There it was again, that distinct queasy feeling he'd been having for about a week. Harry grimaced as he finally made his way to the hospital wing. He perched on one of the cots while Madame Pomfery smeared a salve on a first year student's hand and then wrapped it in gauze. She looked over at him as the first year left and sighed. "Well, Mr. Potter," she said, "What have you done to yourself this time?"

"Nothing serious," he assured her. "I think it's just a stomach virus."

Madame Pomfery looked shocked for a brief moment, then drew her wand and pointed it at Harry's abdomen. She muttered something under her breath and a green glow surrounded his stomach. Her eyes widened.

Noticing her reaction, Harry frowned. "Is it that bad? It just seems like a mild flu to me."

"It's not bad, really," she responded. "It's simply surprising and very rare. Mr. Potter, you are pregnant."

Harry's mouth opened, then snapped shut. He gave Madame Pomfery a calculating look. "Did Ron put you up to this? I'm not addled; I know men can't get pregnant."

"True, most men can't," she answered, "but in very rare instances, when two very powerful wizards engage, er, carnally it has been known to happen. I think the last documented case was in the 1600's. If memory serves, he was actually a mediwizard and kept detailed records. If you would like, I can see if I can find his journals for you."

"I would appreciate that." Harry hopped off the cot and headed for the door.

"Mr. Potter, who is the father?"

"I can't tell you that, Madame Pomfery. I'm sorry, but I can't."

Harry managed to keep himself composed as he made his way to the Head Boy's dormitory. He collapsed on his bed, sobbing. He hadn't been there long when there was a knock on the door. He cleared his throat and called out, "Who is it?"

"It's us, mate," he heard Ron call. "We're heading down to breakfast, you coming?"

"I don't think so," he called back. "I'm not feeling well, I think I'll skive off today."

"Okay. Feel better."

"I'll bring you my notes from our classes," Hermione called.

"Thanks."

Harry stayed in bed all day, curled around himself. Somewhere around lunchtime, Dobby popped into his room. "Dobby heard that Harry Potter was sick, sir. Dobby has brought him chicken soup and tea. Dobby hopes that Harry Potter will feel better!"

"Thank you, Dobby," Harry murmured, but didn't rise.

"Won't Harry Potter eat, please? Dobby has made it himself."

Harry sighed and sat up. He took the proffered tray from the elf and set it on the bed. Taking a spoonful of soup, he raised it to his mouth, and slowly ate while Dobby watched, shifting from one foot to the other. "That was very thoughtful, Dobby," Harry said mechanically. "And it was very good. Thank you."

"Dobby is glad that Harry Potter liked his soup! Dobby hopes that Harry Potter will be feeling better tomorrow." Dobby took the tray from Harry and disappeared.

Harry laid back down, pulling a pillow down to clench tightly into his chest. Oh, if only you were here, he thought. You always wanted a real family, and I took that away from you. Please make it out alive. I want you to know your child. Simply thinking of his beloved, brought a fresh onslaught of tears and Harry wept himself to sleep.

Draco was sitting beside a river, gazing down upon a blonde-haired baby, cooing at it, and waggling a stuffed rabbit in front of it. He was telling it the story of Babbity Rabbity. Harry smiled to himself and leaned against Draco's shoulder. It was a beautiful day. Clouds drifted lazily in the azure sky and a family of ducks swam along the river's edge. Harry lifted his baby – their baby – up to gaze upon the world. Suddenly, the sky darkened and a black shape materialized before them. Voldemort had found them. How had he known? Did he have a trace on Draco?

"Ah, the happy family," Voldemort sneered as Harry clutched the baby close to his chest, shielding it with his arms as much as possible. Draco's wand was out and pointing at the demon before them. "I thought better of you, Draco. Breeding with a half-blood. What else have you kept from me? Legilimens!" Draco fought the intrusion into his mind, but his worry for his family had him distracted and Voldemort found that one item that sealed his fate. "A spy? I must commend you, Draco; I never even suspected until now." Voldemort sighed. "They come, they go. It's time to take out the trash. Avada Kedavra!"

"No!" Harry screamed as he watched Draco melt to the ground.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," Voldemort kept saying over and over. "Harry, Harry...

"Harry, Harry, wake up. Harry!" Hermione's voice broke through the dream-fog at last, pulling him from the last of his nightmare.

Harry scowled at the old wizard who usually guarded his chamber. "What was I supposed to do? You were screaming like the devil was in here when she came up. Wouldn't even try for the password. You know, she actually threatened to shred my portrait if I didn't let her in."

Harry snorted, mildly amused. "She probably would have done it, too."

"No, not probably," Hermione said, "I would have. You, however, will tell me what's going on this very instant."

"Or, what? You'll shred my portrait," Harry scoffed, sitting up.

"Harry, were you in Voldemort's head again? We've warned you about letting him in."

"Herm, I have been diligent with my Occlumency. It was just a regular run-of-the-mill nightmare."

"Well, I'm still not leaving, though you don't look sick at all," she huffed as she perched gracefully on the edge of his bed. "I copied my notes for you." She dug in her bag and pulled out reams of parchment and laid them on the bed.

Ron's voice sifted through the door. "Harry, mate, where's the geezer?"

The guardian of the portrait moved out of the frame he had been occupying, and moments later, they heard him, "Well, hello again! And how are you on this gorgeous – "

"Stuff it chatterbox, if you don't let me in within three seconds.."

"Portrait shredded, yes, yes," they heard as the portrait swung open.

"Harry, what's going on?" Ron asked. "I heard you screaming downstairs."

"Just a nightmare, Ron," Harry assured his friend.

"Sure," Ron rolled his eyes. "What's really going on. You're not sick, and you're in deep with McGonagall for not getting a pass from Pomfery."

Harry sighed. He should have known better than to keep anything from his friends. "I'm pregnant," he muttered.

"Yeah, right. Tell me another one," Ron snorted. "How dense do you think I am?"

"No, Ron, it is possible," Hermione said. "I think I ran across a reference to a wizard who bore three children by his male lover back in the mid 1400's. But they were both really powerful wizards."

"Well, I guess he left you a souvenir to keep you busy while he's spying, huh?" Ron smiled. "I'll say, it might be a cute baby."

Hermione's eyes glazed over and she smiled a little. The silence was broken a few minutes later by Ron. "Wait a minute! How are you going to give birth?!"

Harry visibly paled.

A few weeks went by and Harry managed to make it to all his morning lessons with the help of a potion Madame Pomfery gave him for his morning sickness. He managed to stay fairly positive and he had no more nightmares. He was, however, woken at about two in the morning one night to find someone shaking him. He opened his eyes to see a teary-eyed Hermione sitting on the edge of his bed. He blinked a few times and shoved himself into a sitting position, reaching for his glasses. "What's wrong, 'Mione?" he asked.

"Harry, I need someone to talk to," she cried.

"Why me, and not Ron?"

"Because it's about him."

Harry sighed. Not again. "You know he can be dense and irritable sometimes, Hermione. Whatever it is, he'll realize his mistake soon and you'll be back to normal." Instead of being comforted, Hermione burst out into fresh tears. "Now, I've said something wrong. Whatever it was, I'm sorry."

"It's just... It was m-m-my mistake," Hermione managed between sobs.

"Well, wait a few days for him to cool off and then apologize. He'll come 'round."

"Harry it's much more serious than any problem we've had before."

Harry sighed and tried not to grit his teeth. "Hermione, I can't help you if you don't tell me what happened."

Hermione flung herself into Harry's chest and wept harder. "I realized I brewed my birth control potion wrong, and I'm pregnant. I-I didn't know how to tell Ron; so I thought I could ease into it. I started talking about how excited I was about your baby, how we would its aunt and uncle, and he seemed excited too. So, I asked him if he thought we were too young to have our own children and he said yes, especially with a war on and he wanted to wait until we could get m-m-married. Oh, Harry, how am I supposed to tell him now?"

"I think you're underestimating him, Hermione. I'm sure he doesn't want children right now because he feels he can't provide for them and he's frightened for their safety because of the war. Just sit him down and tell him."

"Thanks, mate," Ron's voice came from the doorway to the sitting room. "You left the portrait open, 'Mione."

Hermione sat up straight. "Ron, I-"

"Don't worry, love," Ron comforted, sitting beside her. "Harry's mostly right. I'm here for you, whatever you need." Ron noticed Harry staring at the ceiling. "I'm here for both of you. Harry I know you wish he could be here with you, but I'll do what I can, within reason."

"Thanks, mate," Harry grunted, even more uncomfortable.

Hermione snagged both young men into a fierce embrace, sobbing, "I love you both so much!"

Ron patted her back, "We'll all make it through this."

Once Ron had deposited Hermione in her Prefect's dorm and made sure she was sleeping, he slipped out to the owlery and sent off a letter.

Draco stood by his window, waiting for an owl with the latest news from the castle. He needed to know Harry was still alright, and Weasley was late with this month's update. Had his owl been intercepted? Did they know he was spying for the Order? Sweet Merlin, please don't let them know about Harry! Just when Draco was starting to think it was too late for an update tonight, he saw a tiny owl zip through the window and onto his bed. He all but dove for the owl, hastily untying the parchment from it's leg.

M,

You need to know. One dear to you is pregnant. Should have told you sooner. Now G is in same state. Know how I would feel if I were you. Sorry for the delay. Forgive me. Will keep you posted.

W.

Draco tried to decipher the message. Weasley phrased this one oddly. He got that Hermione was pregnant, but the letter made it sound as if someone else was too, and that he, Draco, was the father, which was, of course, impossible. The only person he had ever been that close with was Harry. Oh, no. No, no, no, no. No. Ron had to be pulling his leg. That wasn't physically possible. Was it? He would have to do some discreet research tomorrow. But in the meantime, he scrawled a hasty reply under the original message.

W,

Tell someone of my love. Will visit soon if possible. Congrats on your news. Thanks.

M.

He tied his reply to the owl's leg and went to bed.

Draco's reply was sitting on Ron's bedside table when he woke in the morning. He read it and threw it in the fire. At breakfast, he ate slowly, trying to figure out how to relay the latest message. Serpent? No, too obvious. Goldilocks? Too demeaning. "My penpal says congratulations to us, Hermione," he finally decided. "He remains constant to his love, even though they're far apart. Romantic, don't you think?"

"Yes," Harry and Hermione agreed.

"Very romantic," Harry said mechanically. He worried his lower lip between his teeth. Part of him wondered if Ron had delivered their news. Harry had never confirmed that Draco was the father, but Ron must know. He would have told him wouldn't he? Or would he have kept silent, as the other part of Harry hoped, so as not to endanger Draco?

The day went about as usual, though Harry was distracted through most of his classes. His pregnancy, however, was draining his energy levels and upon completing his homework, he fell asleep at his desk.

Draco woke felling nervous. For a moment he couldn't remember why, but then the memory of Ron's message the previous night clicked into place. It had to be one of Weasley's pranks, right? Even so, the possibility made him nervous and he made his way to the library. What books should he look in? He started in the history section, scanning the titles. Nothing seemed to pop out at him. Next he moved to the medical books, and soon found a copy of Medical Anomalies of the Wizarding World. His fears were confirmed when he discovered a listing for "pregnancy, male" in the index. He quickly flipped to the noted page and read:

Of all medical anomalies, only survival of the Avada Kedavra curse is more rare than wizard pregnancy. There have been three documented cases in 564, 1473 (the same wizard also bore twins in 1481), and in 1635. Roderick Gravitas (1610-1689) was a mediwizard at the time of his pregnancy and it is from him that we know so much about this phenomenon. Wizard pregnancy seems only possible with the coupling of two extremely powerful wizards. The pregnant wizard's body will form a womb to sustain the growing child. Unlike witch pregnancies, wizard pregnancies seem to last 11-12 months. The first noticeable sign is persistent nausea as the womb forms. The nausea should abate within three months of fertilization. The fetus will continue to develop normally until "birth." Whereas it is possible for a Wizard to give birth naturally, is not recommended. It is recommended by Gravitas that the child be removed from the womb via the Muggle method of cesarean section.

Oh, Merlin, it was true. He would have to go see Harry, could he resign as spy? It would be dangerous, but they could create a safe house and have either Weasley or Granger as their secret keeper. He would have to end the Unbreakable Vow Harry insisted on taking so that he could speak his name again. He could do that tonight. It shouldn't be too difficult to sneak into the castle.

Harry was awoken by a knock on the door to his quarters. Groggily, he got out of bed, threw on his robe, and opened the portrait. There was no one outside. Perhaps it was his imagination. Oh well, he was up; so he might as well shower. He draped his robe over the back of his desk chair and made his way to the bathroom. He stood under the flow of warm water, caressing his abdomen. "Oh, Love, I miss you so much," he sighed.

"I miss you too," Harry heard and he ripped open the shower curtain to see his lover standing in the doorway.

"How did you get in here?" Harry asked, surprised.

Draco shrugged. "My invisibility cloak."

Harry was in such a rush to hold Draco again that he slipped on the wet tile. Suddenly, Draco's arms were around him and he was staring into silver-blue eyes. "Be careful, love," Draco cooed.

When Harry again was standing on his own feet, he asked, "What are you doing here? Do you know how dangerous this is?"

"I've decided to cease being a spy," Draco replied. "Weasley told me about your predicament, and I'll stand by my mistake."

Harry drew a deep breath, steeling himself for the necessary. "Don't worry, love. It was someone else's mistake."

Draco opened his mouth as if to say something, then pinched his lips together, thinking better of it. He drew a shaky breath, then stalked into the main room to grab his invisibility cloak. "You won't be hearing from me when the war is over." Draco didn't face Harry. "I hope he loves you as much I do."

Harry watched as the father of his child walked out of their life.