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Part 3

There wasn't enough tooth paste in the world to wash the taste of stomach acid from his mouth, but he was trying his hardest anyway. He'd been standing in front of the sink for about fifteen minutes before the others began looking for him.

"Harry?" asked Dean as he entered the lavs, "Are you alright?"

"No. Go away."

Dean walked over to him with a frown chiselled into his face, "Have you been throwing up again?"

Harry merely nodded and continued to scrub his teeth.

"You're going to rub the enamel right off of your teeth."

Harry slammed his toothbrush down on the porcelien sink and glared, "What part of "go away" do you not understand?"

Stepping back, Dean quietly uttered, "I just wanted to help, Harry."

In a split second, Harry's attitude did a complete 180 and he looked like he was on the verge on tears, "Oh, I'm so sorry, Dean. You've all been so wonderful to me and I've treated everyone so horribly. I'm such an awful person; how can you stand to be around me? I don't know why I do this. Why do I treat people this way? What's wrong with me?"

Dean just stared as he leaned forward with his elbows resting on the edge of the sink and buried his face in his hands. He jumped away when Harry abruptly stood up again.

"Sorry about that. What class do we have next?"

"I think if I watch him go through one more episode of mood swings I'll go into a cardiac arrest," mumbled Dean at lunch. Harry, shockingly, was absent. "I can't wait until he has this baby so we won't have to deal with him anymore."

"Then we'll have to deal with a crying baby at every hour of the day," chimed Seamus, causing Dean to groan.

"Will it never end?"

Ron was just staring at his plate with a subdued expression on his face when he suddenly spoke up, "Do you think he's been lying to us?" They cocked their heads at him in confusion, "What if he's been sleeping with Malfoy for months? Years? What if it's not just Malfoy? What if it's tons of guys? What if he's been sleeping with tons of guys we didn't know about during school and over the summer? Harry could be a complete slut and we don't know it..."

The redhead looked up and realized that his friends were all staring at the space behind him. He slowly turned around and swallowed.

"Harry-" he started, but didn't get far enough. Harry ran off before he could finish. He quickly got up to follow, but someone grabbed the sleeve of his robe and stopped him on his way out of the dining hall.

Malfoy glared at him, "I think you've said enough for now. I'll take care of it."

Ron just stood there and watched as the father of his best friend's child walked away. He looked down at the cold stone floor and sighed as his shoulders slumped down in despair. He stopped and began to wonder if Harry was still his best friend or not.

"Stupid Ron," muttered as he sat on the floor next to Moaning Myrtle's toilet. She sat next to him and nodded sympathetically. "Can you believe he called me a slut? I had sex once and that was with Malfoy."

"At least you got the chance to have sex," Myrtle replied, "I died before I ever got the chance. I died as a poor, pathetic virgin."

As Harry began speaking, he did not hear the door open, "You're not pathetic Myrtle. You're not pathetic at all. I'm the pathetic one. I mean, losing my virginity to someone like Malfoy? And then I got pregnant, but... I don't think I would've minded getting pregnant as much if the father was someone else... Someone who loves me, you know?"

Myrtle nodded sadly, "He's a jerk."

"It seems as though the only reason he spoke to me after the potions accident was because he wanted me to name the baby after his parents and to try to get custody for the baby. I felt something when we... you know, but as soon as I left that room it was gone."

Myrtle let out a falsetto gasp, "He used you!"

Harry wiped away a tear that was making its way down his cheek, "You know, they should change my stupid nickname to the Boy Who Lived And Wishes He Hadn't."

"Harry?" he heard someone say quietly and jerked up to see Malfoy slowly opening the door to the stall. Myrtle glared at him.

"What are you doing in the girls' restroom?" she asked snottily.

Malfoy shrugged, "What's he doing in the girls' restroom?"

Standing up leisurely, Harry dusted himself off, "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"I noticed you leaving," he stated, "You looked upset so I followed you."

"You never bothered to pay any notice when I was upset before. Why should you bother now?" Harry quipped.

Malfoy paused and licked his lips, nervously running a thin pale hand through his silver hair, "Things are... different now."

Harry just gave him a cool stare amd walked past him, "Nothing is different."

Seamus looked over as Harry sat down next to him and asked, "Where have you been?"

"I was in the bathroom," he replied.

The benches of the quidditch arena were harder than he remembered seeing as he hadn't been up in the stands in a very long time. He tended not to go to any games, only play in them. The sun was bright and the breeze was soft on his skin. He felt very calm and relaxed, something he hadn't felt in a very long time.

"Where's Dudley?" he asked, realizing the only Seamus, Dean, and Hermoine were with him. They had all decided to sit together earlier that morning despite Ron's protests.

"He's up there with Ron," said Hermoine with a chuckle. Harry looked up at the front of the stand to see the two sitting together, Ron happily explaining the game to his cousin. Harry frowned.

"Oh."

Seamus cocked his head, "Are you alright, Harry? You seem pretty upset. Are you still mad at Ron for today at lunch?"

Shaking his head, Harry replied, "No. I understand his point even though it still hurts."

"Then what's wrong?" asked Dean.

Sighing, Harry closed his eyes and tipped his face up to the sun, feeling bad about distracting his friends from the game, "I just feel so... stretched. I'm ready for this to be over and it's just started. I haven't even begun showing yet and stupid Malfoy really isn't helping... He could help by throwing himself off a cliff, you know. That would be great."

Seamus smiled and giggled, "I highly doubt that, Harry."

They were all silent as they continued watching the game. It was Ravenclaw vs. Hufflepuff so they weren't very close with anyone of either team. This caused them all to cheer whenever a goal was scored... by either team.

"Harry," Hermoine said softly, "When did you start dancing?"

Harry looked at her curiously for a moment and answered, "When Aunt Petunia took away my guitar. She took it away and wouldn't give it back."

She frowned, "How did that lead you to dancing?"

"I started freaking out and having stress attacks. I was taken to a doctor and he suggested some kind of sport or extracurricular activity. Aunt Petunia signed me up for ballet and the kids I met there would meet every Friday night and go dancing. They invited me along one time and I became addicted," he said with a mirthful tone and a small grin on his face.

Hermoine was about to reply when it was announced that the Ravenclaw seeker had cought the snitch. Harry smiled at her then ran off before she could speak.

"Neville, how in the world do you get yourself into these positions?" Percy asked, laughter empatically apparent in his voice as he set down the large stack of papers he'd been carrying and hoped they didn't blow away. Neville just squirmed and tried to get away from the plants that had begun hugging him a few minutes ago and had yet to release him. This had caused him to scream for help and for Percy to run over.

"It's not funnAAAAHHH!" the largest of the plants picked him up several feet off of the ground and turned him upside down, "Percy, GET ME DOWN!"

Trying not to laugh, Percy looked over the plant. He knew several spells that would cause the plant to release Neville, but none that would prevent the boy from falling on his head. He frowned. He watched the vines and leaves move and noticed something that caused his frown to deepen.

"Percy," Neville sid in quiet alarm, "The plant is molesting me."

"I can see that, Neville," the redhead spat. He suddenly pulled out his wand and shouted a spell or something that caused the plant to hurl the small boy at him.

Neville screamed as he flew through the air and crashed into Percy, inertia causing them to roll on the ground for a moment before stopping with Neville burying his face into Percy's shoulder. He slowly lifted his head up.

"Are... are you alright, Percy?" he asked gently. He was above the older boy, practically straddling him.

"Yes," grated out Percy, not opening his eyes, "I am perfectly fine. How are you?"

"Um... I'm alive...?"

"Wonderful."

Percy gradually opened his eyes and stared at Neville. His blond hair was tousled and sloppy, falling into a curtain over his large, watery blue eyes. His moist, petal-pink lips were parted in tiny smile that lit up his face, his smooth, round, pale face. He felt himself slowly returning Neville's smile. It was then that he noticed how close they were, the way their bodies were pressed together.

Both Gryffindors hastily stood up and stepped away from each other. They brushed themselves off and tried not to make eye contact. Both were blushing and stuttering out apologies and thank-yous. They finally stopped and looked at each other then burst out laughing.

"You are not hurt then, Neville?" asked Percy, picking up the stack of papers he had set on the ground upon his arrival.

"I'm fine. I said I was, didn't I?"

Percy nodded, "Very well then. I'll be off. See you around, Neville."

The blond nodded hesitantly, "See you around, Percy."

'This is all such a mess,' Draco mentally bemoaned as he picked at the exorbitant foods on his dinner plate. He sat alone because none of his fellow Slytherins would come near him. They claimed he was a traitor. If they only knew...

He looked up and saw all of them laughing together: Ron, Hermoine, Dudley, Seamus, Dean, Neville, and Harry. Of course that was not how it went in his mind. It went more like: Weasle, Granger, the Fat Muggle, the Irish Twit, the Giant Walking Stick, Longbottom, and his Beautiful One.

Draco would never tell Harry, but the potion he'd been carrying wasn't a regular lust potion. Its properties barely dealed in lust at all. It simply found your most hidden emotion and amplified it until that emotion ruled your entire being. He'd secretly been over joyed to find that Harry had returned his affections, but it didn't matter now as he remembered the conversation he'd over heard in the restroom.

You know, they should change my stupid nickname to the Boy Who Lived And Wishes He Hadn't.

That little sentence had frightened him to no end. He had stood still for several moments, frozen solid with fear. The thought of a world without Harry...

I don't think I would've minded getting pregnant as much if the father was someone else... Someone who loves me, you know?

That had hurt. That had hurt a lot. he'd felt like someone had reached into his chest and ripped out his heart then began stomping on it. He felt like screaming at the top of his lungs, "I LOVE YOU, YOU IDIOT!" but he would never do that. He was a Malfoy. He had an image, a reputation he needed to uphold. He wondered if Harry wopuld ever realize that was all it was, an image. There was nothing behind it and he was the only thing keeping it up, but the consequences of letting it fall were too great. At least they were at the moment. He would take care of that. There were about to be a lot of changes taking place at Hogwarts...

"What can I do for you, Draco?" Snape asked as his student entered the back room of the potions lab. The room was cold and dark; it was small and the walls were lined with full bookshelves and candles that illuminated the room and gave it an eerie aura.

Draco shrugged and hoisted himself up to sit on the desk Snape was sitting at, "This episode has seriously set us back. I need to start the Milavr potion over again."

Snape sighed and set down his quill next to the parchment he'd been writing on, "It was hard enough getting the ingredients the first time, Draco. This time there can be no 'episodes'. He'll attack when Harry's weak, aka: in labor. This means that you have to be ready when the time comes. There can't be the slightest delay whatsoever."

"I know," grated out Draco.

"I am trusting you, Draco. You can't screw this up."

Draco nodded and smirked, "I know. I won't. Trust me."

TO BE CONTINUED