The Basket Case

by Stray

October 31, 2005

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or its characters and make no money of it. I'm not sure I would even if I owned them.

Warnings: This is my first HP fanfic that you got to see. I'm not a native English speaker, but I try. And this is going to contain SLASH! If you don't like it, you can still read it if you harbour masochistic tendencies. Flames are used to warm my cold little heart. Constructive criticism is appreciated.

Beta-ed by: Kathleen

8 ·m 8 ·m 8 ·m 8 ·m 8 ·m 8 ·m 8

Chapter Twelve

"I need something strong," Draco whinged pathetically, with his face buried in his hands. This time, Snape could tell that only half of it was acting and the other half was real distress.

Draco felt a mug pressed between his lax fingers, and he grabbed it instinctually, lifting the beverage to his mouth. But then, when the warm steam reached his face, he got suspicious. He sniffed the contents, and grimaced when it turned out to be tea.

"Ugh. I know you have got older, but you haven't turned completely into Dumbledore yet, have you?"

Snape didn't deem his question worthy of an answer; he just gave him a very effective staggering look, which made Draco immediately shut his mouth and sip his drink. The tea felt good; it calmed his nerves almost instantly, and it was strong after all. Draco assumed that Snape had also put something more potent into it than just tea leaves, but he couldn't tell what; it tasted exactly like normal tea should have.

"So? What happened now?" Snape's snarl didn't leave a doubt about how welcome Draco was at that moment, but if Snape had been in the middle of brewing, he would have told Draco already, so it must have been just Snape's usual overflowing friendliness.

Draco looked up from his already half-emptied mug. He was tired and a bit hungry, even if he had eaten a late breakfast just before he had left home for Knockturn Alley. He turned away his face before Snape used the opportunity to sneak past his lowered defences into his mind.

Apart from Pansy he hadn't told anyone about Scott. She hadn't been that keen to hear all the dirty details as Draco had feared, and Draco wouldn't have volunteered telling her anything past the most basic facts, nor ever ask for her advice. Not even if she hadn't turned hostile towards him after learning about his past actions. Pansy was his wife, how should he ever expect her to respect him if he went to her for advice? Snape was the only other person to actually know what had happened that night. And right now Draco needed someone desperately to discuss the newest developments, or at least pour out his soul. He shuddered at that person being Snape, but at the same time he realised that there was no one else he could confide in.

He groaned and put the mug down.

"I am probably going to regret this later, but alright, I'll tell you what's wrong. I just learnt that the man I used to…" he gestured towards his stomach as he was wont to do at the rare occurrences he was referring to the thing… child in him, "isn't a foreigner as I initially thought. I wanted it to be someone whom I would never meet again, that's why I… went there. And now this… person turns up in Borgin and Burkes, even has the audacity to tell me not to try and buy dark magic there. He refused to sell me Thestral blood. He told me they didn't deal in that kind of thing, while I know for a fact that Borgin and Burkes has it always on stock."

"Went where?" Snape lifted a brow. He didn't let himself distracted by the following rant containing random potion ingredients not exactly subtly slipped between the lines, as Draco had expected him to.

The last time Draco had visited Snape – on the morning after his trip to Copenhagen - he had refused to tell him anything more about the ordeal than the fact that it happened. Snape had been – and, apparently, was still - cross with him ever since for 'withholding possibly essential information'. It looked like this time Draco wouldn't get out of it. He still felt reluctant to divulge where he had gone and what exactly getting pregnant had involved – he didn't want Snape to come to the conclusion that he regularly visited such places. But then, feeling his former Head of House's prickling stare on him wasn't any better, so he finally conceded.

"A gay club, okay? I met him in a Copenhagen gay club."

Snape made a high-pitched noise that sounded like the air let out of a balloon through a tiny hole. Draco shivered. And people wondered why no one had heard Snape laugh? Draco would have done without the experience, thank you very much. But even being appalled couldn't divert his mind from being embarrassed that he had been – once again – laughed at, causing the skin of his cheeks to warm up with all the blood running into them.

"You went into a gay club?" Snape sneered. "While I certainly agree with the notion of getting involved with someone from a different milieu, I would have thought you would be choosing the father of your child more…" He gave Draco another unreadable look, and his voice went down an octave at the last word," …carefully."

"I would have if there was more time," Draco protested furiously.

Snape wasn't impressed. His eyes bore into Draco's like knife into butter. "There was time, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco blinked abruptly upon realising that Snape had succeeded making him look into his eyes and presenting his mind for a little slideshow for him. He didn't know how much of his memories the other man had succeeded to catch; the intrusion had been so subtle and short that he didn't even notice it until Snape corrected him based upon something he couldn't have known just from their conversations.

"Was that really necessary?" he asked irritated with Snape's presumptuousness. He might have been older and his former mentor, but that didn't give him the right to treat Draco as a child. Alas, he could only blame himself, since he had known Snape had the intention to spy into his mind since he had practically fallen over his doorstep.

Snape had a distant look and a slight frown on his face. He was deep in his thoughts, most likely putting together and analysing the random pictures he had alleviated from Draco's mind. Draco didn't want him to rummage around in his memories of that night, considering that half of the time he hadn't had his clothes on. On second thought, Draco didn't want him to see the clothes-part either. He needed a distraction, and the best distraction was giving out information, because then Snape had to concentrate on what he said instead of the 'pretty pictures'.

"Did you know that the Ministry sends out Aurors to spy on Borgin and Burkes?"

Snape glanced back at him with a sharp look. This time Draco deliberately lowered his eyelids; he was prepared to close them or wrench away his gaze if the Potions Master tried anything, but Snape didn't seem interested.

"And how would you know about that?"

Draco leaned back in his chair and assumed a more comfortable posture.

"I told you I was there today to buy a few necessary things, among others Thestral blood, which I didn't get, because the shop assistant, that Scott McNeil refused to sell me any."

"I have some Thestral blood in my storeroom, but may I ask for what purpose you need it? Brewing potions in your condition is not exactly without danger, you know. By the way, don't you mean Simon McNeil?"

Draco was mortified with his slip of tongue. He hoped that he hadn't made the same mistake while he had been in the store! "Oh. Yes, Simon. Do you know him?" Draco had recognised the momentary startled look Snape gave him at the mention of the name. It was evident that he did.

The Potions Master shrugged and attempted to sound casual while telling him something akin the lines of buying one of his less common ingredients there every month or so. If Draco hadn't been that well acquainted with his mannerisms, he would have bought it. "So who is Scott?"

Damn it. Unfortunately, Snape was just as skilled in reading Draco's facial expressions as the other way around. He was able tell that the slip wasn't without a cause. "'Scott' was the name he used when I met him there, for… you know what," Draco grumbled, irritated with the other man's sharp eye.

Snape's face paled, or he shifted into a position where the light shone onto it brighter, making it loose colour, as he made an abrupt move towards Draco.

"Simon McNeil is the father of your child?" he inquired on a strangled voice.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't be so melodramatic! He is under no circumstances the 'father'. I am the father. He was just a tool to achieve my goal." Draco didn't understand why Snape refused to see the picture. The child would be his heir, his blood and the key to his inheritance and no one else's. No one apart from Draco would be able to understand what he had undergone in order to get what he wanted; rightfully it belonged to him and no one else. It was of absolutely no consequence whom else Draco had used in its creation. He didn't plan to tell anyone about it, why would he? It didn't even merit speaking about it any more.

"In any case, as I told you, I am in need of Thestral blood. I would appreciate if you could give up some of your stock to me. Naturally, I am willing to pay the market price for it. I don't even need much, just a few drops to the gender-changing ritual."

Snape lifted a brow in a familiar questioning gesture. Of course, having close relations to the Malfoys, he must have had knowledge about the ritual; most likely, he had even participated in one or two. Seeing his stand as Potions Master and the kin no Malfoy would officially recognise as one, he was the natural candidate when a matter like that required the assistance of someone with Snape's abilities. His competence was well known and his loyalty to the family was granted by ancient lineage magic; the Malfoy blood that flew in his veins and the fact that his mother had been only the daughter of a maidservant. Therefore she, and every one of her descendants, had only obligations towards but no rights within the Malfoy family. Snape wasn't in the position to refuse help in a serious matter a Malfoy requested of him, which had cost him dearly more than once in the past.

Draco refused to feel any kind of guilt for his parents and himself having exploited that in the past, or for planning to continue with that practice in the future. He just cursed himself for not thinking about this possibility before he had rushed into this heir business. Of course, he had very good reasons for not wanting to impose himself on Snape in the past. Draco had had to be careful not to waste his help on insignificant issues if he had wanted stay in Snape's favour after the fiasco with the old codger, but the current situation was of such a high importance that justified the means he was about to invoke. And in addition he had to consider the possibility that if he didn't recruit Snape, the odds were that someone else, who wasn't on his side, would. No true Malfoy, including Draco, would let a perfectly good opportunity slip out of their fingers just because of some petty thing called ethics that neither them nor Snape believed in, and the man knew that perfectly well.

"Let me guess. You want my help with the ritual?" Snape asked – not because he didn't anticipate something like that to happen, he just wanted clarification of what exactly would be expected of him.

Draco nodded once. If Snape had told him that his condition wasn't favourable for brewing potions, by all means, he didn't need to endanger his inheritance.

"So it is a girl then?" Snape asked what seemed to be the obvious; already half in thought and just thinking aloud, therefore the indifferent answer Draco gave him had startled him for a minute.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" The Potions Master scowled at Draco. "I would have expected that the first task you gave your mediwizard or witch would have been to determine…"

At Draco's blank expression Snape slowly closed his eyes and then opened them with an almost hurt expression. He gave a noisy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"No, don't say anything. I'm going to guess: you didn't have the forethought to seek a mediwizard about this… pregnancy of yours." At least Snape was no less ill at ease about his condition than Draco. He could have shown more understanding towards the delicacy of the situation Draco was in.

"This is not a regular pregnancy, if you wouldn't have noticed," he hissed at the dark haired man. "I can't exactly take the risk of letting the wrong sort of people know about it."

Snape fixed him with his gaze for a second while he seemed to think about something, then, after telling him to wait, he left Draco alone while he disappeared into his private rooms.

Draco didn't have to sit there alone for long. He had barely drained the contents of his freshly refilled cup – courtesy of a skinny house-elf Draco hadn't even known Snape owned – when his former professor returned, dressed into a long coat that fully covered his robes and some kind of Muggle-looking boots. Seeing the later, Draco barely refrained from a sneer, but he masked his expression with turning away and donning his own coat.

Snape gave him a once over and declared his appearance "good enough", which made Draco sputter, since his clothes were way better than "good enough", in fact Snape in his best coat looked barely more than a street urchin next to him.

"Where are we going?" Draco asked, since he assumed that Snape hadn't just decided to take a walk around the house or visit relatives – if he even had some who were willing to consider him as family instead of a competent servant.

Snape looked at Draco after having closed the door and reinstalled the wards behind them.

"We are going to Muggle London. I know someone who is willing to help and can be trusted with your little privacy-problem."

"Who is it?"

"You don't know him. But if it isn't enough that I trust him, there is the fact that by agreeing to examine and – if necessary – treat you, if it comes out, he is going to be in more trouble than just a bit of publicity."

Draco nodded. That at least was a reassurance he would be able to use, would it become necessary to ensure secrecy. Snape indicated that Draco put his hand onto the older man's shoulder in order to be able to Apparate them both to the location only he was familiar with.

(8 8)

The place where Snape took them was like the Muggle equivalent of the worst part of Knockturn Alley. Draco couldn't fathom for the life of him what Snape wanted in this part of… London? He wasn't even sure they were still in Britain until he saw a street plate next to the door Snape was heading, stating that they were about to enter Two Indy Street. Draco had an uneasy feeling in his gut that instilled him to stay alert.

The door lead into some kind of art store; at least Draco thought it had to sell something connected to art, as the walls were covered with coloured pictures of the most diverse kind. There were line arts and oriental drawings next to a vulgar collection of skulls, snakes, dragons, roses, weapons and naked women. The inside was dark, like that of Borgin and Burkes, but Draco doubted that it was in order to preserve some of the more light-sensitive Dark artifacts, seeing that it was a Muggle establishment. The most peculiar thing was the large leather-covered chair in the middle of the store and the odd metal paraphernalia stationed around it.

When they entered, a little bell attached to the top of the door made known their presence, and soon the curtain separating the main area from the hind section lifted to let through a tall man clad into hideous Muggle jeans and chequered flannel shirt. He looked a decade older than Snape – as well as Draco was able to tell in the semi-darkness. He had pale, longish hair with more grey than blonde in it, tied into a messy pony-tail. His squared jaw was framed by a funny moustache that drooped in the middle and trailed down to his chin, where the two halves were tied together. All in all, he looked very much like an aging 'hippy' depicted in Pansy's Muggle studies book she had showed him once. Draco grimaced in disgust. What was Snape thinking, bringing him here?

"Severus?" the man was apparently surprised to see the Potions Master, but neither scared nor pleased by his visiting, which were the most common reactions Snape got from people who knew him – at least on the rare occasions when Draco was with him to observe. Snape nodded, greeting the man as an equal, which made Draco more confused. This couldn't be a Muggle, could it? The man then looked at him, but his face showed no indication of recognition. Draco didn't know if he should be glad or offended by this, if his doubts about the stranger's non-magical origin were right.

"I guess, we should go inside," the man said, indicating the curtained opening he had come from, and sealing the shop door with a muttered spell that confirmed Draco's suspicion. Snape had started towards the back with a familiarity that suggested this wasn't his first visit here, obviously expecting Draco to follow him, which he did.

The room in behind the curtain was something of a surprise, as it didn't reflect the main shop area. It was small, but well lit and nearly sterilely clean. Draco didn't have time to recover from his surprise, when their host had cleared his throat behind him.

"Draco Malfoy, if I'm not wrong?" he asked, but it was apparent that the question was mere civility, as he was in no doubt about Draco's identity. He offered his hand – it was large with long, calloused fingers and definitely cleaner than Draco would have thought based on his appearance. Draco took it. The man had a firm handshake.

"My name is Sturgis Podmore, you can call me Stu or Doc, as the Muggles here do." Draco refrained from grimacing at those undignified Muggle names. Had the man no respect for himself at all? "I take that Snape, the old bastard here, didn't told you anything about me."

Draco was only able to nod, while Snape, standing in the background, grimaced at the all-too-familiar treatment, and the other man continued his introduction.

"I am a Healer, or more precisely, I was a Healer until I was chucked into Azkaban for six months for trespass in the Ministry approximately ten years ago. It wasn't very beneficial for my healing career in St. Mungo's - though I understand that no hospital would want to employ an ex-criminal."

Draco nodded again. Even though he had been never a member of the Order of the Phoenix, he had heard the story from those who were as one of the war-anecdotes, and was now able to connect it with the name Sturgis Podmore. He had never wondered what had happened to the man who got caught, and evidently none of the Order members he had spoken to had known it either. Though, it seemed now that Snape must have.

Draco looked around in the illegal wizarding clinic in the middle of a Muggle ghetto. He spotted the framed Healer diploma on the wall. It had been torn into two and both parts were stamped with a large red script that read: REVOKED.

Draco was surprised by a sardonic laugh behind him as Podmore noticed what Draco was looking at.

"I like the second one better."

Draco looked at what the Healer indicated. Next to the diploma was another one in an identical frame that was the copy of the original – without the tearing and the red letters – made by the hands of a child with Muggle colour pencils. Draco had already suspected that the Healer had also Muggle patients, which didn't seem to encourage the decision to put himself into the care of this man, but Snape interrupted his thoughts.

"Introductions done? Good, because we came for a reason."

Podmore pocketed his hands and turned towards the Potions Master with undeniable amusement. "I thought so, too. How can I help you?"

"Not me, Mr. Malfoy," Snape inclined his head with an impatient jerk towards Draco.

Podmore lifted his wand and started on a batch of examination spells cast on Draco without further questions. He worked quick and efficient with an aura of someone who knew what he was doing, which had a calming effect of Draco, who didn't think much of him after seeing the Muggle background.

"Interesting," the Healer spoke after a few minutes silence that was only disturbed by occasional pops and zaps of magic. "Do you have any idea what could cause these highly unusual values? Light poisoning? A miscast spell? Muggle STD?"

Draco scowled at the last assumption – who did the man think he was? - and desperately wanted to disabuse the Healer of that notion. But he still didn't trust Podmore enough to tell him about his condition. Snape apparently didn't have the same scruples. For some reason he seemed to be irritated with Draco, enough to override his right to choose to whom he disclosed information about himself and taking the matters in his hand.

"Pregnancy," the Potions Master supplied in his usual acerbic manner.

"Fascinating." The wand stopped in the middle of another charm. "May I ask how that came about?"

Draco thought it was too late to be secretive. But he still wasn't keen on telling the particulars to a complete stranger. So he was perfectly content to leave the talking to Snape, who seemed to be both better acquainted with the Healer and more composed than Draco was at the moment. Though Snape's description was a bit too detailed for his taste, sometimes including information that the Potions Master must have snatched out of Draco's mind, because he couldn't remember telling him those. Having been a spy for so long and needing to feed both sides regularly with satisfying information had the unfortunate effect of turning Snape into a terrible gossip, if the situation required his input. At least being a spy had also thought him the importance of discretion, so Draco didn't have to worry that he would tell about his condition another person without his permission.

In the end Podmore got a fairly good summary of the events that lead to the current situation, though Snape had left out the part of Draco having brewed the fertility potion himself, he just told the Healer that he had been mislead regarding the true nature of the concoction. Draco noticed the slight change in the Healer's stoical demeanour at the mention of the 'other father's name. Great! Did that mean everyone in the wizarding world knew who Scott McNeil was? Though considering the nature of this establishment it wasn't that strange that Podmore would have the acquaintance of a shop assistant working at Borgin and Burkes, Draco tried to calm his nerves.

After having ascertained that both Draco and the child's health were satisfactory, Draco asked the Healer for the charm to reveal the gender of the foetus. Podmore had to dig up an ancient tome in order to reacquaint himself with the charm as he hadn't used it since he was forced to leave St. Mungo's, but he assured Draco that he was perfectly capable of casting and interpreting it.

When, despite all of the reassurances, it didn't work he just lifted a brow and said, "We have a problem."

Draco didn't like it. Snape, who had been content to sit on a chair next to the far wall without so much as a comment or change of his stony expression, scowled and stood up.

"What is the problem?" Draco asked. Was this man really a Healer? He hated these unknown situations, but at least Snape didn't seem to have doubts in Podmore's abilities, and Draco had no other choice than to trust in his former professor's judgement.

Podmore didn't answer instantly; he tried to cast a few more spells on him, which made Draco irritated, because he didn't know what they were. They turned out to be more advanced medical charms than those Draco had been already acquainted with from the books he had studied.

"It looks like magical incompatibility. Don't worry Draco, this is a common occurrence in pregnancies. It just means that your magic is not compatible with that of the foetus – most likely because it inherited the magical traits from the other father." Draco really wanted to let loose a reprimand. How dare he call him on his given name? But the meaning of what the Healer had just said gave him more of a concern right now. Magic had been that had created this thing inside him. It didn't mean any good if the magic proved suddenly defective, now did it?

"What does that mean? Can something be done?" he asked trying not to show how concerned he was by the whole thing.

"Yes, there is a potion you have to take." Draco gave a relieved sigh. "I'm sure Snape can make it for you. However…" and that didn't promise any good, "You should have taken it weeks ago. Now that the foetus is almost two months old it won't be as effective. It will keep you from getting ill, but it won't deter temporary loss of your magic on occasion."

"What?" Draco had never before lost his magic. To think that this pregnancy could cause that to happen was a terrifying aspect.

"And furthermore, any magic cast on the foetus is useless. The natural barrier developed in these two months that shields it from your magic that would be harmful for it prevents any other stronger magic cast on it from an outside source. That means, I can tell whether it is healthy or not, which it is, but the spell to determine its gender, for example, won't work on it. I'm sorry."

This was bad. This meant that Draco was forced to perform the gender-changing ritual without knowing whether it is necessary or not. Fortunately, the ritual was different for changing the gender to male and female, so he wouldn't change the foetus accidentally into a girl if it were a boy to begin with.

And it meant that what couldn't be determined by magic, had to be examined by… other methods. Draco was shown a cubicle with a white curtain for privacy, a chair and a hanger to place his robes on while he put on the white hospital gown. Then he was examined by methods that reminded him too strongly at the Muggle urologist he had had an appointment with before this all started. He didn't like it at all. But thankfully, it was over quickly. While he was changing back, he heard the faint voices of a conversation from outside – the curtain was apparently impregnated with a partial silencing spell, though Draco couldn't for his life guess what for.

"What about our 'other patient'?" That voice belonged to Podmore. Snape shushed him and started to speak in hushed tones, but Draco was able to understand only pieces of it.

"… not now… haven't met… give him his potions…any change?"

"No, he hasn't been here in a couple of months. I'm starting to worry, to be honest." Podmore's deep baritone was more discernable than Snape's hissing. Draco's hand stopped in the middle of hanging up the hospital gown, and, as an acquired habit, he began to eavesdrop shamelessly. "I know he has this super secret job right now, but he should really be more concerned about his health. There was a reason he was dismissed from the Auror department, he shouldn't take it lightly. Does he even know about this… recent development?"

Then Snape hissed something urgently - or was that reprimand? - at which Podmore murmured in an offended manner:

"I'm a Healer, not a baby-sitter."

Draco was aware that he had been there too long already, so he reluctantly pulled open the curtain and stepped outside.

After having arranged another visit with the Healer, Snape ushered Draco outside. Draco supposed that Snape would insist that Draco keep him company while he was brewing the potion Podmore wanted him to take. He wasn't delighted at the prospect of another lengthy questioning from the Potions Master while he was forced to wait. As much as Draco resented the man for bringing him here, he had felt elated having had confirmation that everything – well, almost everything – was alright with him and the child, so even though he felt tired and knew that he had a long afternoon to look forward to, he couldn't get himself to worry about Snape right now. Perhaps, he would be able to avert the topic from himself and extract some interesting information about that mysterious conversation he had overheard. And he still had to get the Thestral blood Snape had promised to give him.

TBC