Harry, you're pregnant.

Those words had stuck with Harry for the next five days, as he did his best to continue to sleep, eat, do his school work, and pay attention in class. All things seemed to be difficult now, and he constantly had to adhere to the notes that the matron had given him—hidden in the sleeves of his robes—to pay attention to what he could and could not do, given his condition. Madam Pomfrey had considerately agreed to send a note to Professor Slughorn—who was surprisingly accommodating towards Harry in the matter—for Harry to spend his hours for potions, from then until the end of the year, doing independent research assignments in the library, as there were just one too many things that Harry could do, inhale, or be around, that would be damaging to the baby.

Harry had been told of his pregnancy on Monday, and he was also told by Madam Pomfrey that, due to the length he was presenting, he was likely a bit over five months. Due to the exercise that he was putting himself through—which Madam Pomfrey approved, although she did say that flying was now out, although walks around the grounds were just fine—he wasn't displaying as much girth as a woman would. Of course, it also had to do with the fact that he was male, and would not, therefore, present the same symptoms as any pregnant woman. He was told that he would need to see Madam Pomfrey at least once a week, for it was a high-risk pregnancy for two reasons—one, he was only sixteen, and two, he was a male.

When Saturday dawned, Harry permitted himself to have a lie-in, and waited until Ron, Dean, Seamus, and Neville had left the sixth-year Gryffindor boys' dorm before he arose. He took a lengthy shower, the knots in his back considerately diminishing due to the pressure of the hot water, and stepped back out into his bedroom to dress himself. He decided to have Dobby bring him something to eat, as he didn't want to have to brave the Great Hall, now that he was on a strict diet, due to the pregnancy.

"Dobby?" he called.

Dobby popped into view and dashed about Harry's legs, throwing his arms around him with an almighty squeak. "Great Master Harry Potter sir is to have a baby!" he crowed.

Harry sighed. "Madam Pomfrey tell you that?"

Dobby nodded, pulling back from Harry and flapping his ears with excitement. "Yes, but only because Dobby is Master Harry Potter's elf," he said quickly. "Dobby was told not to tell anybody else, and Dobby won't, sir, Dobby won't!"

Harry smiled, crossing the room and investigating his trunk for something to wear that day. "I know, Dobby," he assured him, settling on a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and a jumper. "I was wondering if Madam Pomfrey went over with you what I wasn't allowed to eat..."

"Dobby knows!" the house-elf said. "Madam Pomfrey told Dobby that Master Harry Potter must stay away from most fish, raw, processed, or undercooked meat, raw eggs, organ meat, caffeine, unpasteurized dairy products, and alcohol," he informed his master.

"Can you bring me some eggs and toast for breakfast, Dobby?" Harry asked, turning around halfway to look at the elf. "I want to eat quickly. I have to get to the library and do some research about all this."

"Dobby understands, sir," the house-elf said quickly, his ears flapping again as he nodded his head profusely. "Dobby will be right back!"

Harry waited until Dobby had cracked away, before he threw his flannel into the laundry, and dressed himself quickly. He then sat on his bed and Accio'd the Marauder's Map, which he intended to use upon his journey to the library, not wanting to potentially run into Hermione and answer an overabundance of questions. He knew he would have to tell Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Draco at some point—as well as Neville, Luna, Sirius, and Remus, not to mention Severus—but he knew he would reveal the information in his own time.

Dobby appeared with another crack a moment later, with the eggs and toast on one plate, and a generous glass of pumpkin juice. "Madam Pomfrey told Dobby that great Master Harry Potter sir can still have his favorite drink while pregnant!"

Harry chuckled, levitating his breakfast on top of his trunk. "Thank you, Dobby," he said, taking ahold of the glass and sipping it, relieved when he didn't sick up all over the elf. "I'll call you again if I don't want to go to the Great Hall for lunch."

Dobby nodded, his ears flapping once more, before he disappeared again.

Harry ate his breakfast and drank his juice quickly, his dishes disappearing to return to the kitchens to be washed as soon as he'd finished. He then crossed over to the loo to wash his hands, and looked at himself in the provided mirror above the sink. Standing back once he had dried his hands, he saw that there was a distinct curvature to his stomach, now that he was properly looking at it, and smiled slightly then, gently drawing his fingers and palms along it. He then made his way back into the bedroom and made a grab for the map, before he headed out of there and down the stairs, before exiting the portrait of the fat lady and walking towards the library, which he hoped to be close to empty.

"There are other options, if you're not ready, Harry," came the matron's words in his mind as he walked.

"Such as?" Harry had asked, his fingers tangling themselves up in the hospital wings' blanket and duvet set.

"Well, adoption is quite common in the Wizarding World," Madam Pomfrey told him gently, and Harry knew that she would agree with whatever he wanted.

Harry shook his head. "No. I could never do that..."

The matron nodded at him. "Well, I should be the first to inform you that termination is not an option," she told him softly.

"Why? Because I'll die?" Harry snapped.

"No, no, dear, of course not," Madam Pomfrey said quickly. "There were legends and myths through the years within the Wizarding World that pregnancy was tied to your magical core and, therefore, termination would kill both the child and the bearer. That was just the church and religious zealots talking, dear, so as to prevent terminations, as well as to publicly shame the bearers, if they were not married while going through a pregnancy."

"So, why isn't it an option, then?"

"Because you are too far along," Madam Pomfrey told him. "You conceived this child at the end of October," she went on, and Harry shut his eyes, knowing that it had to have happened at the inn in Godric's Hollow. "Why, dear? Is a termination something you would want?"

"No, no, it's not that," Harry assured her. "I don't want one at all," he said softly, and slowly opened his eyes. "I just wanted to know all the information. I'm tired of people keeping things from me, you know?"

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "Of course I know, dear," she said quietly.

Harry made his way into the library, unknowing how he was ever going to find information about pregnancies within the Wizarding World, when he had thought, up until Monday afternoon, that only women could conceive. Now, he knew that men—at least in the world he called home—could do have children, and the thought was just enough to shock him completely to the core. Now that he had a few days to process the information, however, he was finally ready to read as much as he could about the subject.

Harry entered the library, pocketing the map as he went—as none of his friends were lurking in between the bookcases or at the scattered tables—and nodded to Madam Pince. The librarian nodded back to him as he drifted through the bookshelves, hoping beyond hope to find something on offer that would be of use to him. When he finally got to a section called Lifestyle, he thought it could be a plausible place to start, and so he ventured forward, gazing at the various titles of the tomes, hoping that he wouldn't have to venture out to Tomes and Scrolls in Hogsmeade or Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley for a new book altogether, as he really didn't want Hedwig to be separated from Galentine.

Harry's jaw dropped then at one of the titles—Pregnancies in Wizards—and immediately pulled it off from the shelf. It was written by someone named Irving Magnolis and Aria Cross, and it appeared to have been published during the Second World War. Harry bit his lip and looked around; a nearby book was called Quarrels in Quidditch by Prudence Hornette, and Harry, taking a gamble, transfigured the books, so that he appeared to be holding the Quidditch book and not the one about wizarding pregnancies. He also did the inside title pages for good measure, knowing that the librarian would have to give her literal stamp of approval for him checking out the book. He then brought it up to her desk, but Madam Pince was busily polishing that gilded spell book he had seen her polishing back in second-year, so she barely glanced at him or the book he wanted to take out, and merely motioned for him to sign his name in the indicated spot.

Harry thanked her, and she gave him a nod mid-polish, and Harry strode out of the library and shrunk down the book, just in case. He got the map out from his pocket and immediately went towards the Room of Requirement, knowing that the room would seal its door to prevent Harry from being disturbed while he read this book. Once he got up to the correct floor, he thought of a place to read his book in safety without interruption, and the door presented itself to him out of the stone wall. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and opened the door, which quickly closed behind him as he stepped inside.

Harry's eyes prickled then, as he was standing in an exact replica of the front room of Severus's suite in that godforsaken inn at Godric's Hollow. He shook his head, pleased to see that the fire was built up and roaring, and stepped further into the room, and sank gratefully down upon the provided couch, and took up the book in his lap. With a soft, "Finite," the book returned to that of Pregnancies in Wizards, and he immediately opened it up to inspect its rather lengthy and detailed Table of Contents.

He disregarded the chapter on Conception, as he knew full well what it was, given that he had found himself in this tricky situation in the first place. He did decide, however, to look into the chapter which reportedly detailed the pregnancy itself, and turned to look.

"Should the wizard currently in the state of pregnancy exercise regularly, then he himself will not experience the typical bulge in the pelvic area that witches, Squib and Muggle women do and will frequently complain about. The pregnancy will face more towards the back of the male body, as male pregnancies are found to be the direct opposite of female ones. When birth comes for the wizard, what's known as a cesarean or C-section is, in actuality, the only way in which the child can be born. There were once rumors of a potion that could literally give the pregnant male the body parts of a woman, but these seem to have been merely myth, much like the legend that a magical individual will die if the pregnancy is terminated, which was rumored to be connected to the magical core completely. Although the fetus sustains its life from the magical core—in the case of witch and wizard pregnancies—only by the time the fetus is twelve weeks or more, such as in Muggle women, will this be completely the case. 'Fetus' is the appropriate term until twelve weeks gestation, and then the term 'baby' can be used for the duration of the pregnancy if the bearer does not wish to know the sex. Then, the bearer themselves usually refers to their unborn child by their selected given name."

"I'll ask Madam Pomfrey," Harry said softly, reaching down and caressing his belly. "Got to start thinking of a name for you, and plans of where I'm going to raise you..." He cut himself off then and sighed. Although Sirius had agreed to be supportive about his hoped-for future with Severus, Harry believed that the man wouldn't accept a child, although it had been conceived in love...

Well, on Harry's end at the very least.

Harry leaned back upon the couch, eyes watery with tears, and shook his head. "Whatever you are, boy or girl," he whispered as tears traveled down his face, "I promise to always love and support you in whoever it is you come to love."

Harry wandered down alone to Hogsmeade later that day, just to get out of his head a bit, and kept a good grip upon the map. He had also summoned his copy of Advanced Potion-Making to take with him, in case he wanted to sit and read somewhere. The entirety of the snow that had blanketed the wizarding village for the past several weeks had finally dissipated a good fortnight before, just in time for the arrival of spring. Feeling a bit peckish, Harry ventured into The Magic Neep and selected some fresh fruit, plus had the butcher in the back of the shop make him a rather large sandwich for his lunch. He also took a packet of crisps and a fresh strawberry delight for his pudding before venturing back out of doors.

Moving over towards the Shrieking Shack and sitting down in the shade of a lone tree atop a slight mound, he sat down against it and tucked into his lunch. Caressing his stomach now and again, he was pleased that the baby—as he was over five months along, he felt confident referring to his child as such—liked the lunch. Humming to himself, he wiped off his hands with the moist towelettes he's procured at the greengrocer's and leaned back against the tree. The sun was warm but did not beat down upon him, thankfully, and he drew the potions book out from his pocket and opened it, thumbing through the pages.

He smirked at some of the notes whoever the Half-Blood Prince was had written, and felt less alone than he had in a long time. Although Hermione had been disparaging about the changes in recipes—which had gotten Harry repeated Outstanding's in potions—as well as the fact that Harry supposedly "practically slept with it", Harry had repeatedly ignored her words. Yet, despite his denials towards Hermione about what he chose to share his four-poster with, he did indeed sleep with his potions text.

"What do you think, baby?" he asked his child softly. "You think your father is anything like this Half-Blood Prince bloke?" Harry let out a short gasp then, as his child flipped around inside him for the first time, and his eyes filled with tears for the second time that day. "No, way, right? I don't even know how he's going to react..." Harry said, and trailed off, looking down the main street of the village, and sighing wistfully in the direction of The Three Broomsticks. "Reckon he's in there?" he wondered aloud, to which his baby promptly kicked him. "Oi! That's enough from you, then," he said, and shook his head. "Personally, I don't think he's in there either," he muttered, and shook his head, turning and looking out of the other way of the village, where the main track soon tapered off into the non-magical world. "I wonder where he is?" came his whispered question, as he caressed his stomach again.

~*~

Harry asked Ron to please tell Hermione, who was then informed to tell Ginny, who would then naturally tell Draco, that he wanted them to meet him in the Room of Requirement for lunch one week later. The Saturday afternoon sunshine streamed through the windows of the room that day, as Harry had considered an open concept room for the conversation that day. It reminded him of an old country house with an expansive kitchen leading off into a courtyard, which is exactly what the room provided him with that day.

Harry was sitting in the expanded nook, tapping his fingers on the tabletop, when Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Draco all trooped in just after lunch. Lunch was spread out upon the table around Harry, and he waved to them all to come and sit down. Hermione and Ginny looked taken back by the proclamation, but Ron and Draco didn't need telling twice, and slipped into the booth and immediately began loading their plates. Hermione and Ginny stepped forward and joined them, although they seemed unable to take their eyes off Harry.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, once Ginny had appeared to nod at her to pose the question. "Is everything all right?"

Ginny sighed. "Why did you ask us here?" she queried.

Harry sighed, a deep sound, which caused both Ron and Draco to look up at him, and lowered their cutlery, and waited. "I asked you all here because there's something I need to tell you," he said quietly.

"Whatever it is, mate, we'll face it together," Ron said.

"Exactly," Draco affirmed, slightly thrown by the seriousness in Harry's voice. "Just tell us. No judgement from any one of us."

Harry wetted his lips then, knowing that he wouldn't know what to do fully if none of his friends supported him in this, but decided that he had to be as up-front as possible. He'd sat on it long enough and had learned all he could, so now it was time to permit the dam to break and let the waters either flood or steady themselves. "I'm pregnant."

"I know," came the reply of Hermione and Ginny, at the exact same moment.

"You knew?!" Ron demanded, whipping around to face his sister and girlfriend.

"How could you have—?!" Draco cried out.

"I had a feeling you two knew, or had some idea about what was going on with me," Harry said quietly, which inadvertently cut Draco off. "'Mione's too smart for her own good, and Gin grew up in the wizarding world, so she probably knew about all this..."

"I take it that Professor Snape is the father?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded. "Yes. I haven't been with anyone else."

"Pregnancies between wizards can only be possible through two circumstances, although not always together," Ginny said softly. "Both wizards must be extremely powerful, or they must be in love with one another."

Harry swallowed, hating it when a lump rose in his throat. "Probably the first one," he said, getting to his feet and walking around the room. He knew he would blame himself for his ankles swelling later, but he needed some space, what with Ginny's declaration.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, getting to her feet and following him slowly. "What do you mean 'probably the first one'? You seem pretty set on that."

"I am," Harry responded, caressing his stomach and deliberately not looking at her. "Severus isn't in love with me."

"What did that bloody git say to you?!" Ron demanded, leaping to his feet and moving around Harry so that he was looking at him.

Harry shook his head and lowered his eyes. "Nothing. That's the point..."

"Wait a moment," Draco said, slowly getting to his feet and stepping closer. "Severus is notorious for keeping his thoughts and feelings close to his chest."

"Yes, well, he shouldn't have to do that with me," Harry snapped, quickly losing control on the small amount he had built up. "Who am I kidding? He probably just saw me as his own personal fuck toy..."

"Harry!" Hermione cried out.

"Think about it, 'Mione," Ron put in, his voice soft. "The age difference, the fact that they couldn't tell anyone about it..."

"They couldn't tell anyone about it because Professor Snape got sacked the moment they were found out," Ginny put in, getting to her feet and moving to stand next to Draco.

"Be that as it may," Draco went on, wrapping his arm around Ginny's waist, "I don't think you're considering the big picture here."

"And what is the bigger picture here, Draco?" Ron demanded, whipping around to face his only sister's boyfriend. "The only picture here is that your godfather, who is currently on the run Merlin knows where, has left Harry, pregnant, and alone—"

"He doesn't know," Harry whispered, staring at the floor through a veil of tears.

Hermione glared at Draco and Ron. "Don't go fighting about sides right now," she said firmly to the both of them, her temper nearly reaching its boiling point. "None of this is good for Harry, can't you see that?" she whispered, and immediately moved closer to Harry, and placed a hand upon his shoulder. "Harry, what do you mean he doesn't know?"

Harry took a shuddering breath, and found he couldn't bear to look at any of them. "When Ron went with you to visit your parents, and Molly and Arthur went to Romania, and Ginny and Draco went to France, Severus sent me a Portkey to come and see him," he whispered, his shoulders trembling as he attempted to hold his sobs in.

"Merlin, Harry, those are usually controlled by the ministry," Hermione breathed. "That's beyond dangerous, although it does showcase now much he wanted to see you..."

Harry nodded, a jerking movement, but still didn't look over at her. "I took the Portkey, and it was to a safehouse somewhere—I don't know where," he admitted, cursing himself for not getting that information.

"Is that when you got pregnant, Harry?" Ginny asked tentatively.

Harry shook his head. "No. I got pregnant on Halloween," he replied.

"Merlin, Snape is really pulling out all the stops to see him," Ginny observed.

"What happened after Christmas, Harry?" Hermione asked, and finally managed to turn him around, and, with a shocked, "Oh, Harry!" he suddenly crumpled and threw himself into her arms, bending his head to sob upon her shoulder.

"I don't know where it went wrong," he said, his voice breaking. "We make love, and it was as brilliant as it always was," he went on, hating himself for coming so undone by this, but his weak spot had officially been tapped, and there was no way to stop it. "Afterwards, we took a bath, and I mentioned that Bill had proposed to Fleur..."

"Oh, Merlin," Ron said quietly, having a vague idea where all of this was going.

"Severus promptly said that he didn't see marriage a part of his future, and seemed to be pushing me away, so I got out of there, dressed, used the Portkey, and left," he breathed, letting go of Hermione and wrapping his arms around himself. "I didn't tell anyone, of course, and Severus hasn't moved to contact me. I even sent him a bloody birthday gift, but...nothing..." His voice broke then, and he covered his face in his hands.

"Harry?" Hermione whispered, placing a hand upon his shoulder again.

"I love him, Hermione," Harry whispered, slowly lifting his hands from his face as he said it. "I don't know when it started, but I love him, and I can't live without him. And now that there's a child on the way, I don't know what I'll do..."

"Do you want it, Harry?" Ron asked.

"Of course I bloody well do!" Harry said through his tears.

"Then, what's the problem?" Draco questioned.

"Sirius," Harry whispered.

Ginny sighed, shaking her head. "This just keeps getting worse and worse," she said quietly. "I mean, Sirius always has to make a jab at Snape's expense, no matter what the situation, and can always twist it for his childish and bullying benefit."

"You're not wrong," Hermione told her with a nod. "I mean, I think Sirius is an amazing person, and it's so unfortunate that he paid a debt to society for twelve years in Azkaban when he was innocent the entire time, but that doesn't mean he should continue treating Snape like trash, just because of a petty, schoolboy rivalry."

Ron sighed, his shoulders slacking. "In this instance, I have to agree," he admitted. "No bloke deserves to be led to his own death by anyone, especially when they're all kids. Our age," he said, and shook his head in revulsion.

"Do you have a plan, Harry?" Hermione wanted to know.

Harry swallowed. "Get through the rest of the year, and wait for my birthday," he said. "Then, I'll be of age, and I can go to Gringotts and get my hands on all the money and property my family reportedly left me."

"You would leave Grimmauld?" Draco asked.

Harry nodded. "For the sake of my child, yes," he replied. "I think Sirius would be a bit disappointed in me for getting pregnant, but he'd be outright enraged once he connected the dots and figured out who the father is."

"You're probably right there, mate," Ron said quietly.

"What will you do?" Ginny wanted to know.

"Pick a property, and hopefully there's a salvageable one," Harry admitted. "The baby is due right before my birthday, but, hopefully, Gringotts can look over that fact, given the circumstances that I'll be practically homeless before then..."

"Just come by the Burrow, mate," Ron told him. "Say that you want to have some peaceful country live during your last summer before Hogwarts."

Harry shrugged. "Dunno if that'll work. Sirius was pretty torn up when I made some excuse not to come for Easter..."

"He came to Hogwarts under Dumbledore's orders the next day, and saw you then..."

"I know, 'Mione," Harry told her, "but he also saw me fait..."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "And he believed you when you said you had a stomach bug," she told him shortly.

Harry smirked at her, his shoulders deflating as he lowered his eyes towards his stomach again and shook his head. "Guess we'll just have to wait," he said softly. "Something's got to happen, hasn't it? I wonder what it'll be..."

~*~

Armed with Hermione's new and improved Wolfsbane potion, Harry journeyed to Remus's rooms to act as go-between yet again for Remus and Tonks, precisely three days after he had told his friends about his condition. Knowing that it was entirely possible that the man could figure out his pregnancy, due to the wolf's heightened sense of smell, Harry decided to take it in stride, knowing that Remus would likely be more understanding. Harry left the potion in Remus's room while the man showered before the transformation, and Harry methodically put up the Locking and Portal Spells as he waited in the man's office.

Since Remus needed supervision, Madam Pomfrey had arranged it where he could miss his first two hours of class tomorrow—which was double potions—and be excused from an assignment that day, all to look after the man. Harry already had a good bed transfiguration spell down, and had asked Dobby to bring him his pillow before bedtime. The house-elf would also be on hand to provide breakfast for Remus and Harry tomorrow, and Harry had decided to inform Remus of his pregnancy then.

Harry pulled out a charms essay he was working on via the book Chadwick's Charms, which was fascinating, due to the fact that it had been approved literature for Ilvermorny's students. It was Harry's task to discover the differences between charm usage and spell work between Great Britain and the United Kingdom, and Harry was all too happy to do so. He had heard from Hermione, however, about "pregnancy brain", and was worried about his final exams, when it came time to take them, that he would forget everything he'd learned that year.

It was around eleven, after Harry had had some pudding in the form of an Eton mess, that he was ready for bed. Using the Bed Conjuring Spell that Hermione had taught him, he moved the chairs beside the fireplace across the room to accommodate the rather large piece of furniture. It was made complete with the pillow that Dobby had considerately provided him with, and Harry felt secure as he tucked himself in, and pulled the curtains around him. He didn't hear Remus crying out, and that was probably a good thing. He had spoken to Tonks a few moments ago, letting the witch know that he would contact her immediately should the need arise, as his eyes grew heavy, and he succumbed to sleep.

It was the light creeping in from his makeshift bed curtains that awoke him the next day, just as the clock in the courtyard chimed the eighth hour. Pushing himself out of bed and getting to his feet, he hastily casted a Cleaning Charm upon himself, including a Teeth Polishing one, and changed into the change of clothes Dobby had left folded upon the chair. He crossed the room and tentatively knocked upon Remus's bedroom door.

"I'll be out in a moment, Harry," the man called.

"Great," Harry replied. Turning around, Harry vanished the bed, knowing that Dobby would be along with their breakfast soon, as he could ask the elf to return his pillow back to his bed in the dorm then. He moved the chairs back into their proper places before the fire and set about tidying up his school papers and such, which he placed back inside his bag and perched upon a seat, and waited for the man to come out.

Remus stepped out a moment later, just after Dobby had cracked in with their breakfast, and vanished with Harry's pillow. He smiled at Harry and moved to sit across from him, and took up a rasher from the plate. "I hope I wasn't too loud last night."

Harry shook his head. "Barely heard you," he replied, stabbing at an egg with his fork.

Remus nodded at him. "Ravenous, aren't we?"

Harry shrugged. "Sixteen," he replied.

Remus gave a little hum in response to that, methodically chewing his rasher. "It doesn't have anything to do with you being pregnant, does it?" he asked candidly.

Harry dropped his fork onto his plate of eggs and looked up at Remus. "Are you superior senses of smell at work here?" he guessed.

Remus gave a nod at that. "Perhaps, and they've not been wrong before." He finished chewing his first rasher and picked up a second. "Am I wrong?"

Harry shook his head, sinking into his chair. "No," he replied, "you're not wrong about me being pregnant, Remus."

Remus let out a short sigh, taking his time with his second rasher, chewing it carefully before swallowing it. "And, I take it, that Severus is the father?"

Harry gave a slight nod at that. "He is."

"I see."

Harry swallowed, hoping beyond hope that the outcome of the conversation would be a positive one. "Are you angry with me?"

Remus shook his head. "No, of course not." He hesitated for a moment. "I take it that you were unaware that wizards could become pregnant?"

"Yes," Harry affirmed.

"Living in the Muggle world can give you preconceived notions," he admitted.

"Like people that are gay are stigmatized?" Harry asked.

Remus nodded, allowing that. "That is one example, yes; sexual orientation isn't really thought of as good or bad in the wizarding world, one way or the other. It just is," he stated. "As for the whole males having the ability to get pregnant, Muggles women only have the ability to get pregnant, and this all has to do with the magical core. Well, mostly," he amended.

Harry blinked. "There's another reason?"

"Well, yes. In times of war, population will dwindle, as the best fighters have frequently been positioned on the front lines since ancient times," he explained. "As such, witches and wizards have been given the ability to conceive, so as to preserve the population."

Harry leaned back in his chair, no longer so on edge. "I suppose that makes sense," he allowed, and pushed his eggs around his plate at his fork.

"How do you feel about the pregnancy, Harry?"

He sighed. "Well, I wish the other father was speaking to me," he admitted.

"Severus is not speaking to you?"

"No."

"Because of the pregnancy?"

"That's not it," Harry told him. "Severus doesn't know about the pregnancy. I haven't seen him since the Christmas holidays."

"Is that when this happened?"

"No," Harry replied, shaking his head. "This happened on Halloween."

Remus, who had been in the process of lifting up a third rasher, stopped himself and met Harry's eyes for a moment, and decided against the third rasher, and sat back in his chair. "Are you happy about this pregnancy, Harry?"

Harry nodded at him. "Yes, of course I am. I've always wanted a family, but once I found out that I was gay, I didn't think it would happen for me the natural way, you know? And there's also the matter of Riddle coming after me, having marked me for death when I was just a kid," he went on, his voice bitter. "What am I supposed to do, Remus?"

"Do you really want to know?"

Harry sighed, leaning forward and placing his plate of eggs onto the table as he put his head into his hands and massaged his temples. "I don't know," he admitted.

"Are you all right?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know that either," he said. "I mean, I love him, and I don't even know where he is..."

"What else, Harry?" Remus asked him.

Harry chuckled deeply. "Turning into a mind healer, are we?"

"I'm just trying to help you, Harry," Remus said gently.

"I don't know if anyone can help this, Remus," Harry whispered. "My lover has gone silent towards me since the Christmas holidays. He didn't even acknowledge that I'd gotten him a bloody birthday gift. And I've no idea where he is, or even if he..."

"What, Harry?" Remus asked softly.

Harry looked up then, willing himself not to cry. "I don't even know if he loves me," he said quietly, and Remus looked shocked at the declaration.

~*~

"Harry, I know you've a lot on your mind right now," Hermione said, her voice bordering on impatience, a week after Harry had told Remus about his pregnancy, as well as the fact that he was convinced that Severus didn't love him. "Harry, are you listening?"

Harry sighed. "Sorry, 'Mione. What is it?"

Hermione sighed, and shoved a piece of parchment in his direction. "A revised studying schedule," she said patiently. "Now that you don't have to do a practical exam for potions, and only have to turn in an essay—which I'm sure you'll be permitted notes and other research materials—you've just got charms, transfiguration, herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Care of Magical Creatures, and History of Magic, as you've opted to drop Astronomy and Divination, and good riddance," she said, and Harry sensed she only meant that for the final subject she'd mentioned.

Harry sighed. "Thanks, Hermione," he said, not wanting her to think for a minute that he wasn't grateful for all her help.

Hermione, who was sitting beside him in the Gryffindor common room, peered closer at him. "I sense that there's something else going on in your head," she said.

Harry smirked. "Turning into Trelawney, are we?"

Hermione made a face. "Merlin, I hope not," she said. "But what's going on, Harry? Is there something bothering you, other than the obvious?"

"It's not a bother, more like a question," Harry replied.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Can I help?"

"I was wondering if you'd come with me to the hospital wing," Harry told her. "This was the first time I had a chance to fit in Madam Pomfrey to tell me the sex."

Hermione grinned. "You want me there with you for that?"

Harry nodded. "Only if you don't mind. As godmother..."

Hermione let out a squeal. "You want me to be godmother?!"

"Yes," Harry said.

Hermione squealed again and threw her arms around him. "Of course I'll go, and I'd love to be godmother to the little darling!" she replied.

Harry and Hermione walked arm in arm down to the hospital wing; Draco and Ginny were flying around the Quidditch pitch with Ron before dinner, and Harry and Hermione had promised to join them later, after the appointment. They stepped inside, and, once Harry explained to Madam Pomfrey that he wanted Hermione there, the matron was very supportive. She had Harry lie back upon a bed hidden by screens and lift up his vest and button-down, while Hermione was permitted to stand by and hold his hand.

"All right, then," Madam Pomfrey said, once she had the machine all set up, and had put the gel onto Harry's exposed stomach. She brought the wand down and gently applied pressure to Harry's distended belly, and the whooshing sound of the heartbeat promptly filled the ears of the pregnant wizard, the mediwitch, and Hermione Granger.

"That's the heartbeat?" Hermione breathed.

"Yes, Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey told her.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Harry asked, and Hermione nodded.

"All right," Madam Pomfrey went on, steering the wand about. "And there's the baby," she said proudly, and Harry's eyes filled with tears while Hermione let out a soft gasp.

"This is amazing," she whispered.

"It is," Harry whispered back.

"And you did want to know the sex, Harry?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

Harry nodded. "Yes, I did," he told her.

"Well, you and Baby Girl Potter are doing splendidly," Madam Pomfrey announced.

Harry and Hermione immediately looked at each other. "A girl!" Harry whispered, his voice and expression one of awe.

"This is so exciting, Harry!" Hermione crowed.

Madam Pomfrey continued to break down what they were seeing on the screen for another few moments before she shut off the monitor, and provided pictures for Harry. Using a Cleaning Charm, she spelled the gel off from his belly, permitting Harry to pull his shirt and vest down and regarded him. "Keep up with the walks around the grounds, Harry, for getting plenty of fresh air is wonderful in pregnancy," she told him. "And, as Dobby has reported, you've been doing wonderfully with your diet. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, Madam Pomfrey," Harry replied, before waving to her and walking outside of the hospital wing with Hermione.

"How are you feeling?" she asked as they walked. "Okay?"

"It just seems more real now," he said, caressing his stomach.

Hermione nodded. "I can imagine," she replied.

Harry swallowed, and stopped walking, and Hermione immediately stopped her progress down the corridor as well. "Hermione?"

"Yes?"

Harry sighed, the tears coming unbidden to his eyes. "What if Severus doesn't want either of us?" he whispered, and Hermione promptly stepped forward, yanking Harry into her arms and offering words of comfort, as her best friend sobbed on her shoulder for the second time since his pregnancy, and likely the fiftieth time since he'd known her, and something told her that it wouldn't be the last.