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After it had been explained to him again, Harry was finally able to come to terms with the fact that he was up the duff. That it was entirely possible for a boy to become pregnant, and in fact, the pregnancy rate for underage witches (and wizards acting the submissive part in a relationship) was one hundred percent because of the magic detachment reaction. Harry was annoyed. Why hadn't Oliver told him this would happen? Knowing that Harry had been raised by muggles? Had he been too drunk to realise the repercussions of his actions? Was this why he'd said not to tell anyone? Not to let anyone find out? Harry's lip curled at the thought. What a bastard.

"So, once we contact the other father-"

"I don't want to do that," Harry interrupted. Jacobs frowned at him.

"Harry, he must be informed, as in the Wizarding World, family is very important, and all children need to know their parents and vice versa. It stemmed from inheritance issues that used to pop up quite frequently." Harry scowled. As if Oliver would care about any child of Harry's. No, it'd be the kids of his precious fiancée, wouldn't it?

"I don't see why he needs to know if I'm not keeping it." Jacobs looked confused, then said,

"Even children put up for adoption must meet the same criteria. I must add, in addition, that adoption is usually hard on the child, as it becomes common knowledge just who their parents are."

"Isn't it possible for me to… have an abortion?" There was shocked silence and Harry squirmed uneasily. What, had he made yet another faux pas? What was wrong with wanting to wait until he was out of Hogwarts and with someone he loved? Why did he have to ruin his life raising a child, undoubtedly on his own, seeing as there was no way Oliver would care (he'd demonstrated that quite thoroughly)? Why did he have to deal with puking every morning for the next god knows how long for a kid he didn't even want?

"Harry, abortion is something not practised in the Wizarding World unless the mother, or father, as in your case, is in grave danger… Too many things can go wrong, often with the parent losing their magic altogether. You have no life threatening diseases that could jeopardise the pregnancy, so unless you lose the baby through natural means, the pregnancy will not be terminated." Harry scowled again. How convenient. Have the baby, let it be unwanted its entire life and know that he was to blame, or become a Squib. What a wealth of choice.

So he shut up and listened to how the more annoying of his symptoms could be alleviated with a series of potions, and how he would go to Mungo's for a check-up once monthly; more frequently if required. Harry let it all wash over his head; still lost in the information he'd been given. No wonder Oliver had wanted them not to mention it again. He hadn't wanted to be held responsible when Harry found out. Idiot. Harry rolled his eyes when Jacobs told him he was underweight, and needed to put on more if the baby was to be born healthy. What a fabulous birthday surprise this'd been.

That night, he and Ron stayed up late, talking about what Harry was to do now. It'd gone over well with the rest of the family, and while Percy had stuttered and gone red, the rest of the family had had nothing but support from him. Too bad he didn't want it. Ron was the only one who seemed to get this, being the same age, and with the same interests. Even Fred and George were talking along the lines of how they'd 'raise the kid to be the best prankster ever', which was the lamest thing Harry'd ever heard.

"I suppose you'll have to owl the other dad for a meeting then, 'cos-" Ron stopped. "Hey, Harry, who is the other dad?" Harry stayed quiet. Could he trust Ron to keep it a secret? Probably… Ron was his best friend after all.

"You can't tell anyone, okay?"

"Sure. Not a soul."

"Right. Well, you know there was that party, and then I disappeared and you and Hermione asked where I was and I didn't say even when you poked and prodded-"

"Yes Harry. I remember, mate. No need to go on. Who did you disappear with, though?"

"Uhh… Oliver Wood…"

"Wood? Harry, he's ancient! But… I suppose it's cool that, you know, you've done it. And at least it wasn't Snape!" They laughed, and Harry finally felt a little better about the whole thing. The two said goodnight to each other and blew out their candles, and Harry was drifting off to sleep when Ron spoke again quietly.

"Harry mate, you could have told me you liked… blokes. I mean, not that there's anything wrong with it, of course, but…" Harry grinned.

"Don't worry, Ron, I never looked at you in the showers."

"Blimey, I never even thought of-"

"Good night, Ron."

"But-"

"Good night."

Before Harry knew it, it was time to pick up their school supplies again. He'd pretended to send an owl to Oliver a few days after his birthday (when in fact he'd just been renewing his subscription to the Daily Prophet for the new school year), and everyone thought he was meeting up with the 'mystery man' now. Fat chance. He was going to Fortescue's, to get some of that lovely banoffee ice cream the man had started selling in Easter. So it was, to his absolute disgust, that he saw just the man he'd been attempting to avoid sitting down at a table with a girl. The girl was pretty, and she had a lovely ring on her finger. Oliver'd probably spent his first paycheck on it, Harry sneered.

After purchasing his ice cream, Harry sat down at a table near them and watched what they were doing, irritated that they could possibly be having a good time when he was stuck with a baby at fifteen years old. He ate his ice cream viciously, startling an old couple sitting nearby. From the looks of it, they were discussing their wedding, and Harry was incensed to find that the girl had a beautiful laugh to boot. Suddenly, Harry could stand it no longer, and he walked over to their table with a fixed smile on his face.

"Oliver, great to see you! So this must be the girlfriend you were talking about – I can see why she'd be on your mind a lot," Harry said, smiling winningly. Oliver had frozen upon his arrival, and now sent him a warning glance.

"Harry… hi. You must be getting your school books, right?" Harry was about to answer when Oliver's girlfriend piped up.

"Ollie, aren't you going to introduce us? Does he go to Hogwarts?" She had a pretty, light French accent, and Harry found him hating her all the more for it. If she hadn't been in the picture, would Oliver have cast him off as he did? Well, probably, considering the age gap. After all, he had said it was practically illegal, which Harry now knew was a lie.

"Collette, this is Harry Potter; Harry, this is my fiancée, Collette Duchamp." Harry didn't miss the emphasis on fiancée – he'd have to have been deaf not to.

"Ollie, you never told me you knew Harry Potter? How?"

"Oh, well Harry was my," cough "the Seeker for Gryffindor, and I was Team Captain," Oliver said, smiling. They went with the small talk route for a while, Oliver quite noticeably tense, and Harry just happy to make him squirm. After a while, Oliver couldn't take it anymore.

"Collette, mind if Harry and I talk privately for a little while? There are a few things I want to talk to him about – a friend of his does wedding design." He added a charming wink and Collette smiled lovingly at him before entering a jewellery shop nearby.

Oliver and Harry sat in silence for a while, Harry content to sit there looking at the ex-Gryffindor. Why couldn't Oliver have…? Harry sighed. What was done was done, Oliver had a girlfriend and Harry was pregnant. Which, surprisingly enough, he now had to break to the other.

"Look, Harry, I thought we agreed not to talk with each other anymore." Harry didn't know that they'd agreed any such thing, but whatever. He'd act cold – it was possibly the only way he could do this without losing his nerve.

"I don't exactly want to talk to you, but as you neglected to give me an important piece of information, something unfortunate has occurred." Oliver looked confused, and then it was as if a light went off behind his eyes.

"Shit."

"Yeah, that'd be about right." Harry hadn't ever known he could make himself sound so condescending. Oliver's eyes darted off to the side and he ran a hand through his hair nervously.

"Uh, if you want money or something…"

"I've got plenty of my own, Oliver, I don't need yours."

"Then what do you want? Like I said before, this could ruin me, and doubly so now that you're… you know. Sorry about that night, but I was drunk. I want to raise a family with Collette; what do you expect me to do? I can't exactly acknowledge that your baby's mine, can I?" Harry couldn't help himself from feeling stung, but then again, he shouldn't have expected any better. He didn't want the thing, so why would Oliver, when he didn't even have to?

"Don't worry, I won't 'out' you to the public. I wouldn't want you to lose your job after all," Harry snorted. "I only told you because apparently it's a requirement that everyone knows who their parents are and vice versa. It cuts down on inheritance issues. And don't worry-" Harry said, cutting off Oliver before he could even start, "I wouldn't expect you to leave any money to him or her when you die."

There was an awkward silence, which was thankfully broken by Collette coming back to the table. She seemed not to notice the tense atmosphere, and instead she smiled at Harry and took Oliver's hand.

"Sorry to interrupt your conversation, but I've just spotted a really beautiful necklace in the jeweller's, and I'd like Oliver to see it," she said, with a wink at Harry. "It was very nice meeting you, Harry, and I do hope you'll be attending our wedding this upcoming Christmas." Harry's eyes widened for a fraction of a second, but then a lopsided grin made its way onto his face.

"If that's alright with you two…"

"But of course! Isn't that right, Ollie?" The man cringed, but managed to speak.

"Sure. We'll send an invitation sometime soon, I guess." And before anymore could be said, Collette was dragging her husband-to-be off, shouting a quick 'goodbye' over her shoulder.

Harry snapped his plastic spoon in half, frustrated. He couldn't bring himself to hate Collette, she was just too pleasant a person. However, Oliver on the other hand… offering him money! Like he was some kind of whore or something. Having come to Diagon Alley to buy school supplies and hopefully take his mind off this whole thing, Harry was not very pleased at all to have encountered the man. How intensely irritating.