A Question of Choice

Draco knew there was something very wrong when he saw the fear in Harry's eyes. Because, truth be told, he'd hardly ever seen that emotion in the boy's eyes. He'd seen things like bravery and determination and spirit. Those he'd seen plenty of times. But this...this fear... It made him very uneasy.

And he hated feeling uneasy.

His eyes shifted from his nemesis' face down the length of his body to the iron shackle placed around his ankle that kept him tethered to the floor. It was funny in an odd sort of way - his father could have had the Boy Who Lived trussed up with so many chains and ropes that nary an inch of his skin would have been visible, but he had opted for one single shackle instead. He wondered when his father had begun to appreciate the art of understatement.

It was at this point in his musings that he realized his father was speaking again. Draco lifted his eyes and forced himself to focus on the scene playing out before him.

“...is here. What is it?”

“There's no magic here. You took my wand, remember?” Harry asked, his tone ever-defiant and yet colored with a touch of desperation. Draco wondered if his father had picked up on it also.

“No, I can feel it. You're surrounded by it,” Lucius said. “You practically reek of it.”

Harry shook his head in negation, but Lucius was already raising his wand, preparing to end whatever spell he had sensed around the boy.

“Finite Incantatum,” Lucius said as he pointed the wand at the boy.

The change to Harry was instantaneous. One second he was standing there, looking very normal and Harry-like, and the next second he was standing there with his arms crossed protectively over a very large stomach.

Draco looked on with scorn. Harry Potter had gotten fat? This is what he had been trying to hide with a concealment spell? But the scorn quickly melted away when he realized that not everything about the boy was bigger, that it was mostly just his stomach...

“You. Are. Pregnant?” his father asked in amazement.

Harry responded by looking down at the ground and pointedly not responding to the question.

Lucius laughed heartily, as if he were hearing the world's best joke. “The great Harry Potter, pregnant with a bastard child. This is almost too good.”

At hearing the word “bastard”, Harry's head shot up and Draco could clearly see the wild fury in his eyes.

“How did this happen?” Lucius asked as his hand touched Harry's stomach.

Harry pushed it away in disgust. “Does it matter?” he asked.

“No I suppose not,” Lucius said mildly. “What matters is that you are with child and that this may very possibly change things. I must consult with Lord Voldemort before I proceed any further.”

Harry said nothing, choosing instead to give Lucius a look of utter disdain and contempt. Draco was impressed with it despite himself.

Lucius smirked. “I wouldn't look so high and mighty if I were you, Potter. You are not a hero. You are nothing but a worthless little tramp who managed to get himself knocked up.”

The words were designed to hurt, but Draco couldn't tell from Harry's expression whether they did or not.

Then Lucius backhanded Harry, for no other reason than to watch him fall to the floor, and said, “I will return shortly.” He raised his head and looked at his son. “Draco, stay here with him.”

Draco accepted the order without question. “Yes, father.”

He watched as his father left the room and then he turned his attention to the boy on the floor. Said boy was now holding a hand to his cheek, gently rubbing the spot where his father had hit him. The other hand was placed protectively on his stomach.

His stomach...

The stomach that now held within it a human life. Draco blinked, trying to take in that fact. This was all so surreal. He watched in fascination as Harry pushed himself up to a sitting position, and, placing his elbows on his knees, dropped his head into his hands.

Draco took a couple of tentative steps forward, his curiosity getting the better of him. “You're really pregnant, Potter?” he asked before he could censor himself.

Harry lifted his head from his hands and looked around for a moment before he focused on Draco. It was almost as if he had forgotten that the other boy was still there.

He sighed wearily. “Yes, I am Malfoy.”

“How...how did this happen?” he asked, echoing his father's earlier question.

Draco wasn't really expecting an answer, so he was surprised when he heard Harry's soft voice answer, “Potion gone wrong.”

Draco could think of nothing to say to that. Which was surprising, because he always had a sarcastic answer for everything. It was one of the things that he prided himself on. But this entire situation was just so strange...

He stood there in uncertain silence, not really sure what he should do next, when Harry suddenly gasped and clutched his stomach. Draco took another step forward. “Is something wrong?”

Harry shook his head and absently rubbed a spot on his belly. “No, she's just active. She likes to kick. I just can't seem to get used to it.”

“It's a girl?” Draco asked, as he closed the distance between them and dropped down to his knees in front of the other boy.

Harry stopped rubbing and looked at Draco. His eyes held a sadness so deep that Draco was tempted to turn away from it. “Yes, it's a girl, ” he answered softly.

“How...far along are you?” Draco asked uncertainly, torn between wanting to know more and wanting to walk away.

“Almost eight months now,” Harry responded in that quiet, simple way of his.

Draco couldn't stop the shock from showing on his face. How in the world had Potter managed to hide being pregnant for eight months? Why had no one noticed? Then another thought hit him. The baby that was inside Potter's body...she was almost full-term. Almost ready to join the world as a brand new life.

The next words that came out of Draco's mouth surprised even him. “Can I touch her...your stomach, I mean?”

Harry froze and a look of complete confusion washed over his face. He cocked his head to the side and stared at Draco, as if trying to comprehend some unfathomable equation. Draco very quickly grew uncomfortable under the scrutiny and prepared to stand. “Forget I asked,” he said, his voice going cold.

Before Draco could actually move, Harry reached out and grabbed his wrist, holding him immobile. “No, I'm sorry. You just...caught me off guard,” he said softly.

Draco was about to pull away from Harry's grip, he still had his pride after all, when Harry pulled on his wrist and placed his hand flat on his stomach. Draco instinctively spread his fingers out against Harry's surprisingly taut belly. He had to suppress a gasp when Harry's warm hand suddenly covered his own. Then he held his breath and waited to feel the sensation of moving flesh. But there was nothing. Nothing at all.

Harry frowned and moved both of their hands slowly across his stomach, the look on his face one of utter and intense concentration.

“She was there a minute ago,” Draco heard the other boy mutter under his breath. Then suddenly, Harry stopped moving their hands. Draco inhaled sharply when he felt the skin under his own move. Harry's skin was undulating under his fingertips. A life was truly in there. Truly, wondrously in there. His eyes met Harry's and they simply stared at each other, neither willing to ruin this moment with words, both content simply to let it be.

A lively kick from the baby caused Draco's hand to jump and he smiled.

This is real magic.

And as Draco continued to look into Harry's eyes, he realized that they were shining with tears that he would not allow himself to shed. And for the second time in one day, Draco felt uneasy.

Just then the door to the room slammed open, startling both boys and causing them to pull away from each other. Draco watched as his father strode into the room, ever confident, ever masterful.

Harry quickly brushed the back of his hand against his eyes and struggled to stand up while Lucius looked on dispassionately.

“Lord Voldemort has given me permission to kill both you and the bastard child.”

Harry looked at him, his eyes going wide with terror. There was no trace of determination, courage or spirit in his face now. “No, you can't!”

“Can't I?” Lucius asked smoothly. “I really do not think you are in any position to tell me what I can and cannot do, Mr. Potter.”

“Please, Mr. Malfoy...” Harry began to say, but was quickly cut off by Lucius' hand slamming into his cheek once again.

He fell to the floor, hard, his ankle twisting under the pressure of the unforgiving restraint.

He turned his face upward, unmindful of the blood that was leaking out of the corner of his mouth or the pain in his ankle. When he spoke, his words came out in a frenzied rush, as if he were running out of air. “You don't have to hurt her. You could take her out, she would survive it. And then you could do whatever you wanted to with me. Please, Mr. Malfoy.”

Lucius bent down and grabbed a handful of Harry's dark hair. He used it to pull the boy closer to him. “Are you begging me, Mr. Potter? Is the savior of the wizarding world actually begging me?”

Harry nodded as best as he could with the blond man's hand entwined in his hair. “Yes, I'm begging you. Please...I'll do anything. Anything you want...”

Lucius stared at him for a long moment. “Hmmm...tempting. But I think I'd rather kill you.”

He let go of Harry's hair so abruptly that the boy fell back onto the floor. Then he delivered a kick to his mid-section that startled Draco with its viciousness.

Harry screamed and turned in on himself, instinctively protecting both himself and the baby. “Please...” he gasped.

“I've decided that I will kill you the Muggle way. I believe it will be much more painful for you and much more satisfying for me.”

Draco looked on in shock as his father pulled out his long staff and hit Harry squarely on his back. And then again on his shoulder. He had been on the receiving end of that staff countless times before, but he had never seen his father use it on someone else.                                   

He felt that he should be thrilled by this. After all, he was watching the boy who he hated getting beaten into a bloody pulp - what more could someone ask for? And yet he wasn't enjoying it, not at all. In fact it was making him sick to his stomach. And then there was the child. The innocent child that lived inside of Potter's body, that would be violently murdered before even having a chance to really live.

He made up his mind quickly - he had to try and stop this. He acted before he could second-guess himself. “Father wait!” he shouted.

His father paused only long enough to give him one of his patented angry sneers, then continued with the beating.

Draco thought about retreating then. He had made his stand, hadn't he? What was really expected of him here? After all, this was his sworn enemy that his father was hurting. It's not like he cared about Potter.

But the child...the child was innocent...

He swallowed hard and gathered his courage again. “Father, you can't do this.”

His father froze and slowly turned to look at him, disbelief clearly written on his face. “And why can't I Draco?”

“Because Father, you can't kill the child,” Draco said.

“The child is not even alive!”

“She is! Inside of him, she is alive.”

“Draco, if you wish to live to see your 15^th birthday, I suggest you shut your mouth now. Do you understand me?”

Draco managed a very small “yes father” before backing away from the scene in front of him. His father had resumed hitting Potter who was curled up into a small ball and alternately groaning and screaming. There was blood now...some of it shining very brightly against Harry's skin. Most of the blood was on Harry's trousers however, and there it was scarlet and dark. Draco's eyes opened impossibly wide as he struggled with choices, struggled with concepts of right and wrong that he had never really thought about before. And then he did the only thing he could think of to do...he ran.

Harry was in so much pain that he barely registered that Draco had run out of the room. He knew that he was bleeding...down there...and that thought filled him with a suffocating despair. Because he knew what the blood indicated. He knew it meant that the baby was dying.

The same baby that he didn't want at first. The one that he felt such ambivalence towards for so many months. Until that first day that she moved. The same day that he was told that she was indeed a girl. That was when he had started to care for her. And now - now he loved her more than anything.

And now she was dying inside of him.

But then again so was he.

She would die and he would die and perhaps they would be able to find each other in heaven.

And that was Harry's last thought before the pain overwhelmed him and his world went black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry came to consciousness again very slowly, as if he were swimming up through immeasurably deep murky depths. The first thing he became aware of, after finally breaking through the surface of the murk, was that he was in no pain. The second thing he became aware of was that it was very bright beyond his closed eyelids.

He opened his eyes slowly, testing. Yes, he had been correct. It was very bright here.

‘So,' he mused. ‘This is heaven.' Then, ‘I always thought it would be a little more spectacular.'

Just then he sensed a presence close by and he realized that he was not alone.

He turned his head and was surprised to see Dumbledore sitting beside him.

“Are you dead as well?” he asked, his voice no more than a whisper.

Dumbledore smiled and, reaching out, laid his hand upon Harry's. “No, I am not dead. And neither are you, my boy.”

“I'm not dead?” Harry asked, trying very hard to comprehend this. “But I thought...”

“You survived Lucius' attack, Harry.”

Now Harry finally understood. He was alive, in the infirmary at Hogwarts. His free hand instantly moved to his stomach. It was still round...maybe there was a chance...

“Is the baby...” he couldn't bring himself to finish the question.

“She is fine. We were able to save her. She is a fighter, much like her father.”

Harry closed his eyes in relief.

When he opened them, he saw that Dumbledore was holding his glasses out for him. He took them from him and put them on, feeling more like himself almost instantly.

“How long was I out?” he asked.

“Two days. We were all very worried. Hermione and Ron have hardly left your side,” Dumbledore answered.

Harry looked around the empty infirmary. “Where are they?”

“They will be in shortly. But there is someone here that I believe you should see first,” Dumbledore said.

Harry nodded, curious. “All right.”

Dumbledore stood from the chair and looked to the side. A moment later Harry saw someone walking towards them.

He recognized the figure instantly. That platinum blond hair could belong to no one else. His eyes narrowed in anger. “Malfoy?”

Draco gave a brief nod. “Potter.”

Harry turned towards the headmaster in disbelief. “What is he doing here?”

Dumbledore answered in that slow, patient way of his. “Harry, Draco here is the one who saved your life.”

“What?” Harry could not have been shocked if Dumbledore had told him that he was Snape's favorite student.

“Perhaps it would be better if Draco himself explained what happened,” Dumbledore suggested as he indicated the empty chair with a slight tilt of his head. Draco walked towards it and sat down. Dumbledore then walked out of the room without another word, leaving the two boys to stare at each other.

The seconds ticked by slowly with neither boy speaking. Finally, after what seemed like hours, Harry got fed up with the silence and said, “Well?”

“Well, what?” Draco asked.

“You saved my life?”

“It would appear so, yes.”

“But I saw you run out of the room.” His brow wrinkled in confusion. “Or at least I think I did.”

“Yes, I did. To get my wand. Then I ran back in and used Petrificus Totalis on my own father.”

Harry's eyes practically bugged out of his head. “You did what?” he managed to choke out.

Draco shrugged.

“Draco, I...I don't know what to say.” He paused. “I mean, you saved my life...I...thank you, I...”

Draco rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Oh, don't go getting all sentimental on me Potter. I didn't do it for you.” He stopped and sighed. “I did it for your child.”

“But why? Why would you care about her at all?”

“You know, I've been asking myself that same question for two days now, and I can never come up with a good answer.”

“Come on, Malfoy.”

Draco sighed, then he looked down at his hands. “Your child...didn't deserve that. It wasn't right what my father was doing. Sometimes...I've always known that my father is not a good man, but I've never seen him be so cruel. It just wasn't right.” He stopped speaking and looked up, his eyes flashing challenge. “Is that all right? Is that a good enough reason for you?”

“Yeah, it is,” Harry said somberly. He hesitated for a moment then asked, “What happened to you father?”

Draco leaned back in his chair. “They tried to arrest him. He escaped of course. Don't know where he is now. Probably figuring out a way for me to die a horrible death.”

“I'm sorry,” Harry said, feeling somehow responsible for the fact that Draco's father probably hated him now.

Draco shrugged. “Don't be. I made my choice. I don't regret what I did.”

Harry arched an eyebrow. “No? Not at all?”

Draco sniffed haughtily. “No, not at all.” Then he lowered his gaze and said almost shyly, “I don't, really, although sometimes I wonder if I've lost my bloody mind.”

Harry smiled and nodded, thinking how strange it felt to be smiling around Malfoy. “So what happens now?” he asked.

“Asylum, here, til I graduate. After that I don't know.”

“I meant between us. What happens between us. We can't continue to be enemies. After all, you saved both my life and Lily's.”

“Lily's?” Draco questioned.

“That's her name,” Harry answered, his hand unconsciously moving to rest on his stomach.

Draco smirked. “Of course.”

Harry smoothly ignored the smirk. “We could try to be friends,” he suggested.

At this, Draco rolled his eyes and stood up. “There you go again Potter, getting all sentimental on me. How about if we just agree not to hate each other and we'll take the rest as it comes?”

“I think I can handle that,” Harry answered with a small smile.

“Well, I'd better get going. Granger and Weasley are probably chomping at the bit to get in here.”

Harry looked up at Draco and tried to picture this boy actually saving his life. He shook his head slightly. It was definitely a concept that would take some getting used to. He made a mental note to ask Dumbledore for more details the next time he saw him.

Suddenly, Harry noticed that Draco looked very uncomfortable, as if he didn't know what he should do or say next. He fidgeted for a minute, looked around aimlessly then finally he placed his hand atop Harry's; on the hand that was resting on his stomach. He squeezed it lightly and said, “Take care Potter. Try to avoid any more life-threatening situations. I may not be around to rescue you next time.”

And with that, he left. Harry watched him go, feeling both amused and incredibly confused at the same time, like sense and sanity had completely fled from his world.

Then Lily kicked and Ron and Hermione entered the infirmary and sense and sanity thankfully returned.