Harry picked himself up off the floor and brushed copious amounts of soot off his robes.
He hated Flooing, and he especially hated Flooing to Grimmauld Place, where the floor always seemed extra hard.
He hoped there weren't too many people there. At that time of day, he figured only Remus would be, but it was hard to know for sure. Sometimes meetings were scheduled at odd hours. And some Order members seemed to come and go without any good reason at all.
He wasn't in the mood to answer questions about why he was home at just past noon, when he should have been at work.
They would probably be outwardly sympathetic, but when they thought he wasn't looking they'd smile knowingly. He knew what they'd be thinking. They'd be thinking how they told him so. Some of them would probably be calculating how much they'd just made in that stupid wager Dung had started.
Twenty minutes earlier, when he had stormed out of his boss' office, where he'd finally told the bloody idiot off good and proper, the prospect of telling everyone that he'd quit his job had not bothered him at all. But now he just wanted to get to his room and hide in shame.
Two weeks on the job. It had to be some kind of record for flakiness.
Of course, he should have listened when his friends told him not to take the job in the first place, but he just had to be stubborn, didn't he?
Harry opened the door a crack and looked out cautiously. The hallway was empty, so he crept out, shut the door quietly, and started toward the stairs, thinking he might get to his room unseen, and put off the unpleasant explanations until at least dinner time.
"Well, of course it's best to have children within the confines of a stable relationship. I'm not arguing with that."
Harry froze. Remus' voice was so close, Remus should have been within arm's reach, even though Harry was standing in the middle of an empty hallway. It took him a few moments to realize that he was standing in the part of the hallway where a section of the wall was in the process of being replaced. On the other side was the tea room, and the only thing separating its occupants from Harry was a thin partition.
"What I'm saying is," Remus continued, "if such a relationship is not possible, there is no reason to sacrifice having children, as well. A one-parent home can be just as stable, under the right circumstances."
"Are you really thinking of going through with it?"
Harry recognized Bill's voice, and wondered when Bill had got back from his latest mission to Egypt.
His rational mind told him he should go. His feet, however, stayed exactly where they were.
"I don't know. Adopting on my own is impossible, of course, thanks to the latest legislation. And I doubt I'll ever have the money necessary to hire a surrogate. I have considered finding someone else who wants to have a child, and is having similar difficulty."
"And what -- share the child?"
"I suppose so. It seems like the best way to get through the red tape."
"But you couldn't do that with just anyone. Think how much trust you would be placing in that person."
"Of course. I have thought of that. Which is why I doubt anything will come of this."
"I didn't say you should give up."
"I know you didn't, Bill. I'm just saying I know the odds are against it ever happening. My best bet was Sirius, and he's gone."
"You were going to have a child with him?"
"He said if he was ever cleared, he would adopt for me. Or hire a surrogate. Use his own sperm to avoid any issues over my condition."
Bill gave a low whistle. "Now that's one hell of a friend."
Harry could almost see Remus' wistful smile. "Yes. He was."
"Now, Molly, where did you say you saw it?"
Harry whirled around at the sound of the new voice, then, not waiting for the two women to spot him, opened the first door he saw and stepped inside the empty bedroom it revealed.
As it happened, the bedroom was exactly one floor below his own. Harry easily reached the edge of his windowsill by standing on tip-toe on the balcony railing. With a little effort, he pulled himself up and tumbled into the room.
"H-Harry?"
Harry looked up in horror, immediately spotting Neville, who was sitting on the edge of the bed with his mouth hanging open, staring at Harry.
"I... uh..." Harry picked himself up, blushing furiously. Finally, he managed a shrug. "Didn't want to run into Mrs Weasley."
"Oh." Neville nodded knowingly. "Did she want you to help polish the floors, too?"
"Er... yes, that's it," Harry lied, laughing a little. "What a way to spend a perfectly good Tuesday afternoon, eh?"
Neville cocked his head to one side. "Why aren't you at work?"
"I..." Harry began slowly. Well, it's not like he wouldn't have to tell sooner or later. "I quit, actually."
"Oh. Good for you."
"Good?" Harry repeated confusedly.
"It was a horrible job. They just wanted you for the publicity. You did right to quit."
Harry managed a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, Neville. Was there something you wanted, by the way?"
"No," Neville said cheerfully. "Just hiding from Mrs Weasley. She'd never think to look for me here." He pulled a foil wrapped packet out of a tin lying next to him on the bed, and held it out to Harry. "Care for a chocolate frog?"
That night, Harry lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking.
The house was quiet except for its usual sounds; creaking, rumbling old pipes, and the snores of the sleeping portraits.
Maybe it was the fact that the only other person in the house was Remus, or maybe it was the conversation Harry had overheard, but Harry found himself unable to sleep, and all his thoughts returning to the same idea.
Harry knew so little about his parents and godfather, despite the many hours he had spent talking about them with Remus and others who had known them, that any new tidbit seemed extremely important.
He had never considered the possibility that Remus or Sirius would want families of their own.
He realized now that it had been extremely silly of him, not to mention insensitive and naive. Remus was just a person like anyone, and the desire for a family was one of the strongest a human being could have. Harry knew that quite well himself. He hadn't thought about having children yet, of course, but there had been countless times when he'd wished with all his heart that he wasn't an orphan, and had anyone to call his own. He didn't even have the Dursleys anymore. Sometimes it would really hit him how alone in the world he was.
Still, even though he knew all these things, and understood the feelings behind them, he still had a tough time picturing either man knee-deep in kids.
He realized how just how little he knew about either of them, and it was not a nice realization at all.
The fact that Sirius would have gone so far to help Remus have a baby obviously spoke volumes about his personality as well as the depth of their friendship, and yet Harry had been completely unaware of it.
He knew Remus fancied men, because Remus had told him so after Harry accidentally made a confession of his own.
Could Remus and Sirius have been lovers? It hadn't even occurred to Harry to ask that question, and now he wasn't sure he would dare. But if they had been, then it pained Harry to remember how brave and strong Remus had been when Harry had needed him during those times through the years when Sirius' death had especially hurt.
He wondered if Remus would ever find someone else who would do for him what Sirius had offered. Bill had been right to comment on the kind of friend that would take.
Sighing, Harry turned onto his side, determined to get some sleep. Now that he was no longer gainfully employed, he was sure to be assigned any number of tasks around Grimmauld Place starting bright and early the next morning.
It was no use.
Something was bothering him, and it didn't look like it was going to leave him be until he faced it.
He pulled himself up and leaned against the headboard, folding his arms across his chest.
He knew what Sirius had been going to do.
And, now that he thought about it more, he knew what his father would have done, as well, had he been around, because his father had been that kind of friend to Remus too.
Who else was there in Remus' life who cared that much about him?
Certainly not Kingsley or Dung, both of whom cared more about themselves, or Molly and Arthur Weasley, who had very traditional views about proper family structure, or any of the Weasley children, who were busy with careers or growing families and weren't too closely involved with Order business any longer. Dumbledore was gone and couldn't use his influence to help anyone anymore, and McGonagall had nowhere near the same connections. Snape made it clear that the only reason he was still supplying Remus with the Wolfsbane potion was a promise he'd made to Dumbledore as the old man lay dying. Tonks was a nice enough girl but good luck getting her to come down from the clouds long enough to notice someone else's problems. Even Hermione, who certainly would have wanted to help Remus in any way she could, was in no position to do so now that she had started her own family with Ron.
It looked like Remus had been right when he said he doubted his chances of ever becoming a father. With the friends he had left, the odds didn't look good.
Harry squirmed uncomfortably.
Remus deserved to have a child, if that was what he wanted so desperately. The war had stolen so much from so many people, but Remus had been through the first war, too, and had suffered losses then, as well. He deserved to go on with his life, and find happiness.
It was all the Ministry's fault! Why did they have to go and make even more stupid laws against werewolves? Wasn't Remus' Order of Merlin, First Class, worth anything?
But it did no good to blame the Ministry. It was an obstacle to overcome, just as Remus had often said to him over the years. Laws couldn't be changed overnight. One had to work around them.
Harry stared out the window at the few stars that shone brightly enough to still be visible in the pre-dawn sky.
Finally, he sighed in resignation, and at last, he was able to pull up the covers, curl up on his side, and shut his eyes.
Because just as he knew what Sirius would have done had he not died four years earlier, and what James would have done had he not died fourteen years before that, he also knew what Harry Potter, who was the only one in any position to help Remus, was going to do.
"Absolutely not."
Harry huffed in frustration. It had all seemed very simple that morning, when he had finally made peace with himself after a long night of tossing and turning sleeplessly in his bed. The last thing he had expected was for Remus to flatly refuse to consider his offer.
"Did Bill put you up to this?" Remus continued. "I don't know where else you could have got this."
"I haven't even seen Bill in weeks!" Harry said. Technically, it was the truth. He hadn't seen Bill, since Bill had left Grimmauld Place by the time Harry had crawled out of bed late that morning. "Look, I overheard you talking with him. It's just like I said. I've been thinking about it, and I would be thrilled to help you become a father. It's simple really, I can't imagine why you're so against it!"
"Think a little harder, then," Remus said. "This is not one of your more brilliant ideas."
"Well I think it is! You want to be a father, and I want to help you. What's wrong with that?"
"What's wrong with it is you have no idea what you're saying! Do you even realize what the headlines would be if anyone even thought you were involved in something like this?"
Harry raised an eyebrow. "You mean like the headline in today's paper, which claims I assaulted my boss with two hundred autographed wizard photographs?"
Remus continued to frown at him, shaking his head. "This is serious, Harry. They would twist things in ways you can't imagine. Do you want to see a front page story claiming you've taken a werewolf for a lover? I assure you that's exactly what would happen."
"So let it happen," Harry said carelessly. "They can't stop me from living my life the way I want by threatening to make up more lies about me. They do that anyway!
"What about the child? Do you think they'll just leave it alone?"
"Since I won't be raising it, I think they will, eventually. It won't hurt a baby to have headlines in trashy newspapers devoted to it, and it will all blow over by the time the kid is old enough to read."
"And if it won't blow over?"
Harry looked him right in the eyes. "Remus. This child is going to have a werewolf for a father. I think you must have thought of this a hundred times before, so you must have come to the same conclusion. This kid is going to experience prejudice sooner or later, or at least come up against prejudice directed against you. You can't prevent that, and I can't either. It's going to happen, and he or she will just have to learn to deal with it. Since you're still considering having one, then you have made peace with this fact, and still think it's all right to bring the kid into the world in spite of it."
Remus didn't say anything. He was staring out the window, frowning.
"I'm not making light of the problems," Harry continued, feeling that Remus' resolve was weakening. "I'm just saying I want to help you have a baby, and I know what I'm getting into and I'm still willing to go through with it. You don't have to tell me about the media. They've been after me since they day I started Hogwarts. They don't scare me. My real friends will still be by my side when this is over, and that's all I care about, not the opinion of strangers."
There was a long silence, throughout which Remus continued staring out the window as if hypnotized.
"What about your love life?" Remus finally said. "What if you meet someone, later on, who has a problem with you having a child with me?"
Harry snorted in disgust. "Do you think I would get involved with someone who had a problem with you? Just what do you think I am? Besides, we seem to have the same problem. You can't think of anyone you could have a baby with, and I can't think of anyone I could have a relationship with and not wonder all the time why they're with me."
Remus looked sideways at him. "I thought you and Neville...?"
"No," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Tried. Didn't work. Every time I kissed him I kept picturing him and Castor Warrington going at it."
Remus smiled weakly. "What did ever happen to Warrington?"
"Too many bludgers to the head, I think, if he thought he could cheat on a Gryffindor and get away with it. I think he signed up with Bulgaria's reserve team just to get away from the hate mail. That's what he's doing now. Quidditch."
"It really broke poor Neville's heart," Remus said, shaking his head. "You shouldn't joke about it."
"I'm not," Harry said, shrugging. "So. Do you want to do it or not, Remus?"
Remus bit his lip. "Well..."
Harry couldn't believe Remus was about to agree, or that he was even considering it. After the horror-stricken first reaction to his suggestion, Harry had been sure he wouldn't be able to change Remus' mind, though he had given his all trying. Just how much did Remus want this, anyway?
"Well," Remus said again, sighing. "We can try. But if it looks like it's likely to turn ugly, or if you change your mind even a little --"
"Great!" Harry said, clapping Remus on the shoulder. "Nothing's going to go wrong. You'll see. You'll be a father before the year is out!"
Harry lowered the long roll of parchment, glaring. "You've got to be kidding me."
Remus sighed. "No. I warned you, Harry."
"Maybe I should have used my real name. To hell with the reporters."
"No. I only agreed to this because I thought we could use your pseudonym."
Harry dropped the parchment in disgust, watching as it rolled under the couch. "There's no way I'm submitting to any of that. Who the hell do they think they are?"
"Department of Child Welfare," Remus said dryly, picking up the fallen parchment and folding it neatly. "And they're nothing to mess with. Unless their demands are satisfied, no agency in Britain will work with us."
"Then we'll try outside Britain."
"Other countries have their own regulations, Harry," Remus said, shaking his head. "It won't be any easier. A werewolf and his human partner, who just happens to always be otherwise occupied when it comes time for interviews? This was doomed from the start. We let ourselves be carried away."
"Fine," Harry said, "then we won't do adoption at all. All I see is older kids anyway. We want a baby."
"Or toddler."
"Right. Baby or toddler. But of course if we do surrogacy it will have to be a baby."
Remus stared at him.
"I'm joking," Harry said. "Come on, Remus, lighten up. We're not giving up. We're only getting started. We knew when we got into this that it was going to take some work. We'll just look at all our options."
"We can't consider surrogacy, Harry."
Harry frowned. "Why not? It seems like the obvious choice. I have plenty of money for it."
"It's a medical procedure. You can't hide behind an alternate legal identity. And surrogacy contracts are not enforceable. If the surrogate should change her mind, she can keep the baby and demand support. You can see what kind of problem that would create."
Harry considered, and he didn't like where it led him. "I see what you mean. Or, at least, we can't have it be my baby without risking attracting the wrong type of person. We can use your sperm though, can't we?"
"Not without disclosing my condition."
"It's not contagious that way. I'm sure we can put in a nice bonus and that will take care of it." Harry nodded decisively. "Let's try it. What do we have to lose?"
"Bloody fucking idiots!"
Remus put a hand on his arm. "It's all right, Harry. I expected it. I should have given you better warning."
Harry continued to fume, not listening to him. "I don't bloody believe this!"
"Look," Remus said, still rubbing his arm soothingly, "we can try finding a surrogate independently. It will be more expensive, and I suppose without an agency we will have to engage full time legal representation, but --"
"Well, what the hell is that about having your sperm 'washed'?! That's just ridiculous!"
"It's common sense. I have an infectious disease. People aren't willing to blindly trust that it can't be spread this way, and they're absolutely right not to. There hasn't been a solid study done on werewolves in years, and I don't think there's anything at all on werewolf reproduction or parenting ability. They're concerned for the welfare of any children produced. The law might hold them partly responsible."
Harry took several deep breaths, trying to push down his anger. Yelling wasn't going to solve anything.
"We'll find a surrogate," Remus continued. "Meanwhile, we'll have my sperm washed and banked properly, so there won't be any delay once we've found the right person."
Harry sighed in resignation. "I'll see about buying ad space in Witch Weekly."
"And I'll look up sperm banks."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "You mean there's more than one?"
Harry sat on the couch, glaring at a piece of lint on the carpet.
It had been three weeks since Witch Weekly ran the ad.
Long enough for them to check with every one of the six sperm banks in Britain, and to be turned down by all of them. No one wanted to handle potentially contaminated bodily fluid... or so the official story went. Harry had begun to suspect that these establishments simply did not want to gain a reputation for helping Dark creatures reproduce.
The ad had generated some response. Most, Harry decided after noticing that the return addresses were mostly those in poorer districts, had been drawn by the generous sum offered.
Of course, even if they agreed to use one of the women offering their services, it couldn't be done without a sperm bank. No woman would agree to a home insemination, and, as Remus continued to insist, she would be right not to.
It seemed rather hopeless.
Remus came into the room, smiling when he saw Harry. "Look. This was just delivered."
Harry took the letter from Remus' outstretched hand, frowning. "Another response?"
"This one's different."
Harry took the single sheet of pale pink stationary out of the envelope and began to read aloud.
"Dear R.J.L.,
As the mother of seven children, I know the unparalleled joys parenthood can bring. As the mother of a child afflicted with Lycanthropy, I understand your frustration with the current political atmosphere in Britain, which strives make it next to impossible for you to experience these same joys. I would like to help.
I will not lie to you. The money you are offering is part of the reason I am willing to consider working with you. Next year, four of my children will begin school. Since the death of my husband, money has been tight in our household, and it will never be more so than when four growing children will need to be outfitted with uniforms and school books.
Having made inquiries, I regret to inform you that you may have difficulty locating facilities willing to work with you. As you are undoubtedly aware, no legitimate doctor in Britain will inseminate a patient with unwashed sperm, and at the same time, you are unlikely to find a sperm bank willing to work with you.
The only solution I am able to propose is the use of donor sperm. If you are willing to consider such an arrangement, I would be happy to discuss it with you further.
Yours sincerely,
Mary Jane Baudelaire"
Harry folded the letter again, frowning even harder as he looked up at Remus. "Donor sperm?"
"Do you see? It solves the problem we've had with the sperm banks. We will simply purchase what we need. They will hardly refuse our money."
"And doctors will have no reason to refuse the procedure," Harry added, catching on. "Brilliant!"
"No reason to refuse..." Harry muttered angrily, glaring at the rejection letter that had just arrived from St. Mungo's. "Fucking bastards."
Beside him, Remus sighed heavily. "This isn't going to work Harry. Don't bother with any other hospital. This has already cost you a small fortune."
"You can't give up!" Harry exclaimed. "This is exactly what they want us to do! We can't let them do this!"
Remus only sighed again.
"I'm not giving up," Harry said stubbornly. "I'm going to find a way to make this happen. Maybe it's time I used my influence. Maybe if I talked to the Minister --"
"Don't even think about it," Remus cut him off.
Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "I'll think of something else, then. I'm not giving up. You're getting a baby if I have to have it for you myself!"
Harry sat in front of the fireplace, occasionally looking up at the closed tea room door, but mostly scowling into the flames.
Four hours earlier, his legal representative had confirmed that he and Remus were now on he black list of every hospital, sperm bank, and private practice in Europe. Apparently, Harry's efforts to bribe or strong-arm the opposition were not working.
Three hours earlier, Harry had Apparated to Hogsmeade, walked to Hogwarts, and knocked brazenly on the office door of the man he usually preferred to avoid now that he had no further reason to subject to himself to such unpleasant company.
Two hours earlier, he had returned home, armed with a flask containing a potion it had taken a full hour to obtain from Snape, who had done his best to make it understood that he thought Harry had gone clear out of his mind. Harry had then presented the potion to Remus, and had made his intentions known.
That was why for the past two hours Remus had been in the tea room, with the door locked and warded, apparently intending never to speak to Harry again.
"I don't know why you're being so skittish about it," he said loudly enough to be heard through the wards and the door. "I didn't propose having sex. Don't blame me for taking you seriously!"
There was no answer, just like there hadn't been an answer the previous hundred or so times he had tried to reason with Remus.
"I wouldn't have said it if I'd thought you were such a prude!"
Silence. If he hadn't know there was no other way out of that room, he would have thought Remus was long gone.
"I'm coming in there, if you don't answer me," he warned, getting up and taking his wand out. "I mean it."
There was still no answer, and Harry was forced to deliver on his threat.
"Last chance, Remus," he said, taking aim at the lock.
When a minute passed and Remus was still silent, he blasted away the wards, sprang the lock, and pushed open the door.
Standing in the doorway, he took in the situation very quickly.
Remus was slumped over the table, with his arms folded and his head resting on them. His eyes were shut. One hand was still curled around a glass containing a small amount of whisky.
By the looks of it, what was in Remus' glass was the last of the liquor in all of Grimmauld Place. Two bottles were on the table. Another lay smashed on the floor by Remus' feet. All were empty.
"Remus?" Harry asked cautiously, shaking the man's shoulder. "Are you all right?"
Remus looked up, his bloodshot eyes straining to focus and failing. He opened his mouth, but instead of speaking hiccuped loudly.
"I think you've had enough," Harry said, trying to pry the glass from Remus' fingers.
"No," Remus said, showing surprising strength and pulling the glass to his lips. "Wanna... Gods..."
"Er?" Harry said, still trying to hang on to the glass, though it now seemed certain Remus was going to drain it.
"Gods... sick... wanna n-nail my bes' frien' s-son t'... mattress..."
Harry's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "You want to what?"
"Ba' thoughts," Remus muttered, hitting himself on the forehead in a manner reminiscent of Dobby the house-elf. "Ba' thoughts..."
"Good thoughts!" Harry blurted out, surprising the hell out of himself. "Would you like to go to bed now?"
Remus stared at him with glassy, glazed-over eyes. Then, to Harry's continued shock, he licked his lips, his gaze traveling down Harry's body.
Maybe he had underestimated what a few years of enforced celibacy could do to a man.
Or maybe Remus liked him.
That thought alone pushed him over the edge.
"That's right," he said, stepping backwards toward the door. "Come on."
He knew that if he stopped and considered, he would be disgusted by what he was doing. Remus was clearly out of his head and probably didn't even recognize him. At the very least, he had no control over himself.
He also knew that it would be the last time Remus gave up that control. With sudden clarity, he realized that Remus would never agree to let him carry a baby, no matter what Harry said to try to convince him.
It was either this or go back on his promise to help Remus become a father.
Would Sirius have given up, faced with the same situation? Harry didn't know.
Anyway, Sirius wasn't there. Harry was. And Harry was willing to do this.
It wasn't like neither he nor Remus had ever had sex outside of a committed relationship. Remus had admitted to everything from one night stands to having once engaged a prostitute. And Harry, though the bulk of his experience was limited to a few quick fucks in supply cupboards between classes and in the shower stalls after Quidditch practice, was hardly a saint himself.
He knew Remus found him attractive, at least. Like any human male, Remus could hardly hide the fact that he liked what he saw when he happened to see it, and Harry had caught him looking away guiltily on several occasions.
Pushing away his scandalized conscience, Harry took another few steps backwards, leading Remus through the doorway and into the front room.
Remus tottered after him. Every step was so wobbly, Harry expected him to collapse any second.
Remus did collapse, but they had made it, more or less, to one of the couches. With a little effort, Harry managed to keep Remus' weight on top of him from pulling them both off the edge.
Remus was already hard and humping urgently at Harry's hip through their clothing.
The flask with the potion was still on the low coffee table where Harry had put it. It wasn't too much effort to reach it.
He hesitated with the cork in one hand and his mouth two inches from the bottleneck.
Would Remus hate him for this?
Remus moaned, clawing at Harry's shirt. Two buttons popped off and skidded noisily across the hardwood floor.
Probably.
But Harry didn't see any other option.
Since having Harry artificially inseminated at a hospital was out of the question, at least if the lawyers were correct about the stranglehold the Department of Child Welfare has over medical practitioners, Harry had been going to suggest home insemination. Somehow, he had missed the sarcasm Remus must have intended when he asked if Harry wouldn't rather just fuck each other senseless.
That had hurt. Especially when Remus punctuated his disgust at Harry's quick acceptance of that proposal with a slammed and locked door and more than two hours of dead silence, during which Harry now knew he had been drowning himself in bottle after bottle of hard liquor.
If it wasn't for the alcohol, Remus wouldn't lay a hand on him. And Harry doubted Remus would ever allow himself to get quite so drunk again, when he sobered up and realized what he had almost done.
Even if they stopped now, Remus would wake up the next morning with a ten-ton block of guilt on his chest.
At least this way some good would come out of it.
Remus was gone.
Harry, pulling himself into a sitting position and wincing as any number of bruises and strained muscles made their presence known, looked around the empty room with a sinking feeling.
He had known Remus wouldn't take it well.
Somehow, he had envisioned being slapped awake and having to listen to several long and painful hours of enraged yelling. He had prepared himself, just before closing his eyes and letting exhaustion overtake him, to hear any number of really nasty things come out of Remus' mouth.
Maybe he should have known that wasn't Remus' style. Remus wouldn't blame Harry. Remus would blame himself.
And it looked like he was blaming himself somewhere other than Grimmauld Place.
The doorbell rang shrilly.
With a groan, Harry finally swung his feet off the couch, felt around on the floor for his robes, and started dressing. A quick look in the mirror showed that he looked only slightly better than he felt, but whoever was at the door seemed to be very insistent, so there was no time for a quick run to the bathroom.
The welcome mat, which had been charmed to reveal the name of the person standing on the other side of the door, told him that Hermione was pacing impatiently on the front steps.
"Hermione? What are --"
Harry didn't get to finish. As soon as he had opened the door a crack, Hermione shoved it open and walked in. "You IDIOT! How could you do that to Remus?"
Harry shut the door, which gave him a chance to have his back to her so he could squeeze his eyes shut in a proper cringe.
"Well?" Hermione demanded. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
Harry shrugged halfheartedly. "I didn't get him drunk. He did that all on his own."
"And you took advantage of it!"
"It was for the greater good."
"Greater good? GREATER GOOD? Have you gone completely MAD?"
"I think you're overreacting."
Hermione looked like she was barely holding back from hexing him.
"We tried all the other ways," Harry said, grudgingly accepting that she wasn't going to stand down until she got an explanation. "We tried adoption, surrogacy, and you wouldn't believe how many other options. It just wasn't going to work. Remus wants a baby, and so do I. He was giving up, and I couldn't let that happen."
Hermione frowned, her murderous glare turning into one of suspicion. "What do you mean you want a baby?"
"I've decided I wouldn't mind having a family like this. Remus practically is family, you know. If we have a baby together, it will be official."
Hermione looked incredulous. "You have gone mad, haven't you? Harry. Remus doesn't want to have a baby with someone! You've managed to twist this into something you want for yourself!"
Harry frowned. "He said he wouldn't mind co-parenting with someone. I heard him."
"Yes -- as a last resort! You --" Hermione shook her head, cutting herself off. "You aren't already pregnant, are you?"
"I don't know," Harry said. "I suppose it depends on how good Snape's potion was."
Hermione covered her face with her hands and moaned.
The potion, of course, was very good. Snape may have warned that two or more doses were typically required, along with insemination within a proper period after ingestion, but everyone who knew Snape knew that his potions never failed to work the first time.
Hermione had left, but not before confirming that he was pregnant. Harry hadn't managed to pry a promise of silence out of her, so he was fairly sure Remus would hear of the pregnancy by the end of the day.
Now that the deed was done and he was examining things in a more balanced light, he began to see how Hermione could be right.
Had he completely misunderstood Remus?
And just when exactly had he first realized that he wanted a baby with Remus, instead of merely to help Remus have a baby?
Harry didn't think he was a selfish person. He had sacrificed a large chunk of his life for the greater good of wizard society. He had put himself in danger to prevent the deaths of people he didn't even know and probably never would know. He had sacrificed or put on hold his own needs and desires. He had protected his friends before thinking of himself.
He wasn't selfish.
But Hermione thought he was.
What if Remus thought so too? What if he didn't see Harry's actions the way they had been intended?
These thoughts spoiled Harry's morning entirely.
He took a bath, but somehow felt soiled even after scrubbing away every trace of the previous night's activities.
What if Remus never forgave him? Harry really didn't want to think about that possibility.
There were a lot of things he didn't want to think about, actually, which was why his morning was very harrowing.
Snape had given him a book explaining the process of conception and the creation of a temporary womb, the process of labor, and the birth itself, all in an extremely graphic manner. Illustrated in full color.
After flipping through the first few pages, Harry had tossed the book under the coffee table. Now he picked it up and began reading in earnest.
It had been all very well to say he would carry a baby, when all he had known about it was that it was possible with the proper potions.
Now that he knew exactly what was involved, a very creepy feeling came upon him. He imagined he could feel extra organs growing. It was very disconcerting.
Of course, it was probably just his imagination. If conception had taken place overnight, then all the changes had already happened. His mind was probably just playing tricks on him.
Probably.
But that didn't make him feel particularly better, and by the time he had eaten a very lonely lunch, he thought another minute in the empty house would make him explode.
He left a note saying he would be in Diagon Alley, just in case Remus or someone else from the Order happened to come by.
Diagon Alley was crowded and noisy, and seemed like exactly the sort of place to go when one wanted to feel less alone and to forget one's troubles.
The only problem was that he kept seeing babies in prams and baby things on sale in shop windows.
Remus had taken him into the Bouncing Baby Boutique once. They had looked over tiny booties and bonnets with ruffles, and debated whether a Quidditch mobile could really influence a baby's future playing ability like the advertisement promised.
This time, he passed the Boutique with his eyes averted.
Despite these reminders, being out of Grimmauld Place did make him forget some of the things that were bothering him, and he wandered around until sunset.
He had to go home sooner or later, of course, whether he wanted to or not. Remus would probably be there by now. The sooner they had their row, the sooner Harry could start trying to make amends.
He Apparated back to the house.
"Remus?"
His voice echoed dully.
He didn't need to look at the map tacked onto the wall next to the front door to know that he was the only person in the house.