.

Harry’s unsettled mind brought about a horrific dream in which all of his friends, seeing his swollen belly, had looked at him in distain and turned their backs on him. Just a pretty whore. That Bill laughed at him and told him he had never had feelings for him and that only Fleur was good enough. Just a pretty whore.

Harry’s dream shifted and he found himself back in Lord Voldemort’s custody. Lucius was kissing him, caressing him, acting out his odd parody of affection as he brought both of them to climax. Holding Harry, fucking Harry, telling Harry that only he would ever want Harry. Only he would want such a pretty whore.

*~*~*~*
Anne set down the novel she was reading in bed when she heard whimpers from her guestroom. Putting on her bathrobe and slippers, she padded across the hall. About to knock on the doorframe, she looked into the room. In the light of the street lamp she could see Rea’s thin form caught in the throes of a nightmare, tears streaking her cheeks.

The maternal instincts took over as the old woman hurried to the bedside. Rea was talking softly in her sleep; she listened closely as the words came into focus.

“No one will ever want you…you’re just a pretty whore…”

*~*~*~*
Staring at her bedroom ceiling, Anne tried to calm herself. She was furious. She finally had the answers to her questions about little Rea and a part of her wished she had never learned the truth.

Waking her young houseguest from the nightmare had opened the door to a kind of catharsis. Slowly, Harry revealed bits of his life, careful not to let anything about magic slip out. He told her of the Dursleys, the cupboard, of being a freak. About meeting his convict godfather who wanted to raise him but was not permitted to do so. About his godfather being murdered while trying to protect Harry. He told her about Hedwig, his friends and losing his virginity to Bill. Shaking violently, the abduction from Kings Cross Station and the subsequent rapes and impregnation. Of Aunt Petunia and Mrs. Weasley and their archaic view of unwed mothers. His pregnancy, escape, running away in disgrace, and the fear that Ministry officials would force an abortion. His lifelong desire to have a family that loved him and fear of being a whore no one would ever love.

Anne peeked into the guest bedroom. Rea was still asleep. She was glad of that. After finally baring her soul, the little girl was exhausted.

The woman stepped down the hall to the kitchen, her mind calculating her next move. There was much that could be done for Rea. She would call her niece Abby later today; Abby worked as a counselor in a rape crisis center. She could provide them with a place to start. Rea needed to talk to someone about her ordeal; she needed to understand that she was a victim, not a willing participant and certainly not a whore.

Had Rea been tested for STDs, Anne wondered. Rea had assured her she had seen a nurse-midwife for the pregnancy, but if the woman did not know about the gang rape, she would never think to test the shy girl for a sexually transmitted disease.

Poor girl thinking she was a freak; Anne wanted to strangle Rea’s aunt and uncle for raising their niece as a boy. She couldn’t even imagine the confusion and distress Rea must have suffered when she realized that her body did not look like her little boy friends bodies. Even when she was talking last night, Anne got the distinct impression that Rea still thought of herself as a boy.

A first Anne had been amused by Rea’s sleeveless man’s ribbed undershirt and boxer shorts, the little round tummy making her look like a man with a beer belly, but now she was livid. The girl didn’t even know to wear proper undergarments; heaven knew she was a flat-chested little thing, but the aunt should have taken her shopping for a brassiere.

*~*~*~*
Harry was horrified. Talking with the rape crisis counselors and taking an AIDS blood test had made sense, but standing in the dressing room being measured for his first brassiere did not make sense. The clerk allowed that many of her pregnant customers found boxer shorts more comfortable than maternity undergarments, but she and Anne were adamant that the man’s undershirt had to go. It was with a sense of relief that Harry escaped with three jersey camisoles and two sport bras.

He kept reminding himself that she was only trying to help as he stuffed the female lingerie into his dresser drawer.

*~*~*~*
Lucius apparated to a field beside a small cottage in the middle of a February night. Placing an obscuring charm around himself, he crept to a window and looked in. Moonlight shone into the small bedroom, illuminating the occupant. Long chestnut hair tumbled about a pale face, looking even younger asleep.

The white blond wizard apparated directly into the bedroom and contemplated the sleeping Harry. He cast a warming charm on the room and slipped out to investigate the rest of the cottage. Satisfied that Harry was the only human occupant, he returned to the bedroom, closing the door tightly behind him.

Smirking slightly, the dark wizard divested himself of his heavy winter robes and boots. The moonlight made his pale flesh glow. He pulled back the warm duvet and flannel sheets and examined his prize. Harry was curled up on his side, wearing only a nightshirt and thick woolen socks; a quick flick of his wand and Harry was nude.

Harry felt himself pushed flat on his back; his knees bent and spread open. Strong, cool hands caressed his face, his chest, and his thighs. They splayed across his rounded abdomen and he smiled as they jumped slightly when the baby kicked. Strange, he thought, this dream seemed more real than his usual hormone driven dreams; he never smelled cologne before. Cologne. His green eyes snapped open; he recognized the cologne.

Firm hands pinned his shoulders to the mattress as he began to struggle. One hand moved and a thumb caressed his temple.

“Don’t fight, Pet,” Lucius ordered in a soothing tone. “Relax.”

Harry tried to calm his racing heart. His eyes drifted to his bedside table but his borrowed wand was missing. Lucius twirled the ebony wand casually in his fingers.

“Looking for this?”

Lucius eyes took in the young wizard’s body; he had put on needed pounds since his escape and the healthy glow of pregnancy radiated from him. The dark wizard’s hand returned to Harry’s abdomen and a genuine smile graced the usually haughty visage when the baby kicked again. Lucius leaned down and kissed the lump. Harry started to shake.

“Hello, little one.” A large hand caressed Harry’s abdomen. “Are you my spare heir?”

Harry found his voice. “But…Voldemort…”

“Has claimed the child?” Lucius’ eyebrow arched. “If this proves to be my child, do you really think I’d let someone, even the Dark Lord, raise a Malfoy as his own?”

“What do you plan to do?”

“Do, pretty whore?” Lucius’ hands moved on to far more intimate caresses. “I’ve missed your sweet little body…it wasn’t nice of you to leave without a proper good bye.”

Once again Harry endured the kisses, the caresses, the odd affections of the older wizard as he found himself carefully prepared.

*~*~*~*
Lucius pulled on his boot and looked back at the thoroughly debauched Harry on the bed. Harry would not look at him, just caressed his pregnant belly and spoke soothing nonsense to it.

Lucius spelled Harry’s nightshirt and socks back on after performing a quick cleaning and healing spell. He tucked the flannel sheets and the duvet under the young wizard’s chin. He gave a final smoldering kiss to the swollen lips.

“I’ll be back to check on you from time to time, Precious.” He smirked the trademark Malfoy smirk. “You can change your appearance, but you can not change your blood or your magic…don’t bother to run, I will find you.”

Lucius pulled on his leather gloves and ran a finger down Harry’s cheek; Harry flinched. Lucius’ sharp white teeth glittered in the moonlight.

“Oblivate.”

~*~*~*
Winter became spring and Harry was finally able to do a little work in his garden but, by now, his abdomen had grown so large that it was difficult and occasionally dangerous to maneuver. At one time there had been a semi-formal English garden and a small corner devoted to herbs.

Awkwardly Harry pulled himself to his feet, holding on to a fieldstone wall for support. He entered the cottage, pausing briefly to wash his hands before hurrying to the bathroom. The baby seemed to take sadistic delight in kicking his bladder.

Sipping a cup of tea, Harry studied the midwife mediwizardry books. If he were to deliver his own child there seemed to be only two options open to him and both had their dangers. He could perform a spell to temporarily change his gender or perform a cesarean section. He preferred the c-section route, but if he cut too deep or if he passed out before he could heal himself, he would bleed to death.

He missed Sirius. His godfather would have known what he should do.

Harry’s mind drifted to Remus. Remus was good at healing spells and he was already ostracized by a large section of the wizarding world for being a werewolf. Even though he was considered a dark creature, Remus hated dark magic. Could Harry trust the wolf in Remus with the Dark Lord’s heir?

Harry picked at his sandwich; he wasn’t very hungry but if he lost weight, Anne would involve herself. He looked over to a laundry basket slowly filling with class “samples” Anne was giving him under the guise of “cleaning up”; Harry knew the bootees, sweaters and blankets were not samples or cast-offs but he played along with Anne’s harmless little game. She had also made him another version of the quilt he had first seen in the display case; Harry ran a finger over one of the appliqué white owls. She had said something about the original being a wall hanging and the batting being unsuitable for a baby’s quilt. As Harry often taught his own classes or watched the shop while her quilt classes were in session, he really did not know much about quilting and had just nodded his head like he understood.

Lord Voldemort still occasionally tried to invade Harry’s mind, but he was now able to detect the invasion almost as soon as it began and easily deflect it. Snape would have been pleased.

If there was anything Harry could be grateful for about his captivity, it was that Voldemort had partially severed their bond. Harry no longer had to bear witness to all of the Dark Lord’s atrocities and could often block the ones he did witness.

Lucius continued to visit and bed Harry, but Harry never remembered the visits as anything other than odd, erotic dreams.

~*~*~*
Mid-May found Harry in the midst of Spring-cleaning. He scrubbed his tiny cottage top to bottom and was tidying the garden when the first contraction hit. At first he wasn’t sure what was happening but he began to sense a pattern to the contractions and realized that he was either having Braxton-Hicks contractions or had gone into labor.

But it was too early. According to Voldemort’s calculations, the baby should arrive mid to late June. Harry gathered his wand and medical guides and changed into a nightshirt. He breathed through the sharp contraction. It was too late to send for help; he was on his own.

Harry tried to perform the incantation for the cesarean section spell but his magic was too unfocused and wild; the borrowed wand did not respond as well as one keyed to his magic would have. He couldn’t do it. He had been a fool to even think he could deliver the baby himself; his fear of discovery had sealed their fate. The baby’s magic would tear him apart trying to be born and they would both die.

*~*~*~*
Remus looked up from the kitchen table at Twelve Grimmauld Place to see Hedwig soar determinedly through the window. She latched onto his robe and tried to pull him to his feet. Several other members of the Order were meeting with him at the table.

Severus plucked the agitated owl off Remus’ shoulder. She pulled at his robes, frantically trying to get him to the window.

“Hedwig, do you want us to follow you?” Remus asked, and she calmed herself.

“Remmy,” Tonks got to her feet. “You can borrow my broom. It’s faster than your old Shooting Star.”

“I’ll go with you Lupin,” Severus said, reaching for his Cleansweep Seven. “Who knows what trouble Potter has managed to get himself into.”

“The brooms will be too slow, Severus.” Remus had a gleam in his eye. “I have something better…”

~*~*~*
“Enervate.”

Harry’s eyes opened and he focused on a pale arm marred by a Dark Mark. Merlin no, his mind screamed. He didn’t want to go back with Voldemort. Voldemort would steal his baby. He tried to bolt from the bed, but found himself restrained with a gentle, but firm, embrace.

“Calm down, Potter,” Severus said softly, his voice devoid of it’s usual malice. “Lupin has gone for Madam Pomfrey.”

Harry ceased his struggles, realizing that he was safe with Professor Snape. He was in too much discomfort to even wonder why the professor was there. “The baby…”

“The baby is fine. I have managed to slow the contractions. Madam Pomfrey will perform a cesarean section as soon as she arrives. It’s too late to try for a natural birth.” Severus watched as Harry rode out another violent contraction.

“Idiot child…even if you were a female you would have been hard pressed to deliver your own child…”

Harry breathed through clenched teeth and snapped at the Potions Master. “If I were female, I would have gone to a Muggle hospital, but being male, I could not exactly go there, could I? I’m sure that even a Pureblood such as yourself knows that Muggle men do not get pregnant.”

*~*~*~*
Anne was worried. Rea had not shown up for work that afternoon. Rea never missed a day of work before, even in the winter when the weather was terrible. After pacing for hours, she closed the shop early and walked to her car.

*~*~*~
Anne pulled in front of Harry’s cottage and immediately saw a large black motorcycle parked on the walkway. Rea had never mentioned visitors before. Curious, Anne made her way up the walkway.

The front door opened, revealing a man with graying hair. He stepped out onto the small porch and emptied out a basin of dark red water over a shrub. It looked like blood.

Remus looked up in surprise when he heard a strangled gasp a few feet away. An elderly Muggle woman stood, looking at the basin in his hands, horror on her face.

“Rea?” The woman shuddered. “Did something happen to Rea?”

Rea? Remus thought, momentarily confused, and then realized that Harry must have been using an alias. The woman looked familiar; he had seen her several times while performing the locator spell and he thought she was a friend of his godson.

“Harry…Rea will be fine…the baby came a few minutes ago.”

“But it’s too early…” Anne reached for her cell phone in her handbag. “Have you called for emergency transport to Hospital?”

Remus smiled tiredly. “It won’t be necessary, Madam. Madam Pomfrey delivered the baby and she’s been delivering babies since before either one of us was born.”

Anne looked closely at the man who beckoned her into the cottage. On closer examination, he was much younger than his hair indicated. Gaunt and rather pale, the man looked as if he had been ill for along time.

“Excuse me, but who are you?”

Remus wiped his hand on his faded Muggle jeans and extended it. “Remus Lupin. I am Harry’s godfather…and you are?”

Anne firmly shook his hand, surprised at the strength in his grip. “Anne Campbell…Rea works part time in my shop. I was worried when she didn’t show up for work this afternoon.”

~*~*~*
Severus walked into the living room with a tiny, towel wrapped bundle in his arms. He stopped abruptly when he saw the strange Muggle woman with Remus. Anne examined the tall, thin, black clad Potions Master. She looked at his robes and thought they were priest’s cassocks, but the man did not resemble any priest she had ever seen, especially with the long, lank hair and a tattoo peaking from beneath his sleeve.

“Severus,” Lupin said. “Anne Campbell, Harry’s employer…Mrs. Campbell. Severus Snape. He is one of Harry’s professors.”

Severus nodded his head politely in greeting. Remus and Anne peered into the towel nestled securely in his arms.

“It’s a boy.” Remus answered Anne’s unasked question.

“Lupin, Poppy needs another basin of water to finish sponging off Mist…Miss Potter…Then we’ll need to clean this one up.”

Without a word spoken, Anne held out her arms and after a moment’s hesitation, the newborn was placed in her embrace. Severus quickly covered the kitchen table with thick towels and ran water into another basin, testing the temperature with a quietly murmured charm. Anne was too busy counting fingers and toes to notice.

Remus returned from the bedroom with two vials of liquid, several cloth diapers and diaper pins. He placed the vials beside the basin. “Poppy says to add three drops of the green liquid to the bath water and the purple solution is for cleaning the umbilical stump.”

Severus sorted through the laundry basket containing the baby items. Harry had been adding to the hand knit articles. The dark wizard puzzled over the odd Muggle garments before returning with a drawstring nightgown, a t-shirt, socks, a hat, a lightweight blanket, and a heavier crochet blanket He also had a large plastic wrapped bundle of something called “Disposable Diapers” under his arm.

“Goodness,” Anne laughed as she saw the collection. “He’ll smother if we dress him in all of that.”

Madam Pomfrey joined them, as Anne was finishing washing the baby’s hair. The matron watched as Anne expertly fastened the tiny pink and blue patterned diaper, folding it down under the umbilical stump. Anne smiled at the elderly midwife.

“Disposable diapers…what a Godsend…wish they’d invented the things when my babies were small.”

Madam Pomfrey picked up the tiny boy. “Harry’s awake, but sedated. You can visit for a few minutes if you don’t get him…her excited. Severus, can you assist me with my examination, please?”

*~*~*~*
Remus and Anne sat beside Harry’s bedside. He was propped up at a slight angle and looked quite pale.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Anne brushed the damp hair off Harry’s forehead. “He’s beautiful.”

Harry’s green eyes searched Remus’ face. “I just got to see him for a moment before Snape took him away. Remmy, who does he look like?”

~*~*~*
Poppy glanced toward the bedroom door before she drew her wand and slowly ran it over the tiny baby. Her Qwick-rite quill stood poised on a pad beside her. “Healthy full-term male infant…5 lbs. 9 oz. … Nineteen inches…5:14 p.m. …May 16th. Born to Harry James Potter…aged eighteen…Paternus Pregnancy…second father unknown at this time.”

Poppy slipped on the tiny t-shirt and the nightgown. The baby made mewing noises. Glancing at the bedroom door again, she conjured a bottle and eased the nipple between the questing lips.

“Poppy, can we run a paternity test here or do we need to do it at Hogwarts?” Severus quietly asked.

“Hold his foot still. I’ll need to draw a sample.” The baby let out a howl as she drew a sample of blood from his heel and quickly healed the puncture. “It’ll be admissible evidence for the Wizengamot… If we can’t prove those bastards are Death Eaters, we can at least prove one of them is a rapist…that’s good for a life sentence in Azkaban.”

“There was something else I detected when I ran the diagnostic spells on Potter to slow the labor until your arrival.”

“The Oblivates?” The matron looked up as Severus nodded. “They concern me. They are almost surgically precise.”

“Then Potter didn’t perform them on himself…trying to escape…memories?”

“No. Whoever performed them knew exactly what he or she was doing. I examined Harry’s wand. He has used it to modify his appearance and to perform prenatal tests. And it’s nigh on impossible to perform an Oblivate wandlessly.”

~*~*~*
“Harry, I don’t understand why you thought we’d hate you. We’d have been so happy just to get you back alive…” Remus gathered Harry carefully into his arms. “I know what they did to you, love, but we would have found a way for you to get past it.”

“The baby…”

“Oh, love…a baby is a precious thing…I would have supported your decision either way…to bear it or to abort it…I was so scared…I lost Lily and James and then Sirius…I couldn’t bear to think I’d lost you too.”

“Remus, they ostracize you enough because of what you are…My baby is a bastard and the Death Eaters made me their whore…I couldn’t bring that kind of shame to you.”

Remus kissed his temple. “You let me worry about what kind of shame I’m willing to bear…you’re safe now and if our world can’t accept us…then the hell with them…we’ll start again somewhere else.”

Anne watched the older man interact with Rea and wondered what the fragile man could have done to be ostracized. He appeared to be a very gentle creature. The priest-like man and the matron in the starched white wimple seemed to be from another time, but neither had outwardly condemned her little girl. As unforgiving of illegitimate children as Rea indicated her friends and family were, perhaps these three were an enlightened minority.

Hedwig flew into the bedroom and perched on the headboard. Anne went to shoo her away, but Harry stopped her.

“She won’t stay long. She just wants to make sure I’m all right. She is very protective me.”

“And very intelligent.” Severus handed Harry his son, showing him how to properly support the infant’s back and neck and how to hold the bottle to prevent the ingestion of too much air. “It’s a good thing she is much more intelligent than her master.”

“Severus…” Remus growled.

“Idiot child…doesn’t know how close we came to losing them both.”

“Severus, not now.”

“No, Remus. Professor Snape is right…I am an idiot…but I really wasn’t expecting him for another month…. How did you find me, any way?”

Severus laughed, the memory of he and Lupin chasing after Hedwig on Black’s flying motorcycle fresh in his mind.

*~*~*~*
Anne left shortly after Harry drifted off to sleep. The witch and wizards breathed a collective sigh of relief; it had been getting harder not to let anything slip. Remus checked on the baby; he had been placed in a bassinette Madam Pomfey conjured from a kitchen colander.

The werewolf stroked a bright red curl of the infant’s hair. “Looks like he has Lily’s red hair…:

“That’s not Evans red,” Poppy began.

Remus looked at her sharply. “Did you run the paternity test? Little Sirius isn’t Voldemort’s, is he?”

“Baby Potter is full term…do you understand what that means, Mr. Lupin?”

Remus stared at her. “Harry was pregnant before the Death Eaters raped him…before he ever went to Kings Cross Station.”

“Ten points to Gryffindor.” Severus sneered. “And who do we know with bright red hair?”

*~*~*~*
Bill collapsed into his desk chair. He looked from his irate mother to the barely controlled werewolf. Even his usually jovial father stared at him gravely. For once he was grateful for the automatic silencing charms placed around his office in Gringotts Bank. His ears were still ringing from his mother’s tirade, but it was his father’s calm statement that brought the surreal situation into sharp focus.

“You will do what is right,” was all Arthur had said.

He was a father. He had a son.

~*~*~
Harry clutched his borrowed ebony wand in one fist, his other hand resting protectively on the edge of the bassinette. He heard the unmistakable sound of apparition in the sitting room beyond his line of sight. Severus held one thin finger to his lips, warning Harry to stay silent. The Potion Master moved soundlessly on a path to disarm the trespassers. Still weakened and recuperating in the bed, Harry would be of little practical help as a back-up.

Harry’s tense shoulders relaxed when Severus lowered his wand and softly spoke.

“Your godwolf has returned.”

~*~*~
Expecting Remus with a promised cup of tea, Harry looked up as a shadow fell across the duvet. He quickly glanced up at the tall man, flashed him a shy, crooked smile and looked down at the tiny newborn suckling at his bottle.

Harry let out a calming breath, trying to slow his fiercely beating heart. The older wizard gently stroked the baby’s head with his long, freckled fingers. He smiled at the slender young man propped up against a mountain of pillows.

“He is very beautiful, Love. Have you named him?”

Harry gave the man another quick glance and averted his eyes again. Nervously, he chewed on his lower lip.

“I named him after my godfather. Sirius. Sirius Potter.”

“Not Potter-Weasley?”

“You,” Harry swallowed hard. “You don’t have to claim him…I won’t tell anyone he’s yours….won’t ruin what you have with Fleur…just let me keep him.”

“Fleur? Fleur’s a friend, not a lover.” The curse breaker sat down next to Harry on the bed. He gathered the trembling young wizard into his arms, careful not to crush the drowsy infant. Bill’s fingers caressed a small red curl.

“He’s perfect. Why wouldn’t I want to claim him?”

Harry blinked away the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. “He’s a bastard child…and I’m nothing but a Death Eater’s whore…”

Bill closed his eyes, feeling the raw pain in Harry’s words wash over him.

“Siri’s not a bastard. I will acknowledge him. Remus has parchments Madam Pomfrey left for us to sign for the birth certificate…We just have to agree on his formal name, file it at the Ministry and its official.” Bill took Harry’s hands into his own. “And you…torture victim, not whore…never a whore. Rape is a crime of degradation, a crime of violence, never a crime of passion. I don’t want to hear you call yourself a whore…ever again.”

~*~*~
“Sirius Arthur James Potter-Weasley” Bill printed neatly in the blank space provided for baby’s name. In the space for father, he signed his own name with a flourish, leaving his thumbprint beside it as requested. Harry had already filled in the place for “mother”.

~*~*~
Bill knew he had a silly smile on his face as Sirius looked up at him with dark, unfocused eyes and he wondered what color they would turn - Weasley blue or Evans green? Green, he hoped, emerald green. Just like his mother’s.

“Sirius Weasley…that’s an oxymoron if I ever heard one.” Bill thought to himself in amusement. “Severus Snape will have his hands full with you in eleven years…”

Bill changed the soiled nappy and re-wrapped Sirius tightly in a soft flannel blanket. After years of taking care of his younger siblings, he knew newborns liked the security of being swaddled. The red haired wizard looked over to the bed, watching the slow rise and fall of the duvet. Harry slipped off to sleep minutes earlier. Bill looked up as Hedwig returned from her nightly hunt and perched on the footboard, examining her family.

“Lo, Hedwig.”

She chirruped softly in greeting.

Bill toyed with a lock of Harry’s still copper hued hair. He itched to remove the glamour, to see his beloved Harry again, but before he left for the evening, Remus had mentioned a Muggle friend would probably stop by in the morning to check up on Rea and the baby.

After settling the now sleeping Sirius into his bassinette, Bill leaned over and kissed Harry gently on the lips. Asleep, Harry shied away from the intimacy.

“Damn them.” Bill cursed under his breath. “You are worth much more than you think you are.”

Hedwig chirruped in agreement. Bill stretched out on the bed beside Harry and kissed the exposed shoulder. Harry startled, but did not awaken.

“Don’t you know?” Bill whispered, eyes never straying from his lover’s face. “I plan to keep both of you forever.”

*~*~*~*
Lucius apparated into the bedroom of the tiny cottage. As with his other visits, Harry was asleep. The dark wizard pulled down the bedding and stared in surprise. The slight wizard was dressed in a t-shirt and boxer shorts; his stomach was almost flat. Where was the baby?

His attention was caught by a soft, snuffling sound in the corner. Quietly he approached the bassinette and examined the sleeping newborn. He ran his wand above the infant, murmuring a spell. He sighed. The child was not his nor did it belong to Lord Voldemort. Lucius was stunned by the wave of sadness that struck him; he had not realized until that moment how much he had desired another child.

“Expelliarmus.” A deep voice said quietly from the bedroom door. Lucius spun as his wand darted from his hand, only to be caught by a tall, thin silhouette. He blinked in the sudden artificial brightness as Bill switched on the overhead light.

“Step away from Harry and my son, Malfoy.” Bill indicated for him to move, keeping his wand and eyes locked on the white blond wizard.

“Your son? My, my, what a surprise…would have thought my pretty whore would have better taste in men.”

“He’s not yours and he’s not a whore.” Bill growled, pulling himself up to his full height and managing to look intimidating while wearing a plaid nightshirt.

Lucius was not about to underestimate Bill Weasley’s strength or intelligence as a wizard. Cursebreakers were extremely powerful and well versed in all forms of magic – light and dark, ancient and modern – and Bill had the reputation of being one of the best in the business.

His lip curling into a smile, Lucius looked up and down Harry’s slight body before locking onto the bright green eyes. He fingered a second wand hidden in the folds of his robe.

“”I’ll miss you, Precious.” He purred and disapparated.

Bill hurried over to Harry, who had gone as white as his bed sheets. “Harry?”

Harry was shaking and gave no indication he had heard Bill.

“Harry!”

Harry’s body jerked at the sound. “Weren’t dreams…” he whispered. “I had dreams that Malfoy came into my bed and had sex with me…I thought they were a weird combination of my erratic hormones and coming to terms with being raped…He just called me Precious…he never called me Precious when I was a prisoner…only in those dreams.”

Bill pulled the slight man into his arms and felt him stiffen at the touch. Damn Lucius Malfoy to the Nine Hells.

“Bill…did he hurt Sirius?”

“No, Love. Siri is fine. He ran a paternity charm of some sort.” Bill caught Harry’s chin and gently turned it so their eyes met. “We have to leave…now.”

“Leave?” Harry echoed in confusion.

“Malfoy knows where we are…and he now knows Siri isn’t his…for all we know he’ll bring the Death Eaters down on us.”

*~*~*~*
Anne had cried so much she had no more tears. Rea’s little cottage had burned to the ground. The fire inspectors found evidence of a gas explosion. They had found no human remains, but the fire burned so hot it melted metal. Rea, unable to escape with Baby Sirius, would have been incinerated.

She picked up the charred remains of a pompom snowman; it was the only identifiable object to survive the blast.

*~*~*~*
He was so beautiful, so perfect, and so compact. Bill’s eyes took in his slim bond mate, his long black hair tumbling over his shoulders and down his back in gentle waves. Harry had wanted to cut it now that he was no longer impersonating a female, but Bill liked the long hair.

Harry had exited the bathroom clad only in patterned silk boxers. Take it slow, Bill reminded himself. He could feel Harry trembling as he took him in his arms. He nibbled on Harry’s ear and worked his way down the slight wizard’s throat. For the first time, Harry did not pull away in a panic.

He gently caressed his lover’s face and kissed him again, a little more passionately. Tentatively, Harry returned his kisses, slightly parting his lips to permit entrance. Slowly his tongue dueled with Harry’s and gradually became more demanding. Bill ran his hands over the slight body, toying with the waistband of the boxer shorts. Harry inhaled a quivering breath.

“Yes,” Harry whispered.

Bill picked him up and laid him into the middle of the bed. Green eyes glittered in the candlelight. Unconsciously, Harry’s hand rested atop the cesarean scar on his lower abdomen.

Removing the rest of his own clothing, Bill joined Harry on the bed. Harry examined him – thin, but finely muscled and, like the rest of the Weasley’s, covered in freckles. He swallowed as he saw Bill’s penis, nestled in a bed of red curls; he had been trying not to think of the consummation aspects of the bonding ceremony.

Bill nibbled and kissed Harry’s slim body; he noticed the trembling, but decided to ignore it unless it got worse. After what Harry had experienced, it was normal for him to feel apprehensive. Bill removed Harry’s boxers and rolled the slender form on top, aroused by the full body contact. He pushed Harry up so he was straddling his hips; Harry’s hand moved to cover the multiple scars on his hip, but Bill caught his wrist and brought it to his lips. The scars were in the shape of human bite marks; there were matching patterns on his shoulders.

Lightly, he ran his fingers over a scar on Harry’s hip. Bill felt Harry’s pulse quicken and his thighs tremble before he stiffened, rolled off Bill and curled into a tight ball, afraid to make eye contact, afraid of rejection.

Bill gathered him into his arms, kissing him, caressing him.

“Harry?”

“S-sorry,” his voice was so soft Bill almost didn’t hear it.

“You’ve done nothing to be sorry for.” Bill forced Harry to make eye contact. “I didn’t mean to scare you…are we moving too fast?”

Harry shook his head and looked away again. Bill shuddered to think what must be going through Harry’s mind, what he must have endured as Voldemort’s prisoner and what it was like to be treated as a thing, not a human.

“Harry, I will never hurt you.” Bill kissed his shoulder. He began to work his way down, teasing a nipple, nibbling on an inner thigh. He worked slowly until Harry’s body was receptive to his touch. Bill licked the cesarean scar; Harry froze a moment and then relaxed.

~*~*~*
“Yes,” Harry whispered and Bill slowly inserted a lubricant-coated finger into his tight entrance. The older wizard whispered words of love, of encouragement, kissed and caressed him to help him relax. Two fingers, three, four. Harry’s delicious gasps of pleasure amused Bill as he paid special attention to the prostate. Bill removed his fingers and coated his erection in the lubricant.

”Now, please.”

Bill curled his hands around Harry’s hips; fearful green eyes locked on the red head’s face. He felt something larger than a finger nudge between his legs and he forced himself to relax. Bill captured his lips in a fierce kiss as he entered with slow, shallow thrusts. Harry whimpered into Bill’s mouth, tears glazing his eyes.

Bill began to withdraw, concern etched on his face, but Harry stopped him.

“I-I’m…I…It’s…love you.”

When Bill was buried to the hilt, he paused for Harry to adjust to the fullness. Slowly he began to thrust, Harry’s whimpers of discomfort and panic becoming gasps of pleasure. Bill repositioned Harry’s hips for deeper penetration. Harry was making wonderful sounds that only increased as Bill reached between them and began fisting his cock. He could feel Harry tighten before he came violently. Bill increased the speed of his thrusts, holding the shaking wizard, before emptying his seed deep within his mate.

~*~*~
Lucius angrily crumpled the morning edition of “The Daily Prophet” and pushed himself away from the table, his breakfast barely touched. Robes billowing, he strode briskly from the room.

Draco’s pale eyebrow arched in a silent communication with his mother. In the months that followed the Death Eater attack on Platform 9-3/4 and the Hogwarts Express, the senior Malfoy wore the uncharacteristic air of preoccupation. Both his wife and son tread uneasily around him, never asking questions for fear of possible violent repercussions.

Narcissa smoothed out the crumpled newsprint and scanned the front page. What ever had set Lucius off had appeared there. Her manicured finger paused on a small flashing box in the corner. “Boy-Who-Lived Bound to Cursebreaker in Simple Ceremony…Details on Page 3.”

Mother and son exchanged an unmasked look of surprise. Although neither had voiced it, both had assumed the captured Harry Potter did not survive the Dark Lord’s “affections”.

~*~*~*
Bill propped himself up on his elbow and watched Harry sleep. So beautiful, so gentle. He leaned over and kissed the lightening bolt scar. He loved Harry so much, but part of him missed the awkward, fearless boy the Death Eaters had destroyed.

Harry cuddled, tucking himself comfortably against him. Large green eyes opened and he smiled shyly. Bill wrapped his arms around the dark haired wizard and pulled him onto his chest. Harry returned his kisses but did not initiate any of his own. Too passive, Bill thought, much too passive and that would never do.

Bill reached to the bedside table and picked up the vial of lubricant. He placed it in his young lover’s hand.

“Harry.” Bill nibbled casually at Harry’s throat before kissing him deeply. “It’s your turn to top.”

Harry’s eyes widened and then he smiled.

*~*~*~*
Anne sorted her mail, pausing at a medium sized envelope with no return address and a London Postal Mark. Carefully opening one end with a letter opener, several photographs and a letter tumbled out.

One photograph featured a red haired, green-eyed baby boy lying on a multi-color quilt with appliquéd owls and cats; he was sucking on his toes. The other photograph was a group photo, Rea and Remus standing out in a sea of red hair and freckles. For some reason, Rea had dyed her beautiful chestnut hair black.

“Dear Anne,

I am sorry if I worried you, but I have gone back home. Just after Sirius was born, I was visited by one of the men that kidnapped me. Apparently he has been keeping tabs on me and wanted proof that Siri was not his son. Thankfully, we were not alone when the man dropped by; I would hate to imagine what might have happened.

I had not realized that the cottage burned until Remus went to pick up the possessions I had left behind. My elders thought it best if everyone think Sirius and I died in the blaze so no one would look for me anymore, but I wanted you to know we were safe.

Siri is getting so big and he is a delight. If he is anything like his uncles or his godfather, I will have my hands full.

The tall red head with the ponytail and earring is my mate, Bill. He’s twenty-six and I can hear you saying he’s much too old, but as my new mother-in-law stated – we really should have thought about that nine months ago. Bill has been very understanding of the ordeal my kidnappers put me through, so it probably worked out that he isn’t an immature boy. I don’t think I could cope with someone who viewed me as damaged goods.

I will be finishing up my schooling – my new family insists on it – with the help of Remus and Professor Snape. They have agreed to tutor me, which I think is very nice of them. You may have guessed that Snape is a bit of a snarky git, but he has always come through for me, even if he hasn’t always liked me too well in the past.

Once everything calms down, perhaps I’ll be allowed to bring Siri into the shop for a visit, but with everything that has happened to me, no one is letting me too far out of their sight.

Thank you for being there when I truly needed a friend. Please let your niece know that I am continuing with my counseling.

Your friend,
Rea Potter Weasley”

*~*~*~*
From the darkened entrance of a vacant Diagon Alley shop, Lucius examined the faint glow of lights emanating from windows on the third level of the Gringotts Wizarding Bank. After casting the locator charm, he smiled grimly.

He was beginning to appreciate how clever the green-eyed wizard actually was. Harry had not acted in typical Gryffindor fashion. He had not withdrawn into the protection of the Fidelius Charm, had not moved to that hovel in Ottery St. Catchpole, nor had he retreated to the relative safety of Hogwarts. His Precious was hiding in plain sight.

Lucius continued his solitary vigil, watching the windows darken one by one until only a few scattered lights remained. He had long suspected that the floors above the main banking floor contained more than offices and meeting rooms; the locator charm proved his hypothesis to be correct. There were also apartments. Nestled in the midst of goblin security wards, Harry Potter was as safe as if he were concealed in one of the ancient underground vaults still guarded by dragons.

Diagon Alley grew dark as the shops closed for the evening. The usually crowded alley emptied out as witches and wizards returned to their homes. Lucius shook back his heavy mane of pale hair and tucked his serpent cane under his arm. With one last look at the bank building, he strode off toward Knockturn Alley, his boot heels echoing on the cobblestone.

It was time to let go of the pleasant memory of sweet young flesh writhing beneath his fingers and the whimpered sounds of forced passion. As much as he wanted to sink into his pretty pet one final time, he knew it would never happen. Precious was Weasley’s whore now and it was beneath his Malfoy dignity to fight the cursebreaker for him.

From the vantage point of his unlit office window, Bill watched impassively as the dark wizard melted into the blackness of Knockturn Alley. He tucked his wand back into its holster.

“Thank you for notifying me of his presence, Griphook.”

The goblin’s sharp teeth glittered in the fading light. Goblins did not usually involve themselves in wizarding political affairs, but Bill was a valuable member of the Gringott’s staff – family if you will – and goblins defended what was theirs rather tenaciously.

~*~*~*
Sirius splashed happily in the kitchen sink, occasionally dousing Harry with a wave of bath water. The slight wizard looked toward the door, watching Bill lounging against the door jam; his eyes perused the tall figure in a most provocative manor.

Hormones, thought Bill as he wrapped his arms around his lover; he pulled aside the thick black braid to nibble at Harry’s neck. His large hands caressed the smaller figure, finally resting on Harry’s large, swollen abdomen. Twins. After this latest development, they were going to have to seriously consider contraceptive charms. Harry caught his lips is a bruising kiss that was interrupted by another wave of bath water and a giggle.

Bill plucked Sirius from the sink, wrapping him into a fluffy bath towel. With a healthy dose of kisses, tickles and giggles, the baby was diapered, fed, and tucked into his crib.

“Go to sleep, Siri. Playtime is over. Daddy needs some quiet time with Papa.”

~*~*~*
Harry curled up against Bill, wrapped securely in the long arms. Idly, he ran his fingers through the thick red curls on Bill’s chest and abdomen.

“Did you tell them?” he asked quietly.

Bill kissed the top of his head. “Yes.”

“What did they say?”

“After Griphook stopped laughing, he assured me that there was no cause to worry. They aren’t going to sack me.” Harry’s hand rested on the gentle swell of Bill’s abdomen. “While they have never had a pregnant cursebreaker before…they have no problem with me being their first.”

*~*~*~
FIN