For Survival

 Disclaimer: I do not own in anyway or form the characters nor the world of Harry Potter, they belong to the author who has created them, nor am I making any money from this story.

Author's note: This story should be pretty straight forward, I do not intend for it to be overly long. This will contain HP/DM, HP/BZ, there will be homosexual sex implied and graphic (I hope), male pregnancy and deceptions. This story follows the story and begins the last week of August 2005. Yes I know I take forever to post... sorry!

Warnings: Sorry for the cliffhanger! Sorry! Don't kill me!

Summary: Dealing with the death of his first lover, an overbearing second one and a pregnancy that is not what it seems might have been more than Harry had planed and wanted for his life after the war.



 

For Survival

Chapter Five

Justice?

Previous Chapter:

He was in the recovery room when a head of fine blond hair burst in quickly followed by the dreaded Italian man. Both exclaimed as one that they would claim the children/child as their. Thus the magic took effect and he was washed over by the power of both men restricting both men from coming near him and preventing them both from killing one another. He was doomed, that's what he was!

On with the story:

Apparently one of Florence Hughes letters had reached Draco. Otherwise how would he have known it was twins he was carrying? But more importantly how long had the blond been in the country? What had brought him back and how? There were currently more questions than answers. The court hearing relating to his future and the life his children would have to live was underway and for the duration his lover could not come near him. The only relief was that neither could Blaise.

While the Italian born man was happy enough to stay away and simply tried to ruin his life from a distance his British lover was using his cunning to the very end if only to just get a glance of him. In the last week alone he had been held in temporary detention at the auror's bureau twice. Both of them for a duration of 24 hours and a hefty fine for breaking the temporary custody place on him and the children stating that he was placed under the care of the Ministry of Magics without visitation right until such a time as the parenting of the children be discovered at birth.

Harry had been left out of the proceeding whom had simply wanted him to be there for the pictures 'to go with the files as procedure dictates'. Pictures that would undoubtedly be leaked into the next morning's Prophet to go along with the scandalous title Rita 'Beetle' Skeeter would wisely create.

But since Florence Hughes was not to be trifled with and he was not to get his butt out of bed, there were two moving pictures separated by a question mark in the next morning's news edition. One was of a 'grieving' Blaise whom was said to be distraught at learning that he and Draco had not separated and that he had been tricked into a relationship and only wanted the good of his children and the other of a fuming Malfoy who was refusing to comment until he had spoken to his fiance. To go with the absurdity of 'THE-MAN-WHO-LIVES-TO-CHEAT-ON-RICH-MEN' was the interviews of people he had last seen years before when going to school with them. Women and men alike that pretended to have slept with him and had been abandoned. He supposedly had four children out of wedlock with different women he had never heard of that simply 'wanted him back in their lives'. Men who were willing to fight for him and 'their' children. He would ask his real and only lover to sue them all.

The simple matter of a fight between the only two men he had slept with was now blown out of proportions. There were dozens of claims now and each were treated as if they were real and he really was a tramp. Since he could not be questioned with veritaserum and that all of these men really did believe they had wooed him no one could know the true. It felt more personal than the propaganda during his fifth year ever had. He had to be told again and again more or less patiently that he couldn't take the truth potion and he asked again and again until an impatient Annabelle snapped that it could cause miscarriage and he left it at that.

Florence promised him to print a pamphlet about male pregnancies for the wide public as soon as the whole ordeal was over. She feared that having it distributed now would only cause more problems for them and he sincerely agreed with her; when had telling the truth ever worked when the media were neck deep into weaving lies?

His nurses and doctor were on tenterhooks. The amount of magic used in the muggle hospital and all the oblivations done in the last days were making the non-magical folks irritated, hyper and confused. It was to the point of becoming dangerous for the staff and for their patients. He was told he would need to be transferred to St-Mungo's hospital into an isolation room for his contagious disease that did not exist and he was refusing point blank. He would not return to the rooms where he had been held captive or any such sort room into that trice damned hospital. The magical healing transportation staff had been sent flying out of the room by his wild magic on two occasions before they decided to fight in court for the right to magically damper him for forced conveyance.

Negotiation were underway with healer Hughes to stash him into a birthing house until the children were delivered where she could proceed to cast the parenting charm that she knew only too well. Draco was all for the comfort of his beloved and was agreeing with the old woman while Blaise was taking a nasty pleasure into denying them. Some other men wanted Harry to be returned home and would gladly await their lover to 'naturally' give birth. How that could ever be possible neither the medical staff caring for him nor the Wizengamot knew. Those claims, for the danger they posed, were dismissed. Others seemed unconcerned by the facts and chose to bow out of the decision. The staff of St-Mungos were fighting to have the care of the savior, the fame that would come with it and not much later the funds that more patients would bring them.

The justice body had their hands full. They had to make a decision taking into account well being, stress levels, chances of leakage in the news of private information and please everyone around or risk being sued. Malfoy being a very loud voice in Dr Hughes corners with many lawyers already hired.

While the matter was being settled he was forbidden from leaving the room he was locked in, even for muggle medical testing or treatment, and had to have an auror with him at all time for the duration of the proceedings. It was how he got to be watched over by his best friend Ronald Bilius Weasley and Neveille Longbottom who had postponed his resignation and his employment at Hogwarts in a show of solidarity. While their presence had been another cause of discord brought on by the Zabini family, the head of the auror office Gawain Robarts put his foot down and wondered aloud if anyone was daring to say that the work of his forces was anything but pristine. No one raised another complain after or so his friends had said...

The head of the Wizengamot, a certain Mike Jacobson decided to stop the body he worked for from tearing itself apart in indecision. While many preferred to see their savior in the hands of many senior healer of St-Mungo for health reason and probably for the gossip they would be able to leech, some listen to what his healer was saying and believed that the comfort of a pregnant being came first. However both sides had valid points and by this point he knew there were no reasoning with either stand. He told them that he alone would take the decision after having had the opportunity to speak with Mr Potter about his own decision and would take the fall back on his own including prosecution if needed.

Said conversation had been short and to the point with no strange wording or evading of the subject. His wish to go to the birthing house had been turned into the official Wizengamot decision. His wish to keep Dr. Hughes for his sole doctor was respected and his nurses all got their sabbatical together to keep an eye on him at said healer's demand. While he was told that the verdict would not please the Zabini's, half the judicial body and most of the wizarding population, it was decided that none other but the pregnant wizard should decide where they should give birth. Harry was told that they were creating a precedent for other people and, should their situation be similar, their legal representative should be able to put it to good use. With a wink thee old man departed and left him be.

Harry was glad the man did not ask him any more personal questions. He did not know if he would have been able to answer.

His transfer had been ordered minutes later and took place a few days later. He found himself on the road to a small cottage Merlin knew where, transported by ambulance, non magical folks only, with his doctor as sole guard. His auror friends were ahead mapping the territory with his nurses while he was en route.

Motion sickness had always been a problem of his. It was why he absolutely abhorred magical means of transport. It was why he usually had liked cars; he could see where he was going and what was at risk of happening, even in his whale of an uncle's car and the man's dangerous and risky driving style. But the stretcher was facing backward. The limited view he had of outside was making him dizzy and each bump and hole in the pavement felt worse than they probably were.

Panic was slowly rising. He was uncertain of where he was going, how he would give birth, if both his children would make it and be healthy or if damage had already been done. When would he see Draco again? Would the blond even want him back after all that had happened? How would he even tell his fiancé? He could not be made to relax. He would not accept to be told to do so.

Having passed the last few days on total bed rest his lower back, legs and his head were killing him. He felt like his bony hips and shoulder had left a permanent imprint on the hospital bed he had left hours ago. On the left side more than the right he thought. He had favored that position because he felt it would help his smaller child by not squishing him more than he was. He was told that this mode of thinking was silly. That no it would not harm either baby to lay which ever side but why take the risk? He had not been able to lay on his back for close to nine weeks now. The weight of his abdomen gave the impression of crushing in spine. Like it did now. Because of course the damnable idiots driving the nightmarish vehicle had strapped him on his back. While one of them was supposed to stay with him in what would have been a normal transport both had run for the front seats after he threaten them with bodily harm to private portions of their anatomies. Doctor Hughes would forever laugh at the cowardice of men when their nuts were close to a flame.

He felt like having a pumpkin pie with peanut butter, honey, white chocolate chip and pepperonis, possibly all broken down and mixed into a bowl for easier spooning and chewing time. He added to the list a butter beer to drink. Or maybe mix the butter beer with the rest and drink milk at the side?

His whole world was centered between nausea, panic, pain and hunger.

Since he could settle for no comfort at the moment he simply let himself cry. Cry like he never had before. Not on his parents grave. Not at Fred, Remus or Dumbledore's deaths. Not when he found himself prisoner of Blaise either. But one low comment about hormones sent him in an apoplectic rage. He wanted to ex the good for nothing health professional and curse him to live a life of nightmare. He was just about to reach for his want when he felt the light touch of a sleeping spell taking hold over his consciousness.

He woke up in a room that looked freshly painted off white with pale wooden furniture and small green accents here and there. He could see a frozen forest threw the window to his right. The door leading into a fully furnished bathroom and the one leading to the rest of the house were open. There was no sign of any yellow garbs, mask or gloves like he and the medical staff had been forced to wear. No garbage and laundry bin to throw them in were in sight. The place felt magical. He could feel wards all around him, unplotables maybe? No, they felt too strong. Simple sheltering wards? No too subtle for that. A fidelius charm? Yes it had the same feel that Grimauld place had given him. He felt safe. His babies were safe here. They could not be found here as long as the holder of the charm kept his trap shut. Harry swore revenge if he did not.

The calendar he could glimpse at once he had found his glasses on the bedside table showed that it was the 15^th of March 2006. The clock showed 7:23, in the evening would be his guess since he had left the hospital the same morning.

He had trouble understanding that the proceeding of giving him the right to chose where to give birth, to find a suitable place and to transport him had taken nearly two weeks. He had now been pregnant for a bit over 28 weeks and he was more than ready for this ordeal to be done and over with.

Hope bloomed in his heart. Now that he was in a magical birth house would it mean he would no require a epidural like he would have at the muggle hospital? The first smile in weeks placed itself on his face and would not leave. All those needles were torture instruments! How did muggles cope with all of that? He would take nasty potions to needles any and everyday! At least the could be transferred into his stomach without him having to drink them at worse.

He soon learned that Ron was the holder of his fidelius and that he had only told Hermione the exact position of the birthing cottage. That no other patients were present and only the owner of the place was present with the exception of his four nurses and Florence. He was told that his best girl friend was currently helping the blond shopping for new born stuff. Both muggle and magical appliances. That Draco and her had the control over everything even the car safety seat. The redhead kept going over how much stuff was needed and that he had trouble believing it would all be put to good use.

He was to let them know if Harry had any preference for the decoration and if he knew the sex to help with the shopping maybe? Pale neutral colors and no idea were the answers. It inflamed the man's temper.

His best friend flew out of his chair and ran down the hall to where ever it was he went to scream his face purple at his doctor for refusing to tell him the sex of his children. No matter what Ron would never stop to think or to get all of the facts before reacting and for the thousandth time at least it got him in trouble. The man's swearing was cut short by his own undignified squeak mid sentence. Florence really could hold herself in a fight and had the presence Molly Weasley always carried around her naughty brood.

“Listen here young man! You will apologize for this misbehavior or be sent away for replacement! I did not hold the knowledge of the twin's sex from their own birthing parent that would be unethical and cruel! Harry does not know because Harry does not want to know you hooligan! Some parents prefer having a surprise and you nearly broke it with your big mouth! Now before you put a foot in it you will go back to that boy's bedside and think about your actions until such a time as you are ready to make a sincere and heart felt apology to both me and madam Roselyn here. While you are at it do not forget to make one for your bedridden friend!”

Seconds later Ron was lead by his ear into the room and forced to sit back in his chair. He sent a short missive to his wife by mail and uttered a stuttered a few words and what sounded like a hastily said sorry in the vague direction of the bed. His ability to use words really had not improved any in the last years. It was funny.

His medical treatments were now offered with magic. His stress level being so high bot Florence and Roselyn were fearing a premature birth and were sending spell after spell at the twins to strengthen their muscles, mature their lungs and promote a healthier and larger exchange of nutrients from him to them. Every two hours the nurses were watching for signs of the birthing process and to evaluate the progress of the foetuses.

The first time he felt a twinge in his lower back was on Friday the 17^th of May at 6:43 in the morning. The discomfort woke him up but was gone seconds later. Harry simply changed sides and went back to sleep.

The second time he felt it, hours later, the spasm was a bit more painful but was gone just as fast. It made his mood sour and he ordered Ron to massage his feet. When the man refused out of disgust he got a slap behind the head from Jacob and a foot rub from the playful nurse with a side of tickle to bring him back to a good mood.

The third time he just had to complain but no trace of it was found by the time it took to cast the diagnostic charm. So he went to sleep and forgot all about it until the next day at three in the night when it came back with a vengeance.

Like the morning previous he tried to simply relocate himself to his other side and go back to sleep but before he could fall into dream land another rocked his world. And another 30 minutes later and another again.

He tried to be subtle and call for someone but when the fifth wave hit him and he still had not gotten his sleeping friend's attention he simply waved his wand into making a loud bang and waited for everyone to surround him.

After a short examination the spasms were found to be Braxton Hicks contractions. They were not labor pains but bladder pain. He was made to drink a huge glass of water and slowly levitated to take a warm bath much to his pleasure. He would never ever again call a woman who had been pregnant even once weak. To survive all these troubles one had to be strong and he nodded along with his thoughts. From the look on poor Ron was sure he was losing his mind.

The non labor related contractions eased a bit but never really went away and he hoped they would not stay until he did give birth. While always constant in their level of pain they came every 45 minutes to an hour never skipping a beat. It made the women laugh a bit at his disgruntled face every time they asked him how he felt.

The 18^th of March really was a pain up his butt! He just wanted to sleep and forget about that day.





Delia Cerrano

Thank you! You are a dear!

Thrnbrook

Answers all in next chapter! Promise!

SlythindorMalfoy

Harry does deserve better! I do agree with that!

Glad you liked the last update! Hope you'll like this one too!

Myuna-chan

Thank you for the reviews! They are well appreciated!