TITLE: Forever Indebted
AUTHOR: Cosmic
AUTHOR'S JOURNAL: www. livejournal. com/ users/ bananacosmic
RATING: R (bad language, serious issues)
STATUS: Complete
CATEGORIES: Mpreg
PAIRINGS: No main pairing. Mentioned pairings: HG/RW
CHARACTERS: Harry, Hermione, Ron, Severus
WARNINGS: Mpreg. Attempted suicide. Dark-fic. Evil!Snape.
SPOILERS: No.
SUMMARY: Harry owes Snape a number of life debts and now Snape is going to collect.
AUTHOR'S NOTES 1: This story is an entry in Misconceptions: Harry Potter Mpreg Fuh-Q-Fest Wave 4 (http/ hpmpregfqf. design-of-decadence. net/
Challenges: - Challenge 49. Harry owes Snape a number of life debts. The demanded payment? One baby per life debt. The story must include this sentence: "A life for a life Potter, you owe me and I intend to collect." Submitted by: Starzy
Pairing(s): None
Holiday(s) Birthday
AUTHOR'S NOTES 2: This fic is quite a bit darker than all my other mpregs. Although I write the fics, I always find it highly doubtful that Harry, while still young, would be all that happy about an unplanned pregnancy. An unhappy pregnant person is something I've wanted to write for a while, so that's what this fic deals with. It has a very, very nasty!Snape.
BETA: Jen (thank you always!)
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Forever Indebted
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Part Two
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The morning sickness only got worse as the weeks passed. The urge to pee more often also made itself known; Harry had to take quite a few breaks during work as his bladder made itself known again.
Hermione gave him a book on pregnancy.
"So that you know what to expect," she said.
Before the week was over, it had already been thumbed through quite a few times. Despite not wanting the child growing inside of him, Harry couldn't help but care. He still didn't want the baby to be hurt by what he did – quitting alcohol was proof of that – and he checked his symptoms carefully to make sure that it wasn't unusual. Apparently, the things he was experiencing were all completely normal.
As another week passed, Harry noticed his nipples becoming darker and his chest seemed to swell. He still didn't have female breasts but if they grew just a little bit more, his figure would definitely be able to be mistaken for a woman's. Harry hid the changes beneath large robes and no one said anything. Save for Hermione and Ron, of course.
"My lord, you've got boobs," Ron said ineloquently as he and Hermione Apparated to Harry one afternoon for dinner.
Harry blushed beet-red and Hermione slapped him upside the head. "What have I said about thinking before you talk?"
"Sorry, Harry," said Ron, "I just—"
"I— I know," Harry said, deeply embarrassed. "I— have boobs."
He pulled on a robe to hide his new assets and Ron did his best not to stare. Hermione hugged him and told him not to mind Ron; he was just being an idiot.
"An idiot perhaps," Harry said softly, "but an honest one."
Eleven weeks pregnant, Harry started noticing his waistline disappearing. His rippled stomach was slowly fading away, being replaced by a soft curve. Beneath layers of robes no one was able to tell, but Harry knew and that was more than enough.
He didn't sleep much, though his body was more tired than it had ever been before. The book said it was normal; his body's workload had increased and it was only natural that he be tired. Still, as soon as Harry tried to lay down to sleep, his mind went into overdrive as he thought about the baby, Snape, the birth and giving the child away never to see him or her again. It made him sick.
As his stomach slowly grew, Harry noticed that his feelings for the little life within him could not be stopped. There was no way he could go through the next seven months without feeling anything, without caring at all. He still couldn't say that he loved the baby, but— he couldn't ignore it either. In the dark night, Harry sat with his hands covering his stomach and he talked to the baby about all the fears and worries that haunted him. When he couldn't see himself, he could pretend that he was talking to someone for real. He was painfully reminded that he was alone, though.
"Most of all, I dread leaving you," he whispered and he wished that there was someone there to hold him, to assure him that he would not have to give this baby away.
"You need to tell people," Hermione said to Harry. She was standing in the kitchen, making dinner while Harry was sitting by the table, watching.
"Why?" Harry asked.
"Because it's starting to show, even through those robes," Hermione replied. "Especially when you're sitting down like that."
Harry looked down at himself and understood what Hermione meant. His bloated stomach, now nearly four months pregnant, was pushing the fabric. To a person who didn't know, he might just look fat – but everyone knew that Harry Potter could eat any junk without gaining a pound, so the likelihood of them believing that he was fat was unlikely.
"But— I can't," Harry said. "I just— how am I supposed to explain it?"
"With the truth," Hermione said. "How else?"
"But people will hate him," Harry said.
Hermione stopped cleaning the lettuce. "You hate him, Harry. We all do. People should hate him for what he's doing to you. Even if you don't hate him, he's still not nearly worth lying for. He created this mess and he will have to stand for it."
Harry swallowed, knowing Hermione was right. He didn't want to go public about the pregnancy at all; it was still far too embarrassing. Most of all, he didn't want to be portrayed as the brood mare that he already felt like he was.
"Besides," Hermione continued, "I don't think Snape would be happy if you lied. After all, the child is his heir and I don't think he'll want anyone else claiming him or her."
Harry closed his eyes and tried to breathe calmly. Knowing that the truth would come out sooner or later, whether he wanted it to or not, was not helping. Still, it was probably better for him to do it on his own terms.
The room was deadly silent.
"But— how?" asked Angelina.
A few more sentences from Harry and all hell broke lose in the small room at the Ministry where Harry had decided to make the announcement. Everyone he knew seemed to be there; people from work, people from Hogwarts, his friends and what he considered family. He knew that some would be hurt that he hadn't told them before he told everyone else, but it was for his own sake; he couldn't go through telling the story over and over again.
Mrs. Weasley looked angrier than Harry had ever seen her; her expression bore a striking resemblance to what Hermione had looked like.
"I'm going to castrate that man," Harry heard her promise her husband.
"Won't help, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said quietly. "He did this through a potion."
Mrs. Weasley's expression changed from anger to concern as soon as she heard Harry's voice. "Oh, my darling," she said, hugging him close. "That horrid man, doing this to you – as if you haven't had a hard enough time already."
Harry took a shaky but calming breath. He didn't want to break down here, in front of everyone.
"You could move into the Burrow if you'd like," Mrs. Weasley continued. "That way we can keep check of you and the baby."
Harry smiled slightly. "Thank you Mrs. Weasley, but I'm just fine in my apartment," he said. "Hermione and Ron have been keeping check of me well enough."
"I'm glad to hear that," Mrs. Weasley said, patting Harry's cheek.
Harry left just minutes later, unable to take the stares and the talking any longer.
"I felt the baby today."
Hermione looked as though she wasn't sure whether she was supposed to smile or not and the result was somewhere in between. "How do you feel?" she asked hesitantly.
"It was— weird," Harry said. "Like a fluttering inside. I mean, I think it was the baby at least. Could just have been gases."
Hermione smiled a bit wider. "Did it feel good?"
Harry swallowed, then nodded. "Yes, it did."
Hermione sat down next to him. "How are you feeling, Harry?"
"I'm— I don't know," Harry said, his voice thick. "Sometimes I think I'm fine, that I can just get through all of this without feeling anything for her, for the baby. But then— in the night— I don't sleep, Hermione. I lie awake thinking and I talk to her and I can't help but feel things. I want this baby. I— I don't want to give her away to Snape. I just— I don't think he'll love her. I can't see him being a good father."
Hermione felt bad for a moment that she still hadn't told him of Snape's plans for the child, but there never seemed to be a good reason for her to tell Harry. Harry would find out, eventually.
She hugged him, not knowing what to say or do to make it better. The baby was Snape's; there was nothing they could do about it. She hated the feeling of uselessness.
The newspapers ran series of articles covering Harry's pregnancy. There were articles about male pregnancy, how the baby would grow inside of Harry, the potion that had been used, the issue of whether this was really an okay way to repay a life debt, and so on. A huge debate started on whether Snape – or anyone who had a life debt to be repaid – should be allowed to take the indebted's baby. Harry tried to ignore the articles best he could; he didn't want any more reminders than he already had. It was hard to ignore, though, when every newspaper screamed about it and paparazzi followed him to get pictures of his growing belly. The interest in Harry Potter grew again and the donations to his fund increased.
Harry celebrated Christmas at the Burrow, where everyone asked questions at the same time as they tried to not be pushy. They all, including Hermione and Ron, treated him as though he was made of glass. Harry couldn't find it in him to care either way.
His friends at work were lovely; they made sure he wasn't overexerting himself and that he was comfortable. Harry did his best to appear grateful, when in fact he cared less and less for every day that passed. As the baby inside of him grew, his depression deepened. Though he was constantly tired, he barely slept.
He called in sick one day when he couldn't force himself out of bed. Hermione visited him that afternoon, worry written all over her.
"Harry, what's wrong?" she asked, coming into his bedroom. He hadn't left the bed all day.
Harry looked up at her and she gasped. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. "I can't do this, Hermione."
She sat down on the side of the bed and pulled Harry to her. "What happened, Harry?" she asked softly.
"Nothing," Harry said, letting himself be held. "I just— I couldn't get out of bed. I can't do this."
"Harry," Hermione said, stroking his hair. She had no idea what she could say or do; she didn't think there was anything that would make him feel better.
"I—" Harry started, but stopped and fresh tears fell. "I want to die."
"Harry!" Hermione gasped.
Harry looked away. "I do!" he sobbed. "I don't want this! I don't want this baby. Neither does Snape, he only wants a heir. I can't set a child in this world, not a child that no one wants. I know what that feels like, Hermione! I won't be responsible for another child feeling the exact same way."
Something in the way Harry spoke nagged Hermione. "Harry, what did you do?" she asked.
He wouldn't look at her. The tears dripped down on the bed covers.
"Harry, what did you do?" Hermione repeated again, panic lacing her voice.
Harry looked up at her. His eyes were red from crying, with dark circles of fatigue beneath. His hair was unkempt as ever, but it now also looked unwashed.
"I'm sorry, Hermione," he whispered and sat back to rest against the headboard, closing his eyes as though he was going to sleep.
Making a split-second decision, Hermione grabbed Harry and Apparated to St. Mungo's.
"You brought him in at the last minute, Miss Granger," said the Healer.
"He's okay?" Hermione asked urgently, taking Ron's hand for support. Ron looked pale and drawn.
"I won't say he's all right, but he'll survive for now," the Healer said. "I don't know if the poison will have any after-effects and even if it doesn't, Mr. Potter is obviously very depressed to attempt suicide. I will recommend a Mind Healer for him to go to."
Hermione nodded. "And the baby?"
"Is still alive," the Healer said. "It's not out of the woods yet, however. Although we gave Mr. Potter the antidote, the poison is still in his body and can still affect the baby. We don't know if the antidote is safe for the baby either, but we had no choice but to give Mr. Potter the antidote."
Hermione turned into Ron for comfort. He hugged her, looking shaken.
"Where is he!"
The baritone voice carried through the waiting room. A livid Snape stood in the entrance, looking pale with one hand wrapped around his abdomen.
Rage overtook Hermione and she walked over and slapped him, hard, across the cheek. "You fucking bastard."
Snape looked down at her, his jaw working and a vessel at his temple throbbing with anger. "Where is that little brat? He almost killed my child!"
"Yes!" Hermione screamed, not caring about the scene she was causing. "Because you're killing him!"
"That brat has no right to complain!" Snape yelled. Hermione had never seen him so angry – but then, she had never been so angry either. "Giving me a child is not a high price to pay for my saving his life!"
"Look him in the eye and tell him that, you asshole," Hermione said. "Actually, no, you won't have the chance to say that because you are never ever going to see Harry again. Harry has been going through hell the last five months because of you and you think you have the right to barge in here and be angry? You haven't checked up on him once even though he is carrying your fucking child!"
"He owes me!" Snape yelled back at her.
"He owes you nothing!" Hermione screamed. "If he hadn't killed Voldemort, you would be dead. Sure, he didn't save your life directly – but he sure as hell did indirectly! And he isn't asking for anything in return. Perhaps I should alter that hex I cursed with you and make you pregnant for real! That would be fair, except it would be putting another child to this world that isn't wanted and I will never do that. Unlike you, I have a heart!"
Snape's nostrils flared in anger. "I won't leave here until I see that little brat and tell him the consequences of his actions!"
Hermione didn't so much as flinch. "On the contrary, Snape, you are going to leave here this minute and you are not going to come back. I don't ever want to see you again – if I do, I won't be held responsible for my actions."
"Is that a threat, Granger?" Snape asked.
"Yes," Hermione said. "Now get the fuck out of here!"
"I won't tolerate this—" Snape started.
"Expelliarmus!" Snape flew backwards from the force of the spell. He flew through the open doors. Her voice boomed through the room. "Never ever come back!"
With another spell, Hermione flicked the doors closed.
Ron came up behind her and hugged her tightly. She was still shaking with anger but allowed Ron to comfort her.
Harry didn't wake up until the next day. Hermione and Ron were in the room when he stirred; Hermione started crying when she saw him open his eyes.
"Why, Harry?" she cried, taking his hand and squeezing it tightly.
Harry looked away. His face was still far too pale and the dark circles beneath his eyes were prominent. Save for the bulge of his stomach, Harry looked like a little lost boy. He pulled the covers tighter around himself.
"Why didn't you just let me die?" he asked quietly.
"Harry," Ron said, looking lost. He didn't know how to act or what to say, even though they had been through this before. It wasn't something one got used to. Still, the last time back before Voldemort had been defeated somehow felt easier. There had been no innocent baby involved back then.
"Did the baby survive?" Harry asked softly.
Hermione nodded. "Can't you feel her?"
Harry shook his head. "I—" He stopped and placed a hand on his stomach. A pained expression came over his features and Hermione wondered for a moment if she should call on a Healer. Then Harry ran his hand over his belly and whispered, "Yes, I can."
Hermione swallowed back more tears at the pain in Harry's voice.
"I'm— glad, I think," Harry said, "that she's okay. If I'd made it and she didn't—"
He trailed off. He seemed at a loss – and neither Hermione nor Ron knew how to help.
"Your Healer gave me the name of a Mind Healer," Hermione said softly. "Will you try that?"
Harry swallowed and looked away, but nodded after a few moments. "I can't live like this—" he said, his voice thick, "and the two of you obviously won't let me die."
Hermione wanted to cry, but kept a brave face. She leaned down and hugged Harry carefully. He hugged her back weakly.
Harry stayed at St. Mungo's a fortnight after his attempted suicide. The Healers wanted to make sure that the poison was truly out of his system and that the baby hadn't sustained any permanent damage. They wouldn't know for sure until the baby was born of course and perhaps not even then. The poison could have done something to the baby which would affect him or her a long way down the road.
This sent Harry on enormous guilt trips. He cried himself to sleep at night, though he wasn't always sure if it was because he was sorry that the baby could have been injured, or if it was because he still didn't want to live. Because he didn't. Life seemed endlessly grey without so much as a patch of light.
He started seeing a Mind Healer. It was an older woman, who apparently had a lot of experience with witches and wizards with suicidal thoughts. She coaxed Harry gently into speaking and explained to him that unless he wanted to, he would never get well. She could only do so much.
"But there's nothing here to live for," Harry said to her, his voice quiet in the small room. They were sitting in a chair each, facing each other.
"The baby?" she said. He wondered if she missed all the articles about his pregnancy; they had explained a billion times Snape's plan to take the child as soon as it was born.
"I won't get to keep her," Harry said.
"Her?" asked the lady. "It's a girl?"
Harry looked away, a hand unconsciously moving to his stomach where the baby was doing somersaults, or at least that's what it felt like. "No, I just know that it is," he said. "I just— know."
Silence spread. After nearly a minute's silence, the Healer asked, "If you could keep the child—"
"Don't say that," Harry said. "I won't get to keep her, so there is no use in thinking about it. I— I don't know what I would do if I got to keep her, because I— well, look at me! I can't even take care of myself – how would I be able to care for a baby? So— just don't say it. It's not worth thinking about."
He closed his eyes and shrank back, into himself. He didn't say another word during that hour with the Mind Healer.
Harry was released from the hospital nearly six months pregnant. He Floo'd home after the Healers explained to him that Apparating could be harmful to the baby. Stepping out of the fireplace, he stopped dead in his tracks.
"What are you doing here?"
Snape sneered at him. "I came to check up on you, of course."
Harry looked away, a hand going instinctively to his stomach. "I don't need checking up, least of all from you."
"Right, this is why you nearly killed both yourself and the child two weeks ago," Snape sneered angrily.
Harry's head snapped up. "You know about that?"
"Of course I do," said Snape. "I felt the baby's pain, or do you not remember the hex your friend cursed me with?"
Harry looked away again, taking his small bag of things into the bedroom. "Go away, Snape. I'll give you your baby when it's born." Harry refused to call the baby 'her' so that Snape heard it. It was just— personal somehow.
"It will be hard for you to do that if you're dead," Snape said coldly. "So now I want your word that you will not try any other stupidities."
Harry turned around to face Snape. "My word? And what do I get out of it? Besides, how will you know that I won't just break my word? If I'm dead, you can't really do all that much to me."
"I could take you with me and lock you in a room until you've delivered the six heirs you are indebted to give me," Snape sneered.
"And I could stop eating, in which case both me and the baby would die sooner or later," Harry snarled back. "Now get out of my apartment before I contact the Ministry and have them arrest you for trespassing. The baby might belong to you, but you do not own my life. Get out of here, now!"
Harry's voice had risen to a shout. He felt the baby move inside of him, protesting against his anger. He knew it wasn't good for him or for the baby to get this mad, but the man before him inspired no other feeling.
Snape's eyes were blazing as he realized that this was a fight he would not win. A second later, he Apparated out of the apartment.
Harry sank to his knees, his arms around his stomach. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Snape did what?" Hermione yelled.
Harry winced. "He came to visit me."
"That's what I thought you said," Hermione said. "First the hospital, now this—"
"The hospital?" Harry asked. Feeling tired and uncomfortable standing, he sat down on the couch. Hermione stayed standing, pacing the length of the living room and back again.
"He came to visit you on the day you—" she hesitated, "—were brought in. He came in yelling to see you and I told him that he couldn't and then threw him out of there. I told the Healers he couldn't be allowed to see you."
Harry looked down, but decided that when he looked down, he saw his stomach and he didn't want to see that, so he looked out the window instead. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I— I don't know," Hermione said. "There was so much going on and you were so— down. I just— I wanted to protect you."
Harry was a little irritated, but he couldn't bring himself to be angry. He didn't have the energy. "It would be nice to know these things. He is the— father of the baby."
"Don't call him that," Hermione said. "He has done nothing to deserve that title."
"Neither have I."
Hermione massaged her temples. "Harry—"
"What?" Harry asked. "It's true. I just happen to be carrying her. I don't— love her, or even want her." He sighed and this time he looked down because he wanted to see himself. "I can't feel anything for her, because if I do, then I will commit suicide when she's born and I can't have her."
"If you had the chance, would you keep her?" Hermione asked.
Harry closed his eyes. "I can't think like that, Hermione. It's not going to happen. Snape owns her."
"If you could, would you?" Hermione insisted. "Would you keep her?"
Harry swallowed and shrugged slightly. "I don't know. I don't know how to take care of a baby. Hell, I can't even take care of myself, obviously. But— if I couldn't, I would at least make sure that she was adopted by a good, loving family, perhaps even someplace where I could see her every now and then. Just as long as she is somewhere where people love her, it would be okay. Snape— Snape won't love her. He only wants an heir so that his line doesn't die out." Harry paused for a second. Hermione kept silent, knowing Harry would continue and he did. "I wonder what he'll do with the other five. Perhaps it's just to torture me. Just knowing that he can do it. Who knows, perhaps he won't make me pregnant again as soon as she's born – perhaps he'll wait a while and let me think that he doesn't want another and then he'll slip the potion to me somehow—"
"He wouldn't do that," Hermione said, horrified. "No one could be that heartless."
Harry looked up at her, pain in his eyes. "He's forcing me through this," he said. "I'm not sure he has a heart."
Hermione shook her head in agreement. The more she saw how the man acted, the more the hatred grew inside. She wasn't a person to hate easily and she knew that Snape had done many good things during the war – but there was nothing, absolutely nothing, that would make what he was doing to Harry right.
Ron chose that moment to Apparate into the living room. He looked unusually happy and kissed Hermione's cheek as soon as he saw her.
"Have you heard the news?" he asked, looking from Hermione to Harry.
Hermione frowned. "What news?"
Ron's smile became wider. "Obviously not," he said. He focused on Harry. "The Ministry are going to investigate the possibility of a law against life debts being repaid through having children!"
Harry's mouth fell open and Hermione gasped. "What?" they asked in unison.
"The debate that your pregnancy has caused about whether it's right to let the indebted repay his debt by giving the other a child has resulted in an investigation about whether it should be allowed or not," Ron said. "This way of repaying a life debt hasn't been used in over a century – and now the Ministry are planning to make it completely illegal."
"When will they decide on whether it should be allowed or not?" Harry asked, a lump forming in his throat.
"Well, since it's about the great Harry Potter and you are quite far along as it is, they have decided to speed up the paper work," Ron said. "It's not like it's a law that will affect all that many people anyway. They're going to decide in exactly one month."
"But—" Harry said. "What will happen to the baby?"
"They haven't decided yet," said Ron, "but there are people saying that since the investigation is only brought on because of you, they will form it to be in your best interest. You will be the only one who's going to be affected by the part about the baby – so it's likely that they will decide that you will get to keep the baby, or at least that you will raise it together with the other father."
Harry felt faint. The world was swimming before him as he heard Ron's words. He couldn't allow himself to believe that the law would come to pass – and even if he did, he wasn't sure what to think. Was he supposed to keep the baby? Was he supposed to raise her with Snape? Or would it be best, like Hermione and he had just talked about, to give her up for adoption? Harry still wasn't sure that he would be able to love her like a child should be loved.
And he couldn't quite hope yet either. The law might not come to pass.
Hermione hugged him awkwardly, a smile on her face. "See, this might just work out after all," she said to him.
Ron kept shining like a sun and Harry could almost, almost, allow himself to feel joy.
Enjoy? Review! Part three will be up soon.