Harry Potter & The Daughter of Malfoy

Chapter One - Knocked Up

"You bloody idiot!"

"How was I meant to know the little fool would be coming in and collide with me, Severus? You could have warned me!"

"If you and your wife could simply perform procreation like any other couple, this would never have happened!"

Harry Potter pressed his eyes tightly shut, wondering why his brain had decided that now was a good time to return to consciousness, two men arguing nearby and one of them clearly Severus Snape, his least favourite Professor.

It also raised the question of why the hell he was lying in a bed.

In a place that smelt like the potions classroom.

The last thing he could remember was being on his way to Snape's dungeon, for yet another detention, and he had collided with a larger figure as he had sulkily stormed into the room.

He could vaguely remember a flash of blond hair, then the smash of a bottle and something cool and wet soaking through the front of his robes. And cursing. There had been quite a lot of loud cursing.

Then black.

Wincing, he felt a burning in his groin, suggesting that he really needed to go to the toilet soon. Ah. That was why consciousness had decided to bring him back. So he wouldn't embarrass himself even more.

Opening his eyes, he groaned as he started to sit up, feeling strangely tired.

His surroundings were dark, illuminated by a strange, green, flickering light, the walls black like those of the dungeon and the bed he was lying on, equally so, with dark blankets and sheets.

"Potter!"

Snape was looming over him in a heartbeat, grasping the boy's shoulders and staring down at him with...

Harry blinked.

Was that fear and concern?

On Snape's face?

He must have hit his head or something...

"Wh-what happened?" he asked nervously, while hoping he could contain the urge to pee in vast quantities.

"You were a clumsy little fool who wasn't looking where he was going," the second voice put in angrily, pulling Harry's attention from the rather scary expression of wary concern on Snape's face. "And now, you've wasted my time in coming here."

At the sight of the man beyond Snape, Harry felt the colour draining from his face.

"M-Malfoy..."

"So you recognise me, boy?" Malfoy's lip curled. "Pity you didn't, when you barged into me and spilled my potion."

"Lucius, hold your tongue for a moment," Snape snapped.

Harry was feeling queasy and a little frightened. Where was he? Had he been caught by the Death Eaters? Why was everything so dark? And why the hell did he feel so bloated and uncomfortable?

Turning his face away from Malfoy's glaring features, Harry looked nervously back at the Potions Professor, who was sitting on the edge of the bed beside him, studying him with concern.

"Where am I?"

"My chambers, Potter," A bony hand touched his brow, then his throat, Snape's dark brows puckering together. "And I'm afraid I may have some...rather bad news for both of you."

"Aside from the fact that my potion that I paid for is wasted?"

"Not wasted, Lucius," Snape replied seriously, although he did - in fact - look like he wanted to laugh. "Your second child has been conceived and will be born, only..." He gave Harry a pained look. "Congratulations, Mister Potter. You're pregnant."

The loud cursing started up again and Harry wondered if it was the warning that unconsciousness was impending.

Apparently, it was in this case.

***

"So, to protect herself, Narcissa desired to be pregnant?"

Lucius Malfoy was scowling mutinously at Albus Dumbledore, ignoring Harry completely. "Everyone knows that You-Know-Who never harms pregnant women, muggle, witch or otherwise. Narcissa simply wished to utilise it for her benefit."

Dumbledore's voice was neutral and strangely patient. "And you disliked the idea of natural conception so much, you resorted to Severus and his abilities to provide a child for you?"

Malfoy said nothing.

Harry was sitting in a chair opposite Dumbledore, looking down at his hands, still trying to come to terms with what he had just been told.

He was pregnant.

There were several reasons that that was just plain wrong. A. He was most definitely male. B. He hadn't even had sex yet, let alone be carrying his arch-nemesis' father's child. C. He was seventeen and meant to save the world from the evil Lord Voldemort. How was he meant to do that if he had to take maternity leave?

Plus, he was starting to wonder about his whole 'lacking in storage facilities' for a child, if he really was knocked up.

Although, his nipples had started getting rather sensitive, since the night before...

He reddened at the thought.

"Sir," he asked carefully. "Is...is it possible?"

"That you are magically conceived of a child? Unfortunately yes, it is true Harry."

So much for looking handsome and streamlined by the time it got to the time for the yearbook photographs.

"Bugger."

It seemed a good thing to say.

"So, what do we do now?"

Lucius Malfoy was the one the voiced the question.

"Well, I suppose Harry will return to his friends and explain the situation, then carry the child to term."

"Carry it?" Harry squeaked.

"I'm afraid a magical pregnancy could not be terminated, Harry, although you ought to know that a magically enhanced pregnancy is somewhat advanced and will only last four months."

"And that's my child your talking about," Malfoy added dangerously, his silver eyes flashing. "You'll carry that infant to term, as a punishment for being such a clumsy little fool."

He couldn't say why, but somewhere in his mind that sounded like a horrible thing to be called and his eyes brimmed over with tears that spilled down his face, although he couldn't help feeling confused.

He didn't cry.

It was the rule!

The Boy-Who-Lived didn't cry!

"There there, Potter," Snape offered a handkerchief, which Harry took and dabbed his eyes delicately with. Dabbed his eyes? What was he? A bloody girl? "I'm afraid your hormones are adjusting already."

"Hormones?"

As if dealing with the issue of pregnancy wasn't enough...

"Ah..." Even Dumbledore looked a little uncomfortable, which was doing nothing to reassure Harry, who was feeling like he would burst into floods of tears at the slightest thing. "Yes, that is a rather unfortunate side-effect. You will acquire some of the... emotional aspects of an expectant mother."

"But I'm not a girl!"

"We had noticed this minor fact, Potter," Malfoy growled. "Stupid little..."

Harry couldn't hold it in.

A wail of misery escaped him.

"Lucius," Snape hissed. "That really wasn't very helpful."

"And you expect me to be all hugs and puppies, Snape?" Grey eyes flashed angrily at the Potions professor. "That boy is carrying the child my wife wanted simply because he couldn't look where he was going!"

Blinking back tears, Harry felt anger rising in him. Anger more focussed, intense and powerful than anything he had ever felt before in his life and he surged to his feet, storming towards Lucius Malfoy.

"How dare you imply that this was entirely my fault, you hypocritical son of a bitch! HOW DARE YOU!" Jabbing his finger at the centre of Malfoy's chest, he heard himself shouting and wondered where this spectacular temper had come from. "You blame me for this child! You're the one that put this bloody thing in me! You're the one who didn't take more precautions! You're the one who can't sleep with his wife and left me with this...THING! You're being such a
bloody...MAN!"

There was a rather speechless silence.

Harry mentally went over the words in his head.

Dear God, he really did sound like a cheesed off pregnant woman.

Lucius Malfoy was gaping at him, mouth open.

Snape was snickering behind a hand, black eyes glinting with mirth.

Dumbledore was staring up at the ceiling, as if fascinated by a spider spinning a web there, but Harry had the oddest feeling that he, too, was amused.

Sitting back down, he awkwardly cleared his throat and smoothed the front over his stomach, here he could already feel a swell developing. He really was pregnant. He was carrying a Malfoy baby.

And he thought facing a Basilisk was bad.

"What do I do now?" he asked in a small voice.

"I'm sure the Gryffindors will understand," Dumbledore said sympathetically.

"Like hell they will!" Malfoy exploded angrily, vivid red spots appearing on his pale cheeks. "There is no way that the boy carrying my child is going to spend any time with filthy Gryffindors!"

"I'm a Gryffindor, you ignorant bastard!" Harry yelled back, his voice ringing with tears again. Malfoy actually flinched away at the vehemence in his tone. "Don't you even THINK about calling them names!"

Wow.

These mood swings were really kind of fun!

"So, what do you suggest?" Malfoy finally asked, not even meeting Harry's eyes. "I would rather keep the...surrogate nearby, lest anything should happen and since the boy is pregnant, the Dark Lord is liable to leave him alone."

"You mean," Harry interrupted. "If I'd been knocked up every year, Voldemort wouldn't have come after me?"

Snape and Dumbledore exchanged looks that clearly said "Now why didn't we think of that?"

"I ought to take him to the Manor. Narcissa will want him nearby."

"Like hell!"

"Mister Potter, that is the father of your child you are speaking to."

Harry blinked. "Don't say it that way," he said, a nauseous look crossing his face. "It sounds so...wrong."

"Unfortunately, it's true," Malfoy muttered.

"Which means that you can't hurt me, unless you want your wife to hurt you," Harry smirked. The look on Malfoy's face suggested that he was right and he smirked a little bit more.

"Mister Potter," Lucius Malfoy's voice had taken on a pleading note. "I assure you that you will have everything at your convenience, if you come to the Manor. Narcissa will see to your every need. You cannot remain here."

"And if I do?"

"I would be forced to put you in a full body-bind and take you there by force," It was said casually, although without malice. "I'm afraid my wife is rather possessive of her offspring, be they surrogate or not."

"Brilliant," Harry mumbled, turning to Dumbledore. "Sir...?"

"I hate to agree with a known Dark Wizard, Harry, but I'm afraid Mister Malfoy may be right in this situation. You can study there and be guaranteed safety," he said, getting to his feet. "Not only will you be under the protection of the Manor, but under the protection of Narcissa."

When all three older men shuddered at that, Harry wondered if he should try and make a run for it.

"Then, it's settled," Malfoy said, looking utterly disgusted. "Potter, you will come to the Manor and carry that child to term. No one need ever know that someone other than Narcissa bore a Malfoy child."

"Mister Malfoy, just so you know, I don't like you."

"And you were under the impression that I had an emotional attachment to you, simply because I left you pregnant?" There was a pause, then Malfoy shuddered, a nauseated look on his face. "And there are so many reasons that sounded wrong..."

Harry got to his feet, one hand coming to the base of his back, which was aching. "I hate my life," he muttered, as Dumbledore gave him a conciliatory smile of apology, which made him really wish he knew how to do the Cruciatus curse.

Seventeen, unmarried, pregnant and expected to save the world...

Life as a teenager wasn't easy.