There are already some signatures on the new petition for bringing back the MA-rating to this site; let´s try to make them some more! Democracy is a right we are lucky to have, but also a duty which requires people to take responsibility. If you personally don´t take action, and might it be by signing a petition which takes one minute only, then you will never be able to change anything. Without enough signatures we have no chance to get what we want! Please, take the time and help to make a change!

www. PetitionOnline . com / MArating / petition . html (you know how it works, remove the spaces, there you go..)

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Thanks for the many reviews to the last chapter! My precious reviewers are listed at the end of the chapter again!

Sorry for updating so late, but there seemed to have been a server problem for some days. Problems with new advertisement space

maybe? Hehehe!

The chapter title "I hate everything about you" is named after a song by Three Days Grace.

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The slap resonated harshly through the nursery, Harry´s handprint a blazing red on Draco´s soft white skin. The Slytherin´s eyes widened in surprise before they narrowed in anger; a glistening akin to hatred which Harry detected in those beloved silver orbs made him shudder. His own action had put Harry in a state of shock and shame which froze his very being.

"We are through, Potter!" A wave of terror washed over Harry at the blonde´s hissed words. He could only stare at Draco, as the boy left the room with a last devastating cold glare directed at Harry.

"Draco, I´m sorry, I didn´t mean it, please, come back, I love you!" Harry whispered, sinking to the ground, littered with pieces of the destroyed cradle, his hands closing around the splintered wood as he broke down crying.

oooooo Chapter 14 oooooo

I hate everything about you

Every time we lie awake
After every hit we take
Every feeling that I get
But I haven't missed you yet

Every roommate kept awake
By every sigh and scream we make
All the feelings that I get
But I still don't miss you yet
Only when I stop to think about it

I hate everything about you
Why do I love you
You hate everything about me
Why do you love me

I hate
You hate
I hate
You love me

Harry miserably poked and stabbed his scrambled eggs, heaving another suffering sigh, as he looked over to the Slytherin table and to the door again. Draco´s absence hurt as if somebody had cut out a piece of his heart, without using anaesthetics, mind you.

"It´s dead already, you can eat it!" Hermione remarked, her concerned gaze betraying the playful tone of her words.

"Huh?" Harry asked ingeniously, withdrawing his attention with difficulty from observing the room to look at Hermione and finally at his mutilated food. "Oh!"

"What´s up with you, Harry? You look as if you didn´t sleep the whole night long. Couldn´t satisfy the insatiable Slyth?" Ron forced out between bacon and a breadroll.

"What?" Harry asked, distracted, concentrating on a conversation with his mates obviously not his forte at the moment, before he sighed again, which caused Ron and Seamus to snicker and exchange meaningful glances. At this point Hermione dropped her fork onto her plate and turned to face her best friend.

"You are not eating, you are staring the whole time at the Slytherin table and the door and this was for sure at least your twentieth sigh since the start of this breakfast. Would you care to tell us what is troubling you?" the brown-haired witch asked, her hand coming to rest on Harry´s right forearm to stop his attempt at violating his eggs even further. "Is anything wrong with Draco?"

"No...yes...gods!" Harry buried his face in his hands. "I slapped him and he broke up with me."

His friends were gaping incredulously at him, as Harry´s exclamation had been nothing but short of a shock to them. Hermione did not even rebuke Ron for displaying thoroughly munched food in his open mouth. There were tears in his eyes when Harry dropped his hands onto the table again, picking up his fork to resume his assault on the food which had the audacity to lie on his plate.

"You slapped the git?" Ron asked bewildered, "Blimey, what happened that made you do such a thing?"

"He told me that I´m not the father of his child." Harry whined, hurt written all over his face.

"Okay?" the redhead drew out the word while his eyebrows almost met his hair-line in a questioning glance.

"He followed me, using my Cloak, and when he saw the nursery he blew up the cradle." Hermione gasped in surprise at this outrage, as she was the one who had helped Harry to choose the beautiful baby bed, while Seamus muttered "Gobshite!"

"Is he mad now? What you have paid for the cradle could have bought me tickets for every quidditch game for a whole year! This pregnancy is for sure making the twit batty! No wonder you slapped him!"

"I hit him because he said I´ll never be the baby´s father." Harry said unhappily. Hermione looked utterly perplexed.

"I guess I´m missing something there. There seems to be more behind this and I just can´t see it!" she finally said, her brows knitting in thought. "Tell me exactly what happened!"

"Nothing much. He entered, looked around, his face twisting into all kinds of strange expressions, then he just blew the cradle up with a Reducto. I shouted at him and he answered that I was delusional and that I would never be the father of the baby. And he called me Potter! I don´t know what came over me, but when he said that we would never be a family I just slapped him. The moment I realised what I´ve done it was too late. I must have hit him really hard because he had a red imprint of my hand on his face. He was shocked first but then...he...he told me that we are...through." Harry whispered, shuddering in sorrow. "I want him back, Mione!"

"I bet he´s suffering just like you now and you would be ready to apologise to him I´m sure." Harry nodded ruefully. "Maybe you should just go and talk to him, Harry!"

A small smile lit up Harry´s face as he thanked Hermione and hurriedly left the Great Hall to search for Draco. He didn´t have to go far as the blond Slytherin just climbed the stairs to the Entrance Hall, his trunk floating behind him. Harry stopped dead in front of the other boy, highly ashamed of himself when he saw the conspicious bruise above the Slytherin´s right cheekbone.

"Gods, Draco, I´m sorry!" Harry whispered. His fingers reached out to touch the bruise marring the pale skin, but Draco turned his face away to avoid the contact. Harry reluctantly let his hand drop to his side, searching for words to break the awkward silence.

"Where are you going to with your trunk?" Harry asked, finally realizing the fact that the Slytherin was not supposed to have his trunk floating behind him. The blonde sniffed haughtily.

"I´m obviously going to the manor to spend the holidays with my mother. Can I pass now, Potter?" Draco said impatiently, the small flinch on Harry´s face satisfying him to no end. He had cried the whole night long and felt wretched and wanted the bastard in front of him to feel the same way, hurt Harry the same way he had been hurt by him.

"Can I talk to you, Draco? Please!" Harry pleaded, a pained expression flitting over his face. "I don´t want you to go!"

"You can go to hell for all I care!" Draco spat, while he cringed inside at the sight of Harry´s tearfilled eyes. He´d be damned if he would let the hero of the wizarding world go unpunished for hitting him, the Malfoy heir. His hurt pride had caused him to use such harsh words, the fear that Harry might love the baby more than him by now, not even caring that Draco obviously hated it, living in his fantasy of them becoming a lovely, perfect family. He wanted to smash in the cretin´s nose, but what he really wanted was to throw his arms around Harry and run his hands through that lovely unruly hair and kiss him and melt into him...

In reality he pushed Harry out of the way, a scowl securely set on his face. The Slytherin didn´t dare to look back to see the despair in those soulful green eyes, maybe even a tear rolling down a tanned cheek, as he knew he wouldn´t be able to leave if he faced the pain he had caused. He could feel his resolve to leave Harry already waning and increased the speed of his steps, trying to ignore the burning in his eyes. He really hated Gryffindors!

oooooooooooooooooooo

Draco felt wretched. Even the people in the book he was just reading where in love and had steaming hot sex, while his best friend was his right hand, the act in itself becoming decidedly difficult with the now rapidly growing bulge in the way. His face had started to fill out, like the rest of his body, and he looked rosy and plump, just like the Weasley woman, not like the Malfoy heir he was. A despisable look, which he soon after his discovery decided to battle with a hunger strike.

There was no place in his body which didn´t seem to give him problems lately. To be seized with cramps in his lower legs in the middle of the night was not to his liking; his stomach played up to no end, the details he tried to suppress in his memory, and his energy had depleted completely. His only entertainment these days was to cuss at the only house-elf left in the Malfoy´s service and throw any of those ugly little Dresden china figurines his mother adored and collected with great relish after the frightened creature.

"Master Draco is expected in the study. Bitsy shall tell Master Draco." the house-elf´s ears shook pathetically in fear before it disapparated with an "Eep" and a pop mere split-seconds before a shepherdess with rosy cheeks smashed against the wall behind where Bitsy had stood. Draco huffed in annoyance at not having hit the target once again, the house-elf getting better at escaping his attempts by the hour, and heaved himself up from his comfortable bed, placing the romantic novel he had gotten as a Christmas present from Pansy face down on the comforter.

He wondered who might have called for him this late, as his mother usually ignored him nowadays, trying to avoid his accusing scowl and her own remorse, and since his father´s imprisonment there was no influx of visitors to the Malfoy Manor. The parties and dinner invitations had stopped together with the easy life; the loss of his father´s ministry wages and the tremendous fine having been added to the sentence were cruelly cutting their financial means.

Christmas had been a sad affair this year without the usual party, and his new Weasley look, sans the revolting hair colour of course, was going with the presents under the puny Christmas tree. The tree was anyway just a fancy thing, as the Malfoy´s were no Christians of course, but his mother was unperturbed in her insistence to ruin their drawing-room with Muggle decoration.

Draco was surprised to find his uncle and his uncle´s brother in his father´s study, Rodolphus and Rastaban Lestrange. Both men were tall, dark and imposing, yet the brothers looked nothing like the ruthless hardcore Death Eaters they really were. Both grinned in greeting at him, their eyes immediately flitting to the bulge clearly visibly now. Draco blushed faintly at their scrutinizing looks.

"I trust everything is well with you, Draco?" his uncle asked in his deep, rumbling voice, which Draco answered with a small nod. "Our Lord wants to see you tonight."

"I see." Draco said, trying to mask the sudden apprehension he felt.

He followed the two taller men to the Apparation Hall, a specially warded room close to the Entrance Hall, the only place on the Malfoy estate which allowed apparation. Rastaban wrapped his strong tanned hand around Draco´s arm before they were soaked into a nauseating swirling, tearing them for a split second through darkness and light filled with whirling colours before the compression their bodies suffered eased up and solid ground under their feet welcomed them. They were in a dark and dank room; torches lining the walls allowed Draco to see the water running in small rivulets down the slightly mossy stonemurals.

"Our Lord is already waiting! Come in, hurry!" a haggard and humped man resembling a rodent whined, wringing his hands, one curiously enough made of silver, one of flesh.

They entered a very large room, looking like a cave with its uneven walls hewn out of solid stone, which was also illuminated by flickering flames in red and blue shades. Crimson eyes were shining in the dim light from under a dark hood, horribly confirming Draco´s assumption that the Dark Lord´s were resembling demonic eyes. A murmur went through the assembled Death Eaters, hooded heads bowing to their neighbour´s to spread the message of their arrival.

"Draco, come to me!" a low, hissing voice called out to him.

A white hand beckoned him closer until he came to stand before the Dark Lord, shivering because of the chill which had settled in his bones. A wave of Lord Voldemort´s hand over his body filled him with a sense of foreboding before cold air caressed his suddenly naked skin. Draco looked down in embarrassment at the bareness of his youthful limbs, painfully aware of eyes coming to rest on the prominent rounding where four months ago a flat and muscled belly had been.

A lipless mouth twisted into an entranced smile while spidery fingers ghosted over his skin. Draco had to grit his teeth to suppress an outcry of loathing as he struggled not to move away from the terrifying touch. "Perfect." A black-clad body moved around him, coming to rest against his bare back. "Beautiful." A chilling hand ran along his side while the other still lay on his rounded middle. "Breathtaking." Draco felt a faint flutter in his womb right beneath the Dark Lord´s hand, wondering what this sensation meant.

"My heir." Lord Voldemort whispered, possessively caressing the fleshy mound. "I can feel him. He calls to me. Strong and powerful."

Before he could stop himself Draco hissed in needful pain when cruel fingers tweaked his nipples. They had become extremely sensitive during the last weeks and the sensation shot through his body, to all the right places. He started to pant and closed his eyes in embarrassment when the Dark Lord´s hand moved over his crotch, causing him to blush scarlet. He cursed the overprotective Gryffindor for having denied him pleasure more often than not, cursed the fact that his body was betraying his need by reacting to the unwanted touch.

"It seems your body craves attention. Could the Potter boy not sate you?" the Dark Lord taunted him, his breath sending cold shivers up and down Draco´s spine as he whispered into his ear. Draco sincerely hoped that it had been a rhetorical question. His humiliation was already overwhelming, the snickers and whispers of the Death Eaters surrounding them almost deafening him.

"I want to take you, Draco... on all fours... like the bitch you are!" To his mortification Draco felt his member twitch with excitement at the Dark Lord´s exclamation while his body tensed in alarm. It took some seconds before he could remember how to breath again. "NOW!"

He started at the shout so close to his right ear, unable to follow the order. To be taken again by this monster, to be humiliated beyond redemption in front of all Death Eaters was not something he could comply to.

"Please, my Lord, I can´t! I..." Draco whispered in despair, his voice finally failing him as his throat closed and tears threatened to betray the shame he felt.

With an almost imperceptible nod the Dark Lord called two Death Eaters into the circle who immediately forced the yelping boy onto his knees. A withered hand knitted into his hair and pushed his head forward until his hands searched for leverage on the cold stone beneath him. The painful grip turned into a caress, long fingers running through his hair, continuing their trail down his neck and back. He shivered, his heart racing, his breath puffing in the cold cave, while he wished for nothing else than to escape this nightmare.

"Severus, the lubricant!" the cold voice hissed above him. Draco´s breath hitched as he realised that the man in Death Eater robes stepping towards his Lord and handing him a phial was nobody else than his own Head of House. At that moment he wished for death. For the one man he respected like a father to witness something as degrading as this. Draco couldn´t bear it any longer and burst out into tears when he felt a searching pressure against his entrance.

There was no preparation for him to ease the pain, no pity for his strangled screams and painfilled groans, no mercy for his soul when his member started to fill out, his body betraying him in the worst possible way as it reacted to the well-known intrusion which triggered his libido. He sobbed in misery at the pleasure he felt, the terror when he felt himself pushing back against the harsh thrusts, lust tainting his groans.

He hated Harry for having shown him the ecstasy somebody could experience in the act and for having denied him the fulfillment of his needs during the last week before Draco went home for Christmas, hated himself for loosing control and relishing the violation, hated the demon grunting on top of him, hated the ruthless men watching his downfall, hated Snape and his relatives for not helping him.

Draco held his breath and grit his teeth when the manifestation of him enjoying the vicious mating splattered onto the dark stone beneath him. He stayed on all fours, head hanging down, panting in abject misery, long after the Dark Lord had pulled out of him. The remnants of the putrid seed seeped out of him, the wet traces feeling like acid on his trembling form.

"Get up, Draco!" his uncle said in a low and urgent voice, pulling him up off the cold floor.

Draco staggered to his feet, uncaring of the stares and sneers he received, the throbbing in his backside the only information his brain could process. A black robe was placed around his shoulders and he was led out of the room. The apparition was just like a dream, as were the minutes until he became aware of sitting in hot water, desparately scratching his white skin with a soft washcloth until it was crimson streaked, hot tears rolling down his face, unnoticed. The tears soon turned into sobs, then into loud wails as his arms wound around his midsection, mindless accusations and questions flowing from his lips as he rocked back and forth in the slowly cooling down water.

"What have I done?" His chest heaved with mighty sobs. "Harry! Gods, please, I need him!"

He couldn´t take this pain any longer. How stupid had he been to break up with Harry, how utterly laughable his attempt at prooving that he didn´t need the Gryffindor, didn´t love him. His life was a living hell! Blaise, his best friend since childhood days, the Dark Lord, his own father´s Lord, they had hurt him and he had been unable to stop them; not even Harry had been able to keep all this pain from him. The repeated violation, something he had been so sure of never having to endure again, something he never ever wanted to endure again, had finally shown him that his life would never change. His dreams of a serene and happy life with Harry had been just that, a dream.

Merlin, Harry! He would despise him now for destroying that damned cradle, for retreating back into his old Slytherin behaviour, for enjoying the Dark Lord´s tainted ministrations. There was no way that Harry would ever want him back again, forgive him for how Draco had hurt and betrayed him. He was too weak to stand all this, no way out for him, no hope left. His hope had been Harry and he had been careless enough to loose him, too proud to accept an apology. He giggled exasperated at his own stupidity, the laughter soon merging into howls of anguish.

It could have been minutes or hours until he found the strength to get out off the cold water. He stepped in front of the large mirror over the marble sink in his private bathroom and raised tired eyes to meet the stranger´s dead gaze in the mirror. The boy in the mirror was deathly pale, his eyes puffy from crying and his body seized by faint tremors. His eyes came to rest on the prominent bulge, creating a caricature of a sixteen years old pure blood boy.

"WHY?" the tortured cry tore from his lips like the wail of a banshee.

The pale face twisted into a mask of despair as his shaking hand grabbed a heavy leaded crystal bowl with scented soap in it and smashed it into the mirror. There was a weird kind of satisfaction welling up inside him as he stared at his shattered image, the destruction of the pale boy he had seen in the mirror an epiphany, the shards glittering in the candlelight like a deity´s tears shed over his end.

Trembling fingers caressed the sharp edges, the fleeting touch biting into his unblemished skin. His choice was made and a crimson stained shard was set aside. Hands smeared with blood wrenched open an antique cabinet and placed eight phials filled with pain relieving potion on the red-veined black marble beside the broken piece of glass.

"I´m sorry, Harry! I love you!" he whispered before he removed the stopper from the first phial and brought it to his lips.

oooooooooooooooooooo

Harry was tossing and turning in his bed in Gryffindor Tower, cold sweat soaking through his shirt. The other beds in the dormitory were abandoned, and nobody heard his moaning and pleading; nobody saw his fearful grimace as he was locked in a terrifying dream.

"No...please...don´t do this...please...love you...don´t leave me"

His mind was filled with images of blood and pain, tears on white skin and his whispered name. Silver trails were glistening on his face in the cold moonlight, his head tossing from side to side until terrified green eyes snapped open and the black-haired youth sat up with a panicked cry.

"Draco!"

The darkness around him seemed to have seeped into his heart, his soul blinded with fear for the one he loved as he felt a place in his heart slowly going numb.

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You may curse me for leaving you with a most cruel cliffie again! Guess you were bad and deserved it! Hehehe!

Or is it just me being evil?

Thanks for your many reviews for the last chappie in reversed order! Questions I answered through e-mail; hope I missed none!

Seraphwalker

AP (I would have contacted you if only..! please inform me when I reached the point of redemption!;-D)

Tamika DanarDraco

Kat Davi

Kiyori6290

SouriMaxwellYuy068

Cyborg Death Eater

Fexx

shiroyuki004

VampiricSheWolf

Anonymous (thanks for the song! another one, maestro! presto!)

findingEMO

GreenEyedCatDragon

rshortyr

Sinful Ice

disturbedxandxconfused (thanks for defending me! ;-D)

blueeyedchibi

urbeautifulsunshine

Shania Maxwell

spirit element

Ranma064

BohemianSnitch

slythchickASD

Linker27(always the first!)

Now I would like to explain some things, because there were some misunderstandings:

Draco broke up with Harry because he had hit him and not because of the nursery or what Harry had said!

This is a story written for entertainment and everybody is somehow OOC! I try to stick to facts as much as possible, but it is still fanfiction only.

Obviously I am an amateur and not a professional writer, but if you think me a professional writer at some point, thankies! I myself believe that there are many writers on this site who are much better than I and it is a damn shame that those are not writing for a living. Unfortunately English is not my mothertongue and I am annoyed on myself for lacking some skills of expression and grammar in that language. Just you wait until I start writing in German! Ahem, yes, maybe you wouldn´t enjoy that much.

I saw enough pregnant women in my life, and they all became more emotional. Yes, Draco is a whiny brat and emotional and that is how I see him also in the books - Draco has a big mouth but he is always a coward. The pride or self-confidence or determination in book 6 he developed because of his special mission and there he was even crying (several times, implied) when things didn´t go his way and let himself be pushed around by stronger ones! The situation in my story is completely different, as he didn´t get an ego-boost but was degraded instead from the beginning!

I have no idea if Harry would call his love "darling" or not, because Rowling´s Harry has hardly any love life worth a description! If you asked me, he needs to come out of the closet! Hehe!

Yes, his revenge was completely OOC (until now, because who knows how he will turn out in book 7 to be able to kill Voldie, and maybe he was influenced through his scar to do evil). I am very aware of that fact; it was not what I wanted to write originally. If that is a major back draw for many of you, send me a pm and I will re-write the revenge on Blaise in a softer form.

I can never write in a way that would satisfy everybody´s taste and expectations, sorry! Rowling herself can´t do that or she would have made Draco the main character to make me happy! Some things I write are random, just as in Rowlings books, but I write only what I can reason! If you asked my beta you would know that I don´t just write anything without thinking and asking others if that would make sense that way.

Again, we all here on this site are writing and reading for entertainment, everybody has different skills and taste and that´s what´s making this site so great.

Of those people who want to flame I wish three things:

1. give me the possibility to reply(I would have liked to ask if my writing skills have fallen because of what I make my characters say)

2. read the story carefully, because it doesn´t make much sense to complain about some misunderstood details

3. it is not necessary to say "I hate flames" or "I never flame, but my only purpose is to scold writers" if you want to flame, just do it

I welcome every criticism and I read especially those reviews several times and think about what disturbed some readers. I am not annoyed or hurt because of criticism, though I prefer praises of course! I can´t promise to change everything to everybody´s liking but I will take all criticism in whichever form into consideration! Thanks!