Enjoy!
Harry grimaced as his eyes fluttered open, not understand why he felt sticky all over. It wasn't until he sat up and his blanket fell down, revealing his naked form that he started to get some inkling of what had happened a few hours prior.
"Rose."
Harry shook his head to get rid of the memory. He had to deal with his hangover first before he started feeling guilty for his actions.
Stumbling into the kitchen, Harry blindly felt for the countertops and then the cabinets where he knew there was a store of potions being kept. Finally finding the right cabinet, Harry yanked the door open only to be faced with his next problem—the vials were all the same size and height. There was no way to tell by touch alone which potions were which.
"Where's a wand when you need it," Harry muttered as he felt his way over to the sink, where he could last remember setting his wand down. After a few seconds of fumbling, he finally found his wand by knocking it into the sink. The resounding clatter made Harry's end start to pound.
"Lumos," Harry muttered and squeezed his eyes shut as the tip of his wand brightened. Now able to see more clearly, the wizard in witch form perused the potions cabinet, frowning when he noticed that there was nothing in there for hangovers. The best he could do at the moment was a mild headache reliever, which Harry downed as soon as he read the label.
Once he felt somewhat more human, Harry realized that he needed to find Blaise. It appeared that the man was already awake and the former Gryffindor felt that he needed to apologize, even if he wasn't completely sure what he was going to apologize for.
Blaise glanced toward the door of the nursery when he heard it open. His jaw clenched tightly when he spotted the figure in the doorframe.
"I don't know why I'm surprised to find you in here," Harry murmured as he entered the room and shut the door once again. It was silent for a few minutes before he spoke up again. "So this is awkward."
"We need to fire call Professor Flitwick, so he can find a healer," Blaise announced.
"A healer? Why? Is Leanne sick?" If the circumstances were any different, Blaise would have been pleased to hear the concern in Harry's voice, showing a type of care that Rose had never really been capable of. Instead, he wanted to laugh at Harry's obliviousness.
"Leanne's fine," Blaise assured Harry. "We need one for you."
"For me? I feel fine."
Blaise rolled his eyes at Harry's protests. "We just had sex," he pointed out.
"So? I don't see how disappointing sex results in us needing to call a healer."
"You thought it was disappointing?" Blaise asked, raising an eyebrow as he turned to look at Harry fully. For the first time he realized that both of them were still naked.
"We were drunk," Harry stated dryly. "Of course it was disappointing. Drunk sex always is."
Blaise was forced to agree.
"However, I still don't understand why us having sex suddenly means we need to call a healer. The last time I checked, having sex is normal."
"We had unprotected sex," Blaise clarified and sighed when it seemed that Harry still didn't get the point. "I don't know how it's escaped your notice, Potter, but you're currently female. I'm male. Do you know what happens when males and females get together and have unprotected sex? There's a very good hint currently sleeping in this room."
"Piss off," Harry growled out as both his mind and heart began to race. "That shouldn't even be possible. Polyjuice doesn't go that far!"
"Under normal circumstances, no," Blaise agreed. "But as you already clearly know, Kyth hair when mixed with Polyjuice produces some very abnormal results."
"I'm a bloke!" Harry protested. "I can't be pregnant."
"Don't have a panic attack right now," Blaise snapped. "We don't even know if you are yet. I just wanted to call a healer as a precaution." His words went unheard as Harry's breaths continued to quicken and get louder with each passing second. Blaise muttered a few choice words under his breath and reached out to grasp Harry's shoulders. "It's just a precaution," he repeated. "Say it with me—it's just a precaution."
"It's just a precaution," Harry muttered reluctantly. "You better hope that's all it is. I won't be held responsible for my actions if you actually knocked me up."
Blaise tried not to wince. He had heard those words before.
"We should clean up and dressed," he said. "Then I'll give Professor Flitwick a call."
Harry nodded. "I'm going to take a shower," he decided. "Get that healer here fast."
"As fast as I can," Blaise confirmed. "Believe me, the thought of a possible pregnancy is just as frightening for me as it is for you."
"Doubt it," Harry muttered under his breath as he walked away.
Harry gathered up his clothes as he passed the living room and stashed the bottle of vodka in the cabinet above the sink. After a moment of hesitation, he grabbed a dose of Polyjuice, with one of Rose's hairs already included. He needed to take one soon so why not now?
Stepping into the shower did wonders for not only Harry's physical state but also for his mental state. The hot water relaxed his muscles and allowed his mind to wander in ways that it couldn't at any other time.
Unfortunately, this time Harry's mind didn't wander. It was stuck on one track and refused to go elsewhere.
There was a very small possibility that he could be pregnant. Shit. Fuck. Bloody hell.
Was this how every girl felt after she had had sex? Ginny had never let on the few times she and Harry had slept together.
What the hell was he going to do if he actually was? Harry knew that he would never purposefully get rid of the child but he had no idea of how to handle actually being pregnant. He had never been around a pregnant woman before.
Harry groaned and rested his head against the shower wall.
"Why do I keep finding myself in these situations?" he whispered to himself. "Why is my life so bloody messed up?"
Unfortunately, Harry didn't have an answer to his questions. With a reluctant sigh, he turned off the water to the shower and proceeded to get ready for what was most likely going to be an awkward appointment with a healer he most likely had never met before.
"Didn't drown then?" Blaise asked when Harry made his appearance.
"Kind of hard to do while taking a shower," came Harry's response. "Did you get a hold of Flitwick?"
Blaise nodded. "Luckily, it's the weekend," he said. "He'll be here after lunch, along with a healer he trusts and knows a few things about Kyth."
Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he sat down at the kitchen table but his feeling of relief passed quickly. "We need to talk about last night, don't we?" he asked.
Blaise frowned. "Let's deal with the healer and diagnostic spells first," he said, turning away. "Then we can talk."
"Look, I'm hardly the poster boy for talking about my feelings but don't you feel that it's best to talk about last night now? And not when we possibly have other things to worry about as well?"
"I'm taking a shower," Blaise decided. Harry's jaw dropped at the man's blatant refusal but couldn't stop Blaise in time from leaving the room. With a loud groan, Harry lightly hit his head against the table.
"Brilliant," he muttered. "Absolutely brilliant. This is a bloody nightmare."
For the next few hours, Blaise and Harry tiptoed around each other, neither quite sure how things stood between them. After Harry's failed attempt to reach out, it seemed to have been decided to wait until after the healer had left before they would actually talk.
The wait was torture. Harry was sure he had checked the floo one hundred times in less than five minutes, waiting for the telltale flare that would bring Professor Flitwick and the healer.
As much as Harry anticipated the arrival, he couldn't stop his heart leaping into his throat when the fireplace finally turned green.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen!" Professor Flitwick declared before he had even stepped out of the fireplace. "Poppy will be coming through in a heartbeat."
"Poppy?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow in slight confusion.
"Madam Pomfrey?" Blaise asked, sounding more shocked than confused. Harry paled at the matron's name and he took a few steps back. It had been a while since he had seen the woman but he still had very clear memories of Madam Pomfrey and the hospital wing at Hogwarts. However, before he could react more, the fireplace flared again and out marched Poppy Pomfrey, a medicine bag in hand. As she stepped out of the fireplace, her eyes landed on Harry and she gave him a dry smile.
"Mr. Potter, you've definitely changed since the last time I saw you," she said. Harry flushed and stuttered out a few nonsensical things. "Now, what seems to be the problem? Filius said that you thought it was urgent?"
Harry glared at Blaise, silently ordering him to explain the situation. Blaise swallowed nervously before starting.
"Urgent in regards to our peace of mind," he said. "My daughter Leanne turned six months old yesterday and we decided to celebrate. Alcohol was involved and one thing led to another and now…we would like a pregnancy test." As Blaise was speaking, Harry's flush continually increased. It reached an all time high when Madam Pomfrey eyed him up and sighed.
"Only you, Mr. Potter," she tutted. "This happened over the night? It hasn't been twenty-four hours yet?" Harry and Blaise shook their heads in unison. "Well, then. That certainly makes things a bit more complicated but it's not impossible. I'll have to come back in a week or two to double check the results but usually these diagnostics done within the first day are about seventy-five percent accurate."
"So the results could be wrong?" Harry asked hopefully, just in case there was a positive result. Madam Pomfrey gave him a long look.
"It's possible but don't expect it," she said. "You of all people shouldn't expect it, Mr. Potter. Knowing your luck, this first answer will be my final answer."
Harry chewed the inside of his cheek, knowing that she was right. When had things ever worked out in his favor like that?
"We'll do the diagnostics and then we'll go from there," Madam Pomfrey decided. "Hopefully this will be a quick visit but if it's not…" The matron didn't finish her sentence and Harry's stomach twisted nervously.
At Madam Pomfrey's direction, Harry laid down on the couch, trying to ignore the feeling of Blaise and Professor Flitwick's gazes on him or the feeling of a wand hovering above his abdomen.
After a minute or two, Madam Pomfrey let out a tsk. Harry's pulse quickened. That sound never brought good news.
"It seems we have more to talk about than I originally thought," Poppy Pomfrey announced. "A lot more."
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