VIII

"B-but how – ?" Hermione finally found her voice after several long minutes of forced breathing.

"That hardly matters now," interrupted Voldemort in cold tone. "Ms. Granger, I suggest you put up the Secrecy Veil and Silencing Barrier now," he added in clipped tone.

"Wha – ?"

"Someone's coming up the stairs," Lupin confirmed tensely.

Hermione bristled and hastily waved her wand muttering all necessary incantations in one breath.

Harry let out a breath of relief simultaneously with the Dark Lord's sigh, when they all felt the magical barriers appearing and the faint sounds from the outside disappearing into muffling silence.

"So – ?" Hermione prompted carefully, looking expectantly at Harry, and then – at Voldemort.

"So – what? I told you already everything of importance," in hushed tone responded Harry. "We have another complication, as well, though I am starting to think they are related to each other."

"What other complication?" Hermione suddenly lost all nervousness in view of interesting topic of research.

Harry glanced at the Dark Lord with unvoiced question and received a curt nod in reply.

"Our magic. It's tangled. To be precise, he doesn't have access to his own magical resources and instead takes my magic when casting."

"It's blocked from my conscious reach and goes elsewhere," with a grimace elaborated Voldemort. "I suppose it feeds the fetus, actually," he winced. "Rather inconvenient, I must say."

"I beg to differ," Harry snorted, "this way you cannot curse anyone else, and, when you try to curse me, your spells backfire," he smirked with satisfaction.

"That can harm the baby, you know," Hermione interjected in low tone.

"I guessed as much," Harry replied. "And in the end it still hurts me, in a round-about way – he transmits everything through our mental connection."

Voldemort hissed in annoyance.

"Fine! Go and spill all of our precious secrets to your little friends," he gritted.

"Hey, Lucius here is not my friend! He's yours!" Harry protested. "And that's not all our secrets, but just one! And I think it's important for the case!"

"That's just your opinion," Voldemort grumbled.

"You're just pissy 'cause that's me who knocked up you and not the opposite," Harry returned.

"I can still 'transmit' every morning sickness to you," with a dry humor retorted Voldemort. "And when the time comes – the delivery pains!" His smirk widened.

Harry shuddered.

"Spare me," he snorted.

"Guys, guys!" Hermione waved a hand between their faces. "Back to business, please!"

"You do not order me around, Ms. Granger," grumbled Voldemort.

"I am begging you, Mr. Riddle, not ordering!" Hermione corrected him.

Voldemort winced. 'Bloody mudblood!'

"Ouch! Tom! That was rude!" Harry called out aloud. "Who said something about not insulting those present behind their backs?"

"You want me to repeat that aloud?" Voldemort asked surprised.

"Of course, not!" Harry huffed. Then turned to Hermione, "'Mione, would you be so kind as to not call this moron by his father's name? It irks him something fierce. I won't be responsible if next time he slips up and starts throwing wandless curses using my magic, just for everyone's information." His gaze returned to the Dark Lord: "I suggest you invent something less pompous than 'the Dark Lord Voldemort' for everyday use, then, if you're so hellbent on not being called by your birth name."

"I suppose, 'Tom' is fine," reluctantly growled Voldemort.

"Okay, Mr. Tom, let us return to the earlier discussion," Hermione sighed.

"Just Tom is enough. No 'mister'," The Dark Lord gritted, wincing. "And you're right, let us go back to business."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, but nodded.

"Where do we start researching then? I don't know what libraries or bookstores would have something on male pregnancies. Frankly, I am not really sure there is anything at all written on this topic," Hermione admitted.

"Old families' libraries. If the necessary books exist, they might be found there. No public libraries would held such texts, I don't think. And hardly any bookstore, either Light or Dark, would have such books. I would know if myself or any of my people stumbled upon this topic in the books anytime in their lives. So the old families with Death Eaters or former Knights of Walpurgis among them are out of the question."

"Knights of Walpurgis?" Hermione asked curious.

"Old name for those who supported my cause back in the forties," waving a hand in dismissal, responded Voldemort. "I suppose we could start with the Potter and Weasley libraries, if you have access to them, of course," he added with a pointed look at the twins.

Harry smacked him upside the head.

"No insinuations!" he demonstrated clenched fist to the glaring Dark Lord. "And besides, I don't have access to the Potter's library myself!"

"What do you mean? Sure, you should have – ?" Voldemort started with surprise.

"Remus?" Harry looked at Lupin. "Do you know why? Or where is it at all? Godric's Hollow?"

"Hardly. Your father's parents lived in Stinchcombe, a small village in Gloucestershire. The Potter family originated there. Their Manor is still there, on the outskirts of the village. As far as I am aware, it had been put into mothballs for long term preservation after the death of your grand-parents and until the time you will reach the age of inheritance."

"But I can visit it, right?" Harry asked unsure.

Remus shrugged.

"It maybe possible, but I am afraid you'd need the permission of your legal magical guardian ans well as the key and a password to bypass the preservation spell-net."

"Guardian? What guardian?" Harry looked at Remus with wide eyes.

"Dumbledore," Malfoy interjected. "He is your magical guardian, and quite possibly the holder of everything belonging to Potters. Until you come of age, of course."

"And that is – when?" Harry asked, his face darkening.

"Five weeks ago," Lucius snorted and sent a meaningful look his lord's way.

"Wh-what?!" Harry stuttered in surprise and shock.

"Technically, the wizard is emancipated, that is – comes of age, when he sires an offspring. In old days that was done so that young lords would take responsibility for their debaucheries."

"How so?" Hermione asked in wonder. "Should it not do the opposite – encourage them to flirt with girls early?"

"On one hand you are right, Ms. Granger," Lucius nodded. "On the other, imagine such a lord facing his own son's early emancipation, because he showed his son a certain example by his own early marriage?"

"Mar-riage?" issued Voldemort tensely.

"Yes, my Lord, because early emancipation due to impregnation of a woman at young age automatically enters them both into marital contract. Magical in itself, of course."

"How long?" the Dark Lord let out through gritted teeth, going very white in the face.

"Pardon me?"

"How much time do we have?! Until the marriage should be completed?!"

"What?!" Harry's voice went painfully high in pitch. "What do you mean 'marriage'?!"

"What part of 'magical marital contract' do you not understand, Potter?" in rough voice quiped Voldemort. "Marital pertains to an agreement and obligation to enter a marriage, magical contract binds its participants with their own magic. And in case of unfulfilment the magic goes 'puff!' and we are squibs!" The last word was uttered in a hoarse voice.

Harry gulped with difficulty and looked pleadingly at Lucius.

"Are you absolutely certain?"

"Of what, Mr. Potter? Your emancipation? It comes into action automatically and is moved by magic, and not by some civil services worker. The contract is the same, you have a hundred days from the moment of your emancipation to enter a marriage with a person with whom you've sired an offspring. Otherwise the magic itself comes into play and, like my Lord said, you become squibs."

"Hold on, for a second," Hermione interrupted the discussion with quivering voice, "You said 'sire an offspring', but isn't it the birth of a baby?"

"I may have accidentaly used incorrect term, Ms. Granger. The better word would be 'concieve', not 'sire', as, you're correct, usually that term pertains to a birth of a baby, not the act of, hmm, coercion." Lucius pursed his lips and shook his head. "Pardon me for my crudeness, my Lord. I simply meant that now, after five weeks have passed already, you have about two months ahead of you to organise the wedding and enter a marriage with Mr. Potter, unless both of you want to loose your magic."

"That's undebatable!"

"Of course not!"

Harry and Voldemort reacted almost in unison, startling other participants of the discussion.

"Harry, may I talk to you for a second?" Lupin suddenly requested, motioning towards the bedroom door.

Harry winced:

"I think I know what you want to talk about," he muttered annoyed. "Fine, let's go. Hermione, can you, please, make a Silencing Barrier for the bedroom? I suspect it'd be useful."

The girl nodded and quickly spelled the door and walls around it.

"Here."

"Thank you. Come on, Remus," Harry went ahead, not waiting for the werevolf.

"So, speak up, Moony," Harry urged, after Lupin came inside and closed the door.

"Harry," Lupin began uncertainly. "Maybe you should consider the other options, aside from marriage?" he probed carefully.

"Like what? Loosing us both our magic? You think his dowfall is worth my magic?" Harry raised the brow.

"We won't love you any less, if you become a squib," Remus tried to assure him.

"And is his failure worth a child's life?" Harry asked quietly. "My child's life?"

"Wh-what are talkng about?"

"Moony, I am no medic or scholar, but am pretty sure, that during male pregnancy a child is supported by the bearer's magic. Or maybe even by both parents' magic, who knows. And now think: what'll happen to a child concieved by magic and supported by it while in a womb, if that magic suddenly disappears? Will it survive? I am uncertain it can hold on till its birth, as the bearer's body is not intended for carying a child at all by nature and only magic allows this. So I ask again, are you suggesting I put my child's life on the line? And who said, that without magic he'd be less of a Dark Lord he is now? Look at him. He should be vulnerable in this state, he doesn't have access to his own magic already, but still – he remains the same. His right-hand man didn't abandon him, and his thinking and methods didn't change either."

"Magic is still his most powerful weapon, without it he'd be weakened enough – "

"Go on, try it. He is bearing a child he was not ready for, he is without his magic and in general tired and weakened after everything we went through. I even may give you back your wand. If you manage to at least scratch him, I promise to concider your words."

Harry shoved Remus' wand into his hands and went out of the bedroom without another word.

Lupin slowly exited the bedroom after Harry, his posture falsely relaxed and gaze downcast. Before anyone could react to the wand clearly seen in his hand, he was firing a curse in the Dark Lord's direction, followed by a whole string of spells and curses afterwards.

None of them hit their target.

Most of them were deflected by Voldemort himself with the help of either the furniture or tableware. One was caught by Lucius' wandless shield. And the only spell, which found a target, hit Harry, who jumped in front of Voldemort, acting as a living shield, although in the very last second he was roughly shoved to the side from the line of fire by the Dark Lord's hand.

In the next blink of an eye the beam of light and the spell reached their target, and both men let out a simultaneous yowl of pain, doubling over and immediately dropping to their knees, their hands held to their chests and stomachs.

"Lupin!!!" Voldemort growled, in one fluid motion, not hindered by his obvious injury, jumping the werevolf and reaching out with his hands towards the man's throat.

Harry coughed and with a grunt stood up, then tried to repeat the same action, though he was on the contrary attempting to stop Voldemort and shield Lupin from his wrath.

In the end they both collided with each other and stumbled to the ground under Lupin's feet, succesfully dropping him in the same heap in the process.

"Harry!" Hermione yelped, attempting to run towards the fallen men.

Voldemort, however, was the first to stand up, or rather kneel, after he managed to untangle himself from the others and wrestled Lupin's wand from him, during their short fight freeing Harry's form, as well.

It looked more like it was Voldemort, who was after all hit by the spell, and not Harry: the Dark Lord was nursing his midsection, his face scrunched in obvious pain, and a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth mirrored the one from Harry's.

"What have you done, Lupin?!" growled Voldemort, still holding one hand to his own abdomen, and threateningly pointing the wand, he won, at its former master, with his other hand.

Harry was holding a hand to the side of his head with already forming bruise, and holding his other hand very carefully to his chest, his face ashen.

"I-I – " stammered Lupin.

"Lucius, bind him!" barked Voldemort, "Here!" he threw Malfoy's wand, which he has just picked up from whre Harry had dropped it earlier, to Lucius.

Malfoy quickly uttered the incantation, successfully roping the werevolf.

"Harry – ?" Voldemort inquired, not looking at the boy.

"Alright," Harry grunted.

Voldemort turned his attention to the twins, who managed to avoid the confrontation all toghether.

"Gentlemen, may I borrow your bathroom for a moment?" he asked coldly, not a muscle twitching on his face, which was turning more and more greenish with any passing second.

"R-right. Bathroom," one of the red-heads gulped and pointed to the non-descript door near the bedroom entrance. "Over there."

"Thank you," Voldemort let out with cold politeness, then without any rush calmly proceded to the directed door and disappeared inside, tightly closing it behind himself.

"Harry," Hermione sniffled and at last rushed to the side of her friend. "Are you really okay?"

"I'll live," Harry muttered through gritted teeth, then his face, too, turned very green, and he gulped with audible difficulty. "Shit!" he swore under his breath, jumping to his feet and rushing to the same door, where the Dark Lord gone to earlier with much less grace and decorum.

"Har – " Hermione's worried call was cut off by the once again tightly closed door.

~8~8~8~

When Harry exited the bathroom with Voldemort on his heels, he was expecting anything from the coup d'etat of the Light side of their little clique, to the single-handedly performed act of Dark vengeance by Malfoy. Instead, another feeling of deja-vu fell on him: the twins, Hermione and Malfoy calmly drank their tea, while Lupin sat, tightly bound to his chair and even gagged, though he, too, had a cup of tea at the table in front of him. Judging by the twins snickering and smirking, that was their idea of vengeance.

"Are you okay now, Harry?" Hermione asked in uncertain tone. Then, after a brief contemplation, looked at the Dark Lord: "Tom, how are you feeling?"

"I am as good as can be expected, Ms. Granger, thank you for your concern," in a cold tone responded Voldemort, at the same time with Harry's short "I'm fine" said with a tired smile.

They both came up to the table and sat at their respective chairs. Hermione stood up to pour them new cups of tea.

"Chamomile, Tom?" she suggested in domestic tone.

"Yes, please," he drawled.

"Harry?"

"Yeah, thanks, 'Mione."

"So, Mr. Lupin, what should we do with you?" in a conversational tone inquired Voldemort.

By a inviting gesture of his hand Malfoy removed the gag from the werevolf's mouth.

"Harry, I'm sorry," Lupin muttered. "I didn't expect you to jump in front of that spell."

"What?! I shoud have stepped aside and allowed my unborn child to be hit with a potentially letal curse?!" Harry exclaimed irked.

"But – "

"No, Remus! No 'buts'! Really, I hadn't thought that my words would be taken literaly! I considered you mature adult with brains, no bold and idiotic Griffindor teenager as you appear to be. I would have expected something like this from Sirius, but you was always the level headed one!"

"Harry, please!" Remus' face contorted with emotional pain. "If Sirius would be here now he'd be doing the same – "

"You know, I think, he'd be supporting me and my decisions, actually, instead of attempting to attack my – " Harry coughed, going a bit red in the face, but found the voice again quickly, "my bethrotted and my unborn heir!"

Remus shook his head, a pleading look on his face:

"Harry, you don't need to pretend – "

"But I am NOT!!!" Harry rose his voice. "You don't know what we've been through, you don't know anything about him!" he pointed to the Dark Lord, who sat back with impassive face, calmly observing the unfolding drama. "I have said earlier, had I not? We might had not anticipated the outcome, but the act itself was mutual. Or do you think he forced me to fuck him?! I wonder, how that could be done, if at all!" Harry shook his head, then fell back on his chair and hid his face in his hands with a groan. "Remus, I didn't think you're so under Dumbledore's thumb," he muttered into his hands. "You can do with him what you want, Tom, I don't care anymore," in harsh voice, muffled by his palms, finished Harry, slightly sliding down his chair tiredly.

"Oh, Harry, you're so generous," purred Voldemort suavely, "I don't know what to do with your grand offer, really," he added sardonically. "Should I kill him?" Harry bristled at his words. "Thought not," the Dark Lord smirked devilishly. "Then how about Obliviate? Ah, I forgot! I can't use my magic. What a pity! Then should I bodily strangle him after all?" the mockery in Voldemort's tone was growing more intense with each of his suggestions.

"Oh, will you stop already?!" Hermione interrupted angrilly. "Don't you have anything less violent in your arsenal? You are pregnant, for Morgana's sake!"

The Dark Lord hissed in outrage, his blood-red eyes flashing, and threw a hand her way, in a clear attempt of attack.

"I am not a bloody woman, girl!" he whispered in deadly undertone. "Don't you dare to imply – !" he was cut short by a smack upside his head from Harry.

"In the name of Merlin, Tom, stop being a pussy!" Harry exclaimed. "Nobody says you're a woman! What 'Mione is trying to say is that pregnancy should make a person kinder, more considerate to others – "

"Forget it, Potter! I am the Dark Lord Voldemort, I have no heart or feelings. This freak accident does not mean I am going to suddenly change into a spineless snivelling pansy you draw me as in your fantasies!"

"What?! 'Freak accident'?!" Harry jumped to his feet, sending daggers with his eyes to the similarly angry Voldemort, glaring at him in return. "You know, I think I just toss you out on the street and be done with it," Harry's voice dropped to the tired whisper. "Like Lupin said earlier, I don't doubt that my friends would love me the same if I became a squib. I lived in Muggle world before and can still survive without magic. Bet, you can't, but I don't care anymore. Get out!" he pointed towards the entrance door.

"Harry!" Hermione tried to reason with him, but he just shook his head. "No. I am done. Get out now, Tom, before I threw you out with my own hands," Harry made a meaningful step to the still sitting Dark Lord. "Or do you want to test how my magic works against you?" Harry rose an eyebrow suggestively and slowly took out his wand, though he didn't yet pointed it at the Dark Lord.

"You wouldn't," Voldemort muttered unsure.

"Try me," Harry spat, before gritting out an angry "Stupefy!" with a swish of his wand.

His spell went astray, but still both his and Voldemort's faces whitened, the Dark Lord swayed in his chair and only his steadying hand on the table's edge prevented his fall; Harry, on the other hand, didn't even attempt to stay upright, doubling over and falling to his knees with both his hands on his abdomen, shuddering and lowly moaning from pain, the next second after the spell left his wand and he dropped it to the ground with a loud clatter.

"What an idiot!" huffed Hermione, rushing at first to her friend, before the Dark Lord lost his balance after all, also falling to his knees beside Harry.

"Imbecile!" the Dark Lord hissed harshly, clutching Harry's shoulders and looking into his face with intense stare, while the boy rolled his eyes, fainting. "Lucius, enervate him!" he ordered, not releasing the body, and instead tightly clutching Harry's unconscious form to his chest.

"Yes, my Lord, of course," Malfoy murmured the incantation under his breath, trying to wake Harry, but, it seemed, the spell didn't work. The Dark Lord silently glared at his Leutenant and hissed threateningly in a lowl tone, "Sorry, my Lord. I'll repeat the spell right now," Malfoy promissed.

"Forget it!" after the second failed attempt barked the Dark Lord. "We'll retire for some rest, then, gentlemen, Ms. Granger," he suggested. "I suspect his body is simply too tired to wake right now. Lucius, stay on guard, and wake me if anything happens," the Dark Lord stood in one fluid motion, getting Harry into his hands with ease, and both of them disappeared inside the bedroom, the door closing behind the retreating forms.

~8~8~8~

Harry thought, the morning of this chaotic night was long overdue, when he came to his senses after the latest ordeal, in the strangest position yet to wake to: his head rested on one of the Dark Lord's shoulders, his own shoulder was embraced (as Harry couldn't find a better word for this) by Voldemort so tightly that there should already be forming a bruise under his hand. Maybe in different circumstances it would look rather romantic and domestic, but considering how they came to it, Harry thout, it was mildly disturbing to wake in the loving hands of the Dark Lord. And that what those were: loving hands. Because, despite the tightness of the grip, the gesture itself and peaceful look on Voldemort's face implied nothing wrong, and also – Harry felt it inside. In their intertwined minds, in this tight but still careful grip on his shoulder, in the trust the Dark Lord placed in him, even in spite of their earlier very violent fight, by sleeping calmly when there was a potential enemy armed with a wand, when he himself was unable to cast a single spell.

Harry shook his head in disbelief: his own thoughts occurred to him so mushy and girly, that he started to doubt that, possibly, the pregnancy could be contagious like a virus, and he was already there as well.

Voldemort hmm'ed in his sleep with a question to his tone.

"Ah, alright. I'm good," Harry muttered in a quiet whisper, not ready to face the man yet, so trying not to wake him, and made himself more comfortable on the offered shoulder and closed back his eyes in hopes to sleep some more of his tiredness off.

Unfortunately, his sleep never returned, instead a thousand thoughts and questions started their neverending dance in Harry's head: what should he do with the Dark Lord, how to solve the 'Remus problem', should he really speak with those he consider almost family and closest of his friends, at least, when they do something with the Dark Lord's loss of magic and it would be safer for –

Harry's thoughts stopped abruptly, like he came to the unbreakable wall inside his head: 'safer for' whom exactly? For the Dark Lord? He was deadly dangerous even without his wand and magic, Harry knew it and saw the confirmations pretty often these days. For Harry's friends? How they could be safe when there is the deadly dangerous Dark Lord with the full access to his magic out there? Even far away? And Harry was thinking of – what? Introducing them to each other?!

Harry's breathing became more rabid just from thinking this. He dared to throw a glance at Voldemort's face – he was still deep in sleep, it seemed, and the mental connection cofirmed this, too, so Harry calmed down, his thoughts returning and starting to waltz in an endless circle in his mind.