TITLE: Backwards
AUTHOR: Drake of Dross
EMAIL: litl_rainbow@yahoo.com
RATING: PG-13
PAIRING: HP/HG
SPOILERS: HP&tPS, POA
WARNINGS: MPREG
DISCLAIMER:
Harry Potter and associated characters and places are the property of JK Rowlings.
SUMMARY:
Hermione's thirst for knowledge leaves Harry up the duff.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
This story is an entry in the Harry Potter Mpreg Fuh-Q-Fest (http://groups.yahoo.com/group/harrypottermpreg/)
Challenges:
22. Write a story that includes this line: "Mum, Dad, my boyfriend is pregnant." (Submitted by Lagoonlady)
23. Tell the story of Harry's pregnancy from Hermione's point of view. (Submitted by Lagoonlady)
Harry and I started dating after the pregnancy. Because of
the baby. While we haven't decided to marry yet, we both know that we
probably will unless the dating really goes awfully.
It all began at the beginning of our seventh year. I had found a new
potion in the restricted section. This was nothing unusual. I find a
lot of new things in the restricted section.
But this one struck me. I'm not entirely sure why. So the next time we
went to Hogsmeade, I bought the ingredients I would need for it. This
prompted Harry and Ron's interest, of course. So I told them about it,
and that I was going to brew it in Myrtle's bathroom.
It was an old book that I had found it in. Just recipes with no
description of what it does, or even what it's called; just how to make
them. I must admit to a certain amount of curiosity. I don't like not
knowing things. Why I picked that one is a mystery even to me. Because I recognized most of the ingredients, and knew I could get them, I suppose.
If I believed in Fate, I might blame that, but I don't.
I don't know what I had planned to do with the finished potion. Feed it
to a rat, probably. It's a very bad idea to drink unfamiliar potions.
None of the three of us would have taken it at any rate, and neither
would we have fed it to our familiars.
It took only a few hours to brew. We did it on a Sunday, so we wouldn't
miss classes or anything. It also has the additional benefit of being
one of those days that nobody really notices if people are around or
not. Most of our House mates probably thought we were in the library.
None of them ever go there on a Sunday.
Then because things always go wrong, because things always happen to
Harry, and because Myrtle scared me as I was bottling the finished
potion, I spilled it all over Harry.
Nothing seemed to happen. I cleaned it off his robes with a simple
cleansing spell, and told him to wash up immediately. The prefect's
bathroom was closest to where we were, so I let him in there. When he
came out he said he felt perfectly fine and normal. We assumed that it
was a potion that had to be ingested.
We were wrong.
It started small. Of course it did. A zygote is only a single cell.
But a few weeks later, the morning sickness began. Obviously, we didn't
know what it was at the time. We thought he was just ill. The flu or
some such thing. So he went to Madam Pomphrey.
That's when we learned the truth. Harry was pregnant. A paternity test (truly a misnomer in this case) revealed I
was the other parent. My best guess would be that happened because I
was either the first to touch him after he was affected or because I
did most of the potion while the boys watched.
I think it was Harry who started calling me "Dad" first. Naturally, I had to retaliate by calling him "Mum".
Harry was surprisingly good natured about the whole thing. Excited
even. He had never had much in the way of family, and if he couldn't
have parents of his own, being a parent was the next best thing.
I was just glad the potion hadn't turned out to be anything worse. I
mean, I found the wretched thing in the restricted section. I don't
intend to say I'm against having a kid; I do want one eventually. I
just thought I'd be done with school first.
Teen Pregnancy. Not something I had anticipated needing to
deal with. After all, there had been no premarital sex. But it was
something that Professor Snape, at least, considers far worse. Ignorant
potion brewing. It's entirely my fault, so I have to take
responsibility for my actions. Besides, I would never leave Harry to face something like this alone, even if I weren't at fault or the father.
Me. A father. Despite Ron and Harry's misconceptions our fourth year, I
am a girl. Girls do not dream of becoming fathers. They don't worry
about getting people other than themselves pregnant. They certainly
don't think about knocking up their male best friend.
Ron's been an angel, and I thank God and Merlin that we never started dating after all, or this would be very
weird. Weirder even than it is. His mum knew long before mine did. She
sent Harry all kinds of remedies and advice, and invited us both to the
Burrow for Christmas. We accepted, of course.
It was a few weeks after we found out that Harry began to show. We'd
already been calling each other "Dad" and "Mum" for most of that time.
Frankly, Lavender and Parvati were waiting for me to swell.
The distention of Harry's abdomen wasn't a lot yet, but it was starting
to be noticeable. One day, it just clicked for Seamus why it was Harry who was called "Mum". Not even the tale of Quirrel's possession spread as fast as the one one about Harry's pregnancy.
I am not entirely certain when we started dating. It just happened. We
never decided we should date. But one day I realized I was hold his
hand while we walked to Transfigurations. Then, that night, I noticed I
was sitting very
close to him on the sofa in the common room. That's when we made it
official. Of course, when we told this to Ron he looked at us funny,
and told us we were the last to know. To everyone else, we were
apparently already married.
Child or no child, Harry and I weren't ready to commit that far yet.
For the most part, the teachers were fairly understanding. Snape, of
course, didn't let us live it down, but that was to be expected on
three fronts. Snape was Snape was the first, Harry Potter was Harry
Potter was the second, and I made a mistake was the third. Of course he
couldn't just let it go.
I served two weeks of detention and lost fifty points from Gryffindor
for making a restricted potion without proper supervision. Harry, it
was decided, was going to suffer enough for his transgression, and Ron
got another 20 points knocked off Gryffindor plus one week of detention.
Probably the most stressful part about the whole thing, at least from
my perspective, was informing my parents about the situation. One
cannot just go up and say "Mum, Dad, my boyfriend is pregnant" to a
pair of muggle dentists.
After several drafts of letters trying to explain what had happened, I
gave up, and did just that. An owl winged its way home, carrying only
six words between its talons.
They were understandably confused and used the floo connection, as I
had shown them two summers before, to contact Dumbledore. I was called
out of History of Magic, which is probably the worst class to get taken
out of because nobody
else takes notes, and not everything Professor Binns says is in the
book. Which is to say, he occasionally paraphrases the text.
I learned the mistake of not giving my parents the full story in letter
form. Now I had to explain it in person, where I could see their
reactions. And Dumbledore was present as well, so he learned about the
bathroom we liked to use.
Dad was . . . understanding implies he had some clue about what
happened, but he pretended and did his best to give his support to
Harry and I and our child. Mum seemed to grasp a little bit more and
gave me the third degree for conducting chemistry experiments without
knowing precisely what I was doing or trying to achieve.
But she too told me that Harry and I and the baby were more than
welcome to live with them until we got our bearings and figured out
what to do with our lives now that we were going to have a kid.
Harry gratefully accepted when he heard the offer, and confided that he
had worried about where he was going to go once he finished at
Hogwarts. He certainly didn't want to go back to the Dursleys with a
baby in tow, and Sirius was still on the run.
So I sent my parents another owl, thanking them and telling them we
agreed to come home once we were done with school or the baby was born,
whichever came later, since a muggle hospital wouldn't know what to
make of a boy having a baby.
Harry's due date was the second week of June, which, coincidently, was
also examination week. I apologized profusely when I realized that, but
Harry just grinned and said maybe it would get him out of taking a test.
I, of course, had to lecture him about that.
Really, I was continually impressed by how well Harry was taking the
whole thing. He was tired more than normal, occasionally complained
about aches, and had to quit Quiddich, but he was surprisingly happy.
He claimed it was all just a plot to get Ron to carry his bag around
for him.
I had offered, but Ron insisted I carried around enough books for an
entire Quiddich team already. From what I've seen of Quiddich players'
study habits, I don't see why that should prevent me from carrying
Harry's books as well. When I told him as much, Ron only laughed and
wouldn't give me the bookbag.
When the baby kicked for the first time . . . I have never seen such a
look of sublime delight on Harry's face. After that, he just sort of .
. . glowed. He was beautiful.
It was around that time that we realized that we were going to be parents.
I mean, really realized it. Well, Harry might have before, but I
hadn't. I'd known intellectually, but I hadn't really given it much
thought.
I wanted to go to University. It had been my dream since I was a little
girl. Which subject I would focus in had varied over the years, but I
had never wavered from the plan to attend.
Harry had to fight Voldemort. He wouldn't consider doing anything else until that was cleared up. He'd need Auror training.
But we can't raise a baby with both of us going to school. I already
felt like we were imposing on my parents, and they both worked. I
couldn't ask them to watch our child, too.
We talked about it. Eventually, we decided that it was more critical
that he get trained as an Auror. He was going to fight Voldemort
whether he wanted to or not. It would be better for all concerned
(excluding Voldemort of course) that Harry be trained.
I would take classes part-time, arranging my schedule to watch the baby
the when nobody else could. As yet, we had no source of income. My
parents would give us free room and board, and Harry had inherited
quite a stash of galleons, but tuition does not come cheaply, and most
scholarships are for full time students.
By February, Harry had been accepted into the Auror Training Program.
We were, thankfully, not required to pay the usual fees for that. He
was, after all, the Boy Who Lived.
Also in February, I got word back from Merlin University. My grades,
teacher recommendations, and essay had evidently impressed them a great
deal. I was not only accepted as a part-time student, but they
suggested I reconsider coming full-time, for which they would provide a
full academic scholarship.
I was also given a great deal of literature about married student
housing and child-care services. I can only assume the admissions
director recognized my name from the Daily Prophet article that
announced Harry's pregnancy. Or maybe one of the teachers mentioned it
in their recommendation.
In any case, we decided that it was ideal. So I wrote back to the
University, accepting full-time status, and signing up for day care. I
still registered for a class load much smaller than I would have if I
were by myself, though.
By mid-April, Harry was waddling to all his classes. He was
embarrassed, but I just gave him a peck on the cheek and told him he
was cute. Ron rolled his eyes, and I don't know if Harry believed me,
but he did smile back at me and let the subject drop.
By late May, he was staying pretty much in Gryffindor Tower. He still
went to History of Magic, Charms, and Transfiguration, but the dungeons
and the greenhouses were too far a trek for him. I brought up his
assignments, and tutored him on what he missed.
He got Dumbledore's permission to delay taking his NEWTS and final examinations until after the baby was born.
As the time grew nearer, we talked about names. He wanted to called the
baby Lily or James depending on whether it was girl or a boy. While
those are okay names, and Harry's parents were probably very nice
people, something just struck me as off about those names. I don't
know, maybe I was getting into being a parent and didn't want the name
of my child to be so . . . Potter.
After some argument we came to the compromise of Molly Lila Potter if
we had a girl or Ronald James Potter if we had a boy. Ron had been
recruited as Godfather almost the minute we found out Harry was
pregnant, of course. Ginny agreed to be Godmother.
It was June third when Harry went into labour. Late at night. After
bringing Harry down to the common room, Ron came running into the girls
dorm to tell me my kid was on the way. Together, we escorted Harry to
the Hospital wing.
It took several hours. I held Harry's right hand through it all, while
Ron had his left. At the end, Madam Pomphrey put a perfect little
bundle into Harry's arms. The new mother's smile was blinding, and I
felt a rush of love for them both.
After informing us we had a girl, the mediwitch bustled Ron out,
leaving us together with our very own daughter. "Hello, Molly," Harry
said softly, brushing a finger along her red face.
Looking at her, still screaming bloody murder in her mother's arms, I
knew, despite everything being backwards and how corny it sounded,
everything would work out. "I love you, Harry," I told my boyfriend,
sitting down on the bed beside him, kissing first him, then our
squalling daughter. "Will you marry me?"
"Do I get a ring?" he teased, smiling tenderly to take away the embarrassment of proposing without having one on hand.
"Of course," I agreed flippantly, as Molly's screams subsided in favor
of the bottle Harry offered. "A gold marriage band at the wedding. I
just wasn't sure if I should get the diamond engagement ring sized for
me or you."
