First draft. One-shot.
Written in one go, in a few hours, so probably a lot of mistakes.
In a world where babies just shimmer into shimmer into existence on a random bed, no pregnancy, no conceiving, nothing, the baby that is born or your bed is your baby. This makes things a bit different. Beds are bigger now, and the kids sleep with their parents. Only if you wanted a baby did you get your own bed. As each bed operates randomly, it may be years before the next child shimmers into existence, or minutes. As such humans have evolved to survive on their own for days after they were born, and the law says that each bed must be either used or watched regularly.
Of course, no one had ever told eight year old Harry Potter how babies were made. When there was suddenly a baby on the tiny cot that he considered his bed in the cupboard that he considered his room, he had no idea how it had gotten there. All he knew was that this baby was his baby, and he would protect it and care for it and love it no matter the cost.
He picked it up gently, uncertainly. What was he supposed to do with it? Him, he saw now. His baby was a boy. He had the most beautiful blue eyes, and pink-purple-ish skin like Harry had seen in the pictures of a newborn at school. The baby blinked, his mouth half open. It was the most wonderful sight Harry had ever seen. This baby was his. Harry almost couldn't believe his luck.
Well, he would need a name. He didn't know a lot of names, but when Mrs. Next Door was babysitting him he got to watch TV, and his baby boy reminded him of a character named Daniel. He was very nice and brave, just like his Daniel would be.
"Danie-el." He tried out. Daniel blinked, and giggled. Harry felt warm and happy. He smiled back lovingly. This was his baby.
What would Auntie do with Dudley again? Right! Harry began to wig his baby back and forth in his arms, humming a song he heard coming from Auntie's room while he was cleaning the upstairs.
Daniel would need food. He had seen Dudley get only milk and pudding when he was younger, maybe Daniel needed those things too. Auntie would help Daniel, right? Harry was the freak, not Daniel, Daniel could never be a freak because freaks were bad people and Daniel was the nicest thing in the entire world. Or would be, anyway. If Harry could just show Auntie how wonderful Danny was, she'd adore him.
Danny had fallen asleep in his arms when the door of his cupboard was pulled open harshly. "What are you waiting for freak, you are supposed to be..." His Auntie's voice trailed off upon seeing the baby boy in Harry's arms, going pale. Harry looked down with guilt.
"I'm sorr-ee Auntie, I know freaks like me cleen gardens at ate-o-clock. I will stop las-laze- lazing around and start helping my charreetibul Auntie and Uncle who hafe struhggled with my freakishness, but hafe nevar given up on me because they are nice and onest peeple." He recited dutifully, struggling a bit with the big words and pronunciation, as he had recently lost several milk teeth. Then his eyes brightened as he looked up, grinning with pride and love and completely oblivious to the horror on his Auntie's face. "Look hoo I found! Dis is Daniel, and hees my son!"
He frowned as he finally saw the look on his Auntie's face. "What's wrong? I promese he's not a freak, Auntie! He's gonna be de nicest person in the whole world when he grohs up!" Harry announced with pride, but not too loud, careful not to wake Danny up. He softly moved Danny from one side to another like he had seen Auntie do with Dudley. He was already beginning to look more normal, less purple. Harry could tell Danny was going to be a beautiful baby boy.
His Auntie was speechless! She must be so happy. "Vernon!" She barked suddenly. His uncle came barging in loudly, waking Danny up who began to cry. Harry looked hurt at his Uncle, but that was wrong of him, his uncle didn't know Danny was there of course, otherwise he would have been quieter. Harry began rocking his baby boy once again, shushing him softly. Danny calmed down staring into his daddy's bright green eyes full of love.
Because of this Harry completely missed his Uncle's rapidly reddening face and his Auntie's whispers. He also missed her almost pulling his Uncle to the drawing room to have a whisper-shouted argument about what to do.
He did eventually notice, however, that they had left and understood it completely. They needed time to process the absolute happiness they were no doubt feeling alongside his. Harry did however regret not asking for food for Danny. He didn't want to look in the fridge for suitable food, because stealing was wrong and Harry was not going to set an example like that for his son. His son, Danny. He was so happy calling him that.
He went into his cupboard, closing the door behind him and opening the secret panel he stored extra food behind. Danny would never know where it came from so he wouldn't be brought up with bad examples. He felt guilty about stealing food, but it was necessary to survive the days he got locked in here without food. It wasn't Harry's Auntie's and Uncle's fault, he reasoned. They just don't know when I'm hungry or not.
There was a can of tomato soup, and Harry supposed it was better than nothing, but was nervous that Danny wouldn't like it. He cleaned the plastic spoon that came with it vigorously with his other shirt, which was still reasonably clean, and laid Danny down on his bed reluctantly to be able to open the can. Danny whimpered at the loss of contact, but giggled when Harry quickly picked him up, sat down himself and propped Danny up on his lap.
The can that he had opened with difficulty was full with red sauce, which Harry supposed was tomato soup. He had never seen tomato soup before, because it wasn't one of his Uncle's favorites. He took the spoon and brought a spoonful soup to his baby's lips, awkwardly holding the spoon so that it wouldn't spill.
"Here's the aare-plain." He repeated Ms. Number Five's words, having been at her house once while her toddler niece was visiting. He wasn't sure if it worked with babies too, but the toddler had immediately opened her mouth in a wide 'aaah' and he figured it was worth a try.
Danny didn't protest the food, and it was easy to feed him a few spoonfuls before he yawned sleepily. Harry smiled as his heart warmed again. He carefully wrapped Danny up in the thin shirt-turned-blanket and pressed his baby boy against him as he laid down. He placed a sloppy kiss on Danny's forehead, which wasn't purple anymore, and drifted off. He had never been happier.
He had been wrong. So terribly, horribly wrong.
"No! Pleese, no, don't! He's not a freak, he's amasing, please don't take him! DON'T!"
His Auntie didn't adore Danny.
His Uncle wasn't proud of his baby.
"Get AWAY from him! Don't touch him! He's my baby!"
They had taken Harry's son away from him. They had locked him away.
"No, Auntie, Uncle, please, don't hurt him! He's been good! He's normal, like Dudlee!"
They had locked Harry upstairs and silenced him when the workers came. They told lies. Sold Danny. Sold HIS baby.
Harry sat in the corner of the room, sobbing silently. The workers were long gone, his screams for his son lost in the gag, the pain of the belt marks on his back nothing compared with the pain in his chest. The room was tiny, closing in on him, his breath came out in short quick gasps. Harry could feel his heart racing, he didn't have enough air, he had to get out, had to find Danny, had to- had-
As he passed out, his breathing evened out a bit.
That's it. I'm not going to continue, but feel free to borrow the idea.