Chapter One

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and Warner Bros. have it all, does it really need saying?

Warnings: M/M, F/M, sexism, bullying, rape, pregnancy-resulting-from-rape, abuse, some chapters may be M rated

Harry is OC in this fic, instead of being against bullying he takes advantage of his social standing and targets others

"Are you expecting someone?" Hermione said from her seat next to Ron, tearing his attention from his breakfast.

"Yeah, what's so funny?" he asked Harry around a forkful of bacon.

Harry and the twins hadn't eaten anything, and kept shooting furtive glances towards the entrance of the Great Hall, sniggering to themselves.

"Oh, no, it's nothing, just - here they come!" Ron frowned at their excited tones and then spun around as a bang echoed through the Great Hall.

The doors slammed open, drawing the attention of most of the diners. A small group of green-clad students hurried in, trying to slow the path of the half-dressed person at its head, who was yelling furiously in a shrill voice. They seemed, much to his concern, to be heading straight towards them.

"Potter! You son-of-a-mudblood, you did this! I'm going to kill you!"

The chatter in the hall stopped dead and all heads followed the red-faced figure, who was now brandishing their wand straight at Harry, then loud, disbelieving whispers broke out.

"Is that-?"

"Oh my God, is that-?"

"It is! It's Draco Malfoy!"

"But... but... but..."

Ron's mouth hung open as he stared Malfoy up and down. But Malfoy didn't have long, messy hair like that. But Malfoy didn't have an hourglass figure like that.

But Malfoy wasn't a mother-fricking girl.

"What's the matter, Dracey? Feeling a little heavy-hearted?" Harry taunted, as the boys around him made a point of leering at his (now rather prominent) chest.

"Maybe you should lay off the pumpkin pie, fatso!" someone called out.

His rounded face flushed even more and he wrapped a protective arm around himself, and Ron did his best to avert his eyes. Even if it was Malfoy, it seemed kind of scummy to stare; he was only wearing a school shirt, with nothing underneath, and a pair of borrowed gym shorts which, whilst fitting his much wider hips better than his own clothes would have, weren't covering much up.

"Potter, did you do this? Or was it Weasley over there? Tell me and I'll fucking curse your balls off, no potions involved!"

Ron flailed to cover up his delicates. "Me and my balls have got nothing to do with this!" As high as Malfoy's new voice was, he still sounded pretty threatening.

Professor McGonagall and Snape managed to catch only the last part of the conversation as they reached the table, and both gave him very strange looks.

"Can I ask just what's going on here, Mister Potter? Mister Malfoy?" McGonagall questioned. "And could you please put away your wands?"

"I think it's fairly obvious, Minerva. Potter and his disciples have used a very old and very forbidden potion, which is only found in the restricted section of the library, to spike Draco's supper. I would once again like to suggest detention-"

"Every night for their remaining years here, and or explulsion, we know, Severus." Dumbledore twinkled up behind the looming Potions Master. "But there have been no unlawful entries to the restricted section all term, and a potion as advanced as that would require exact and skilled instruction. Harry, did you, or any of your friends, give Draco a potion of any kind?"

"No Sir." He was clearly lying, but Dumbledore was, as ever, blind to Harry's wrongdoings.

"I thought not. Well, back to breakfast!" he said with a cheery bearded smile.

"But Professor Dumbledore-!"

"But Albus-!" Snape and Draco protested as Harry fought to keep his face straight as he stared down at the table across from Ron. It was obviously hime, but he couldn't have- Ron looked sideways at Hermione who was also looking at the table, guilt all over her face.

"Draco, I'm afraid you will have to give us a little time to find an antidote for your... situation. In the meantime, come with me and Professor Snape."

Draco shoved his wand into his pocket and, hunching his shoulders from the boys' inappropriate gazes, turned away, shivering in the cold morning air. As soon as the teachers were no longer looking most of the Gryffindor boys began miming crudely. Ron looked around, surprised at their behaviour, but none of the Slytherin students were defending or helping him; they had all returned to their table as soon as it was clear the teachers had taken over.

He felt a little uneasy; the behaviour of the boys was violently sexist, a crime that had always been scolded severely in their house. His twin brothers, too, no longer looked as enthusiastic about supporting Harry, who was acting as bad as the rest.

Acting without thinking things through had always been his specialty, so as he shrugged off his cloak and balled it up he wasn't considering the backlash he would get from helping Malfoy, or how little sense it made: all he could imagine was 'what if it was Ginny being stared at, or Hermione, or Luna, vulnerable in front of the whole school?'

He threw it to Malfoy who, upon catching it, looked at him, scowling and cconfused. Then accusatory. Then just relieved as it didn't turn out to be a curse of some kind, and he slipped it on, sheilding him. Boos sounded and Ron got elbowed a few times, and a couple of forkfuls of food were hurled at him, but that was nothing unusual on the Gryffindor table.

And as Draco wrapped it tight around him and followed the teachers, tripping on his own feet several times, much to the amusement and jeering of the crowd, Ron couldn't help but be glad he'd helped him, and for a second had the feeling that Draco could care less about the Gryffindor-ness of the cloak, and the giver.

Please REVIEW with any suggestions. I will do my very best to include them.

Special thanks to Westyversionfrench and mixMartina.

Lots of Love, Gemma.