AN: Hey all. Aren't I (moderately) wonderful? I didn't take nearly as long to update this time. And it shouldn't take all that long to get the next chapter out either. I just have to decide what order I want all my half-written scenes in.

Okay, two things. Well, really only one. This chapter is dedicated to my good friend Ellidyay, because I borrowed the letter idea from her wonderful story Father of Mine (read it. Go on, you know you want to!) Yes, and she also read over this chapter (well parts of it) first, so the credit goes to her for that to...

Anyway I'd like to thank my reviewers: Lucied, wintermoon2, Corgi1, DARKMEW13, Shania Maxwell, npretrenko, rayvern, Layce74, Eve11, Lillie chan, InKy, anime_fan, pixyfairy120, VtE, Leah, Harmoni, Baby sphinx, crissy, Manda Lee 04, Maximum Poofy-Queen of AU, Rose Creighton, Magami, Crow21681, chaotic kaat, yumi-no-baka, Iniysa, anne may.

Mikee: Hey Mikee. I know I promised you a chapter of 'Time Warp', but I've had writer's block forever. I think I'm going to have to finish this story first and then move on to my others. But thank you so much for reviewing...

Alyce: *glomps* Eh. I never really had a reason for disappearing. But I'm pretty sure it had something to do with baybels. *G* Hee, I don't exactly have a soft spot for Jason either... *damns him to helll* But he's rather indispensable. Oh, and I will be getting around to writing back... I swear I will. I have to write to Cy too...

Ayame: I'm so sorry. I don't have an excuse at all to offer you. And you have every right to squash me like that. I'll try to be online, more often. *grins*

venus4280: Wow. Thank you for the brilliant review. I kind of don't know what to say. I hate rushing into stories head long, and what's the point of writing an mpreg if you're not going to dwell on the pregnancy? So yeah, *shrugs*... And I just love Herm/Draco. I think they're cute together. I'm glad you liked the way I mixed things up with Harry's friends...

Chapter Seven:

~To J. Phillips,

Dear Jason,

Jason,

It wasn't my idea to write to you. If I had it my way, I'd never communicate with you again – even if I don't intend to send this letter. But Hermione just wouldn't leave me alone. She thinks if I write down how I'm feeling – how it felt when you rejected me and my *our* baby – I'll start to feel better. She thinks I'll get over you. Ha. Like that'll ever happen.

I suppose it's my fault, really. I shouldn't have let her see how down I've been recently. I should have hidden it better. Damn hormones. But it's just so hard, you know? She's got Draco, and Ron's got Blaise. Sure, there's Dean, but that's not the same. He's not...you. He's not you, and that just makes it all different.

My morning sickness has finally stopped. Madam Pomfery – that's the mediwitch that's taking care of me – said that it's about time. She's been worried that I haven't been eating enough, not getting all the right vitamins and that. She says now that my appetite's back, my body'll start telling me what I need to eat to get the right minerals and stuff. Things like brussel sprouts (you know how much I hate the things) and kidney pie. Ron can't wait to see what strange cravings I come up with.

I'm really starting to show now. Even with my robes on. Seamus (one of my roommates) keeps teasing me about putting on weight. I think Neville suspects something, though. He hasn't said anything, but I see him watching me all the time. He caught me vomiting that first morning back at school. And he was there the first time the baby moved.

It was the most amazing thing, Jason! You should have been...

He – I haven't found out the gender yet, but I can't bear to call my baby 'it' – anyway, he just started kicking last week. And I haven't had more than an hour's peace since. I think I'll teach him to play football when he's born. With a kick like that, he could play for Man U. If he was muggle, that is. Maybe I'll get the Weasley twins (you remember me telling you about my best friend Ron? They're his brothers) to teach him to play beater. You remember how I told you about the game Quidditch..?

Aunt Molly (Ron's mum) is already making baby gowns. Since we don't know the gender yet, they're all red and gold. She wanted me to come and live at The Burrow (that's their house) for the summer, or as long as I needed, until I could find a place for me and the baby. Professor Dumbledore vetoed that idea though. He said that while Voldemort is still alive, it would be safer for us to stay at Hogwarts.

They've started converting an apartment near the hospital wing for me. They're all helping: Ron, Hermione, Dean, Draco, Blaise. Even Remus Lupin, one of my dad's friends, has done his bit. He made a cradle. Not that I've seen it yet. They won't let me near the place. It's meant to be a sort of baby-shower gift.

I told my godfather, Sirius, on Halloween. He took it so much better than I thought he would. Well, at least until I told him that we wouldn't be getting married. Huh. Can you believe that? He thought we should get married. I soon convinced him of the idiocy of that idea. But just be grateful you don't ever have to meet him. I think it's safe to say that you're almost at the top of his most hated people list. Right up there with Snape and Voldemort.

Everyone's been amazingly supportive. Only four of the teachers know so far: the Heads of House. Luckily, that covers the two most dangerous classes: Transfiguration and Potions. Professor McGonagall (she's the Transfig. Professor and my Head of House) makes sure I'm always paired with Hermione when we have to do any praticals. Professor Flitwick (the Charms teacher) taught me some handy little charms to hide my growing belly later on. I'll start using them in a week or two, but Madam Pomfery says its best to use as little magic on my body as possible.

Professor Snape (the Potions Master – he *hates* me) has been really weird. Almost... nice. I mean, I thought for sure he'd be taunting me all the time about getting pregnant while I was still in school, and no father in sight. But he hasn't. And I see him watching me all the time. Of course, I still constantly get into trouble in his classes, but I'm pretty sure that at least some of the time, it's just an excuse to get me out of the way when the class is making a potion that could be dangerous for my baby. He keeps on sending me to stocktake his supplies, or tidy his papers...

Yes, everyone's been good to me, really. Especially me friends. Hermione, naturally, has become something of an expert on male pregnancies. Blaise is really supportive, and Ron and Draco are really very sweet. And Dean... well, I guess you could say that Dean's taken your place. He's my emotional support. The others won't come near me when I'm in a crying fit (which I thankfully don't get very often) but Dean's always there for me....

I just hope there's no limit on how many godparents one baby can have. I don't think I could choose between those five. If it wasn't for them, I don't think I would have made it this far without breaking down.

But I still can't help wondering why it is that I have to rely on *them* for everything. It isn't Dean that should be holding me and telling me that everything will be okay. Ron and Draco shouldn't have to put up with me cursing all males. Hermione shouldn't have been the one that mopped my brow when I forgot to take the anti-nausea potion. Blaise shouldn't have been the first one to feel my baby move.

But they're all I have. And it's all you fault. You should have been the one doing all that for me; it should have been you with your hands on my stomach when he moved for the first time. You should be the one making lists of names, not Ron and Draco and Dean. *You* should be here for me, you fucking bastard. It's your fault I'm pregnant.

Why am I even writing this? It's nothing you want to hear. It's nothing you're *going* hear. It's not even something you deserve to hear. You don't deserve to know how I'm doing, and how my pregnancy is progressing. You forfeited all rights when you suggested I 'terminate' my baby, didn't you, you base-born son-of-a-bitch.

Not that you care anyway. You don't care that for days after you rejected us, I cried myself to sleep every night, and had to convince myself to get up in the morning. You don't care that I still do, sometimes. It won't matter at all to you when my baby is born, will it? I was just a fuck to you, wasn't I. Just some summer fun who you'd forget about a month later. I bet you'll grow up into a nice *straight* boy, marry a pretty little wife, have two kids and that white picket fence. You won't ever want to remember that you have a *first-born* out there who never did anything to make you reject him but be born. I'll never forgive you for abandoning us. Never. Not matter what your reasons.

But you know the *worst thing of all*? The thing that keeps me up at night? The thing that makes me cry myself to sleep? Despite it all, despite you suggesting I murder my child, despite you dumping me. In spite of the fact that I *hate* you... I still love you.

I'm even starting to think what Ron said before Blaise thumped him might be true: that a wizard only ever falls in love once. I guess it was just my misfortune that I fell in love with you. I'll never forgive myself for that. I'll never forgive myself for not being able to give my child the family I so desperately wanted when I was a kid.

Fuck, you've made me cry again, you bastard.

Love,

Harry James Potter~

Harry and Hermione were sitting in the common room on Christmas Eve's day when the owl arrived. It swooped into the room and perched on the arm of Harry's chair. It was a school bird, identifiable by the odd blue-grey of its plumage and the tag around its left leg. When Hermione saw it, she paled dramatically, but before Harry could ask her what was wrong, the bird began to squawk demandingly. To preserve his eardrums, Harry quickly divested it of it's burden and then watched as the owl launched itself into the air and swept out.

Momentarily forgetting Hermione, Harry turned his attention to the parcel the owl had delivered. It was a package roughly half the size of one of the couch's throw cushions, and wrapped in rather non-descript brown paper and string. Tucked under the knot in the string was an envelope addressed simply to: "Harry Potter, c/o Hogwarts School"

Harry wiggled the letter loose, and flipped it over. As there was no return address on the back, Harry slit the envelope open and removed the letter within. He skipped directly to the name at the end of the letter, and the sign-off that he read there made him freeze.

"Sincerest wishes, Jason M. Phillips..." slowly Harry raised his eyes and stared at his best friend on the couch opposite him. "Hermione, what did you do?" he whispered.

Hermione flushed, but didn't drop her eyes, "I'm sorry, Harry. I thought he should know. I never expected him to write back."

Harry was distantly aware that the letter in his hands was shaking. Not prepared to read it yet, he hastily set it aside and turned instead to the parcel that had accompanied it. Slowly, he picked apart the knot and unraveled the string that had been used to secure it. Just as slowly, he folded back the paper to reveal the contents.

What he saw there wasn't what he had been expecting. He'd thought maybe Jason was returning some article of clothing Harry had forgotten, or, worse, Jason was giving back the sweater Harry had bought him for his birthday. Certainly no this. Harry lifted the item from the brown paper. It was perhaps a metre square and cut of soft, warm green material, etched with tiny silver lightening bolts. It was a baby blanket.

Harry's eyes stung and a cold, wet ribbon snaked its way down his cheek. Harry didn't even bother to wipe away the tears, or curse his disrupted hormones. He leapt to his feet, tumbling both the letter and the blanket to the floor, and turned for the stairs to the dormitories.

Behind him, Hermione called out, "Harry, I –", but Harry just shook his head and disappeared up the stairs.

Hermione was left sitting on the couch, regretting her decision to send that letter to Jason. She had convinced Harry to write, and once he was done, it had been clear he felt the lighter for it. Hating Jason for what he had done to her best friend, she had thought the other boy deserved to know how Harry felt. She'd sent the letter, never expecting Harry to get a reply.

Tears stung at Hermione's eyes too as she slowly bent to retrieve the blanket. She folded it neatly, and picked up the letter as well.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't know he could still hurt you."

Slowly, she climbed the stairs to the boys' dorms and, at the closed door to the seventh years' room, she paused. She set down her burden down, knowing Harry would find it when he was ready to emerge. Resting a hand briefly on the door, she listened to the muffled sobs a moment before turning away. "I'm so sorry, Harry. But he didn't deserve you."

~Dear Harry,

I'm not asking for forgiveness; I know I don't deserve it. And I'm not going to try to excuse my actions either. I don't think they need excusing. But I do believe I owe you an explanation.

I never meant to hurt you, Harry. Nor did I mean to lead you to believe that our relationship could ever be more than a summer 'fling'. I wasn't ready to commit to something long term. I'm not sure I'll ever reach that stage. We came at that relationship with two very different ideas of where it was going.

When you looked at me with your eyes so full of hope, and told me you were pregnant, I panicked. I wasn't ready to be a father. I'm not even the parenting type. Surely you must have realized that?

Our situation was just untenable. You said it yourself: you're the Boy Who Lived. You're famous in the wizarding world. I couldn't have fitted into that life, even if I had wanted to. Those people surely wouldn't stand to see their hero stuck with someone like me for life.

I am truly glad that you and the baby are doing well, and that you have all you friends to support you. I could never forget you. As cold as this comfort may be, please believe when I say that, in my own way, I love you. But for us to be together, even without the baby, would be impossible. There are reasons you don't... reasons I don't believe you'd understand.

Sincerest wishes,

Jason M. Phillips~