The Forbidden Fantasy

Chapter 12

Authors note

This chapter is in Pansy's point of view, and some in Harry's point of view.

I felt the need to help you guys see how the life of the other couples are.

This chapter will depict the seventh day of the Baby Project, so Pansy will be seven months pregnant.

I am making Pansy very out of character than the Harry Potter series, she will be weak and vulnerable.

Harry will also be out of character, and this will be more of a dark Harry rather than the gentlemanly and kind Harry we know from the seven books.

Neville and Luna will also have an important part in this story.

This same day, that is the seventh day of the Baby Project, will be uploaded in the Dramione version probably the next week, or before that. You never know me.

The link I put in the top is a Tamil song which would go really well with the chapter. If you guys want to get into a new music genre, check out the song.

Well, I hope you enjoy the chapter...

Love,

Anakha

I woke up with a cold sweat, the words still ringing in my ears. It was always the same,

"YOU ARE A DISGRACE TO ME."

"I WILL DISOWN YOU FROM THIS FAMILY."

"DON'T DARE TO DISOBEY ME, YOU FILTH THAT CALL HERSELF MY DAUGHTER."

"YOU ARE WORTHLESS."

"WHY DIDN'T YOU MAKE THAT MALFOY BOY FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU. YOU ARE OF NO USE."

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"Let me pleasure you sweetheart. I know my way around the bed."

"Come to me."

"Such a good little whore, aren't you?"

"Kiss me Pansy dear."

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"NO!!!!", I wanted to yell. I wanted to fight him off when he left his marks around me. I wanted to shout at my mother, who merely patted my head gingerly with her manicured nails, when I told her how he had broken me. I almost wanted to hit her when she told me this was life, and I most definitely wanted to hit her when she left me and my father heartbroken, his anger taking the better of him, which usually ended with me strewn into the dungeon, starving, beaten and bruised.

I had been through all of this for too many times, making myself numb against the presence of a drunk man, sometimes my father, above me, groaning in pleasure, knowing that each of them were breaking a piece of the innocent girl I had once been off into somewhere dark, breaking me to an extent where I could not lead a normal life again.

I looked at Potter who was sleeping on the bed besides me, his dark hair fanning out on the pale blue pillow, as messy as ever. He still had a hero complex; I was sure of it. I had seen it when he had helped the Weasley girl come back to her senses when she had gotten to know that she would be marrying Zabini. He loved her, or at least liked her, I was sure.

His face had darkened when he heard that I was going to be his wife, I had known that he would hate me, but I had expected some sort of cordiality from him. But here he was, sleeping like nothing had happened when I was on the opposite side of the bed, shouting until my throat turned hoarse dur to nightmares that never failed to haunt me, even a single day. I was stricken with Morning sickness; he had nor even come to hold my hair back or even comfort me. He was cold and distant to me.