What was meant to be 800 words that grew a life of it's own, I hope you enjoy. Written for the 'Hormonally challenged' challenge (2 August - 3 September) on Unstoppered desire. Go look up the archive.It's a splendid little snarry group on Yahoo.
It wasn't how he'd wanted it to happen. They'd never spoken of children before. He'd only brought it up once, right near the beginning, two months into their relationship.
He'd been out late with his friends, a muggle club for Hermione's birthday, and, somewhere in his drunken mind, decided to head for Hogwarts instead of home. Severus had raised an eyebrow at his grinning young lover but taken him inside none the less. Lying half naked in his bed, it had happened.
"Why are you up so late?" It had come out more as a slur than he'd wanted. Severus was unbuttoning his cuffs. Harry barely noticed he was still in the robes he wore for teaching. Severus didn't turn and took his time, his smooth deep voice rousing Harry as his eyelids had started to droop.
"I don't sleep much." A casual flick of his hand and the pills on the side table landed in his waiting palm. Harry had seen them there before. It made sense that Severus used sleeping pills. Harry had often woke to find the bed empty and him down in his lab, sometimes two, three in the morning. Once again, silence passed over them.
"It'll be good when we have kids." Harry chuckled, his brain speaking for itself, closing his eyes. He could feel the change in atmosphere right away. They opened again and watched Severus peering down at him over his nose, an indescribable look upon his face. If his muscles didn't feel limp and his head wasn't spinning, it would have made Harry back off. It was the look he reserved for only his most hated students. Even so, Harry had only received it twice. Once after the penisive incident and again when he'd been caught fondling Ginny Weasley in seventh year after dinner.
He didn't like that look.
He'd never brought up the subject again.
But now, he had no choice...
And so, after an entire month of worrying and avoiding him, he'd cautiously approached the older man about it on a late Monday evening.
He hadn't reacted the way Harry expected.
After fumbling and stuttering over his words, finally shouting out "I'm pregnant!", the last word echoing throughout the small dungeon quarters, Severus had looked up from his book, stood and walked over to him.
His lips pressed to Harry's head and his hand cupped the swelling of his middle. The shock was all that kept the shaking wizard from bursting into fits of sobs. He had avoided that all but twice so far and hoped to keep it that way . He knew from the books and pure imagery that he was going to lose enough of his masculinity over the next few months without throwing it away.
He only learned later that Severus had already known.
It had been reluctantly that he left his little flat in exchange for moving in with Severus.
He stood in the dungeon corridor on the Saturday morning as his personal belongings were brought into Severus' new rooms. Mcgonagall, now Headmistress, when hearing of the soon-coming arrival and the plan for them to join Severus at Hogwarts, had insisted on new and bigger quarters. Severus obviously hadn't objected to this and Harry was sure if he'd asked to be able to remain in his own home for at least the time being, Severus wouldn't have objected to that either.
But he didn't see the point. A hand strayed to his stomach, rubbing it lightly on the underside. It had started moving a few weeks previously. He would have to for the baby's sake eventually. He felt like after the Dursleys and Voldemort, even though it had been nearly four years on his own... he felt like he was only starting to live and experience.
And though he was happy about this baby (that's how he was supposed to feel, wasn't it?) and glad that his initial fears (which seemed almost a certainty at one point) were unfounded...
He couldn't help wish (it rolled over as he watched his trunk levitated at first then come tumbling down the stairs) it had come at another time.
"Please Severus..." Severus gave a long suffering sigh. He'd been extremely patient with his younger partner, even more so in the past months.
It had been long since he'd hated Harry. He hadn't fallen head-over-heels for him in a moment's notice or any time during Harry's school. No, that would be ridiculous.
"You have to go Harry, they've arranged it just for you." Harry rolled his eyes.
"Why do I find it hard to believe that? Anyone else I could understand, but the Malfoys?"
It had happened gradually over time, watching him mature and slowly become powerful enough to eventually defeat Voldemort. Enough so, that he hadn't had a second thought of inviting him to dinner when he'd seen him in Diagon alley a few months later, though he'd never imagined it would get this far. Severus sighed again.
"Well then, if not for you, for the baby. It is part-Slytherin." Harry folded his arms, resting them on his belly. Severus approached him and touched his cheek.
Harry would probably laugh in his face if he heard (though these days, Severus would do just about anything to see him smile again), Severus considered Harry a delicate flower. With the right nurturing and care, he could turn into something truly beautiful, too tight a grip and he would pull away. He knew the war had left damage (with the losses on both sides, how could it not?), more so to Harry, and carefully avoided the subject for fear of worsening it. Sure, he was strict with him at times, but he had to be. But he couldn't bring himself to do it in the past few months.
"Just a little while love, it'll be over before you know it..." Harry still looked unsure, looking down at the floor again. Severus gently gestured for him to look up again. He did so with sad green eyes. Severus leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on his lips.
"I am never doing anything like that again. Ever." Severus kissed his neck and Harry shivered. Arms wrapped round him, caressing his body.
"It couldn't have been that bad." Severus said through kisses planted on his shoulder. Harry's eyes closed and he leant back into the strong hard body, such a contrast to his, which had softened as it changed with pregnancy. He let off a soft moan as the hands brushed against his sensitive chest.
He'd blossomed in pregnancy and Severus had never been so amused or fascinated with something as much as he was with the changes Harry was going through. He'd never found the young Hermaphrodite as appealing as he did now (he ignored the dark rings under his eyes and, though not obvious with his girth, the way his bones stuck out once more), even if Harry didn't seem to agree.
"I didn't know half the people. And they kept on touching me." He sounded slightly repulsed. Severus chuckled. His hands move down
"That's what they do to pregnant people, love. You're just been avoiding it when you've been curled up in the rooms for the past few months." Severus smiled, a rare yet not as horrible as it first would sound, sight. "Besides, who could resist touching your beautiful belly?"
Severus went on kissing his neck and face, but Harry froze. His eyes opened and he looked down. He was sitting with his knees under him, his legs nearly obscured by his formerly flat stomach. It stuck out in front of him, reminding Harry distinctly of a picture a tumour he'd seen once.
This wasn't him. The round globular mass wasn't part of him, it didn't feel like it was him or like it was beautiful. Red lines had started to form on the tight stretched skin (he couldn't be bothered and didn't really trust with the creams the healer gave) and were hidden slightly by Severus' hands, now still on top of the heavy stomach, fingers spread, one touching his outwards bellybutton. It chose that moment to show it was awake and Harry barely resisted cringing as the flesh visibly moved with the kick.
"Harry?"
He hadn't even realized Severus was speaking to him. Without a word, he pushed the hands off. He didn't see Severus' confusion as he got off the bed, picked up a robe, left the room. He didn't hear the calling for him as he left the Quarters, up the stairs, outside the doors, running. Not seeing where he was going, determined to get away, as far away as he could. He finally stopped, now surrounded by trees and in nearly full darkness. Leaning against a tree, he rested his tree, ignoring the hot sticky wetness pouring down his cheeks.
The thing was still there. He wasn't away yet.
He didn't scream, but watched it silently, letting the tears fall...
"Forbidden Forest... Dehydrated... Dangerous..."
Harry, lying in the hospital wing bed, ignored it all. He hadn't said a word since they'd found him. Why should he? He had nothing to say anyway. He stared straight ahead of him. A first year had burns over his arms. He wondered what had happened to him briefly before the curtains were wrenched closed and a worried voice started half-scolding/half-mothering him. He ignored Hermione and she fell silent as she sat next to him.
She tried to take his hand. He wrenched it back. She watched him sadly, but he didn't notice.
"Oh Harry..."
Two months on, he found himself in a similar situation. But everyone seemed so much happier, relieved. He wondered if he should be relieved and happy as well. He tried. But he couldn't bring himself to do it.
He looked down at the little bundle in his arms. Pink. Wrinkled. Severus' nose. For the first time in six months, he smiled and reached out, touching a little cheek. The little face screwed up and it let out a horrible shriek. The smile vanished. He pulled his finger back, but it didn't stop.
He watched it for a few moments as it continued to cry, not knowing what to do. Severus was away teaching classes. It was soon wrenched out of his arms.
"For Merlin's sake Harry, it's clear she's hungry... Don't just sit there."
That was his breaking point. He didn't try touch her again. No more than he had to. And it was odd, no one noticed. He learned to change her when she cried, or rock her to sleep. Or, the times he dreaded, feed her. Having her leeching onto him, milking him like he was some sort of cow. He hated it. But he didn't coddle her, or sing to her, or playwith her, which only succeeded in making him feel worse.
It lasted little over three months. He'd learnt to plaster a fake smile over his face, a smile that said 'I'm'-happy-to-be-holding-my-child' and not 'I-cant-do-this,-take-her.-Please,-just-take-her-'. Eventually, he couldn't anymore.
And now he finds himself here. He supposes it's a bit clichéd, but he doesn't care. It's the only place he can away with no suspicion from Severus. He was changing her and neglected to notice he didn't take his broom with him. Carefully, he climbs to the highest bleacher, the staff one. He's watched it before and thought, but not seriously until a week ago.
And now, he stands on top, shivering in the cool November air and looking over the dark empty Quidditch pitch.
He knows he must do it. Or Severus will come and there will be no chance. His eyes close and a image runs through it, an image of her.
He will Do it.
Crying in his arms; Severus tickling her and smiling, such a light in his eyes; the round mass in front of him, not going away; running.
He's going to do it
He shakes his head, willing it all away. It won't go. He grips his hands in his hair and he screams, shaking his head.
DO IT!
His foot slips.
And he's falling.
Remembering
Falling.
Longing.
Falling.
Needing to get away.
Falling.
A tear slips down his cheek.
Falling.
Falling.
Gone.
2:11 am
03-09-2007
T.m Spirit