Changing Minds in Hard Times

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Madam Pomfrey stepped forward from where she had been standing to the left of the couch, her white apron uncharacteristically splattered with what appeared to be part of a bright blue potion.



She seemed to notice Draco’s questioning gaze, and muttered a quick “Don’t ask.” making a face that told Harry it was probably caused by Mad-Eye Moody. Draco raised an eyebrow and motioned for the older woman to speak.



“I believe that there is one consideration we haven’t looked into yet. We all know that the Dark Lord’s blood was warped when he was brought back this last time, and that he no longer has the same genetics as he did when he was the young Tom Riddle.” She looked to over to Harry, who tried to smile encouragingly, before her eyes went back to the pale blond man sitting on the couch.



“I suggest we try to find a way to either set back the genetic code in the child to that of Tom Riddle, before he became the Dark Lord, or if that is not acceptable, we could perhaps find an abnormality in the child that could cause it to automatically be rejected from Draco’s body naturally, and thus, not harm the carrier, or be reabsorbed into his uterine wall.”



Everyone in the room seemed to consider those options, and all was silent for several minutes. Harry was the first to break the silence.



“While I don’t like the idea of harming a potentially innocent child, as long as Draco agrees, and as long as he would be safe in any choice we make, I would be willing to try those possibilities.”



Draco stared up at him, and then nodded slowly. “Anything to get rid of the evil Voldemort put inside of me.” The rest of the people in the room watched the situation before them, knowing that while the blond said ‘anything’, he meant ‘anything short of harming myself or Harry’s child.’



---X---



Nightfall came and went, and Harry, his blond mate, and Madam Pomfrey were found together in the Infirmary, trying to unravel which parts of the child’s DNA were evil, and which parts were completely human.



Hermione came in shortly after dinner, carrying a tray piled high with food for Harry and Draco, while Ron followed stubbornly behind. Just because he didn’t like Harry’s new mate didn’t mean he didn’t have to support his best friend. Especially since Hermione told him she wouldn’t have sex with a bigot.



Ron seated himself in one of the chairs placed a bit away from the blonds’ cot, and waited while Hermione set down the tray and busied herself making sure both Harry and Draco ate.



Draco took some eggs without much pushing from the motherly Granger, and ate them slowly under both Harry’s and Hermione’s watchful gaze. Harry didn’t push him to eat more. Hermione didn’t either. And Draco was oddly thankful.



Madam Pomfrey continued to bustle around, working on a spell to reverse some of the genetics in the child back to a pre-Voldemort state. Though she didn’t quite know what would happen if they succeeded, she knew enough to think that either the embryo’s DNA would revert back to a stage where the spell Voldemort cast would no longer recognize the child as his own, and allow it to be aborted, or perhaps, even if Draco’s body would not allow an abortion, the child would no longer carry the evil its genetic donor did.



Either would be considered a success in her book. She was sure Harry and Draco would agree. She was deeply concerned about the young blond man, however. The dull, unconcerned look in his eyes had not faded. He still looked like he had little hope for this situation to be solved in a productive manner.



But she could do little for the boy’s mood, so she plowed on with her studies, searching for something to help the pair, and the Wizarding world. By the time the clock struck midnight, Madam Pomfrey had been forced to give up for the night. She cast a privacy spell around the area the brunette and blond occupied, shooed out Harry’s friends, transfigured the cot Draco was on to fit both him and Harry, and bade the two goodnight, promising to be back first thing in the morning to continue the spell research.



Draco cuddled into Harry’s body, feeling the brunettes’ magical signature reaching into his body. He could tell when the magic found the child that wasn’t Harry's. It reared back, almost snarling, if magic could. It circled around the ball of light that was not part of its energy, looking for a way in, looking for a way to change it.



When Draco dropped into sleep, Harry’s magical energy was still trying to find a way into the unwanted child’s body, even as it was soothing and encouraging the growth of the other child in the shared womb.



Harry placed a hand over the place he knew Draco’s magical womb was, wishing he could change things for the better. His magic coiled within him, in answer to his wishes, and moved out of his body, flowing into the blond. And as he drifted to sleep himself, he couldn’t help but wonder what was happening. Why his hand tingled with the itch of powerful magic, and why Draco’s body seemed to hum with an answering flow of magic, growing and pulsing with power.