Dear Mr. Potter

Chapter Forty-Two

Harry sat on the hospital bed nervously as Madame Pomfrey and Hermione were having a quiet discussion further away. He held the black scarf like a shield that warded off all bad things. Hermione and the medi-witch glanced at him and put there heads back together. Harry wondered if this was what it was going to be like from now on. People talking about him right in front of him, making decisions without consulting him. Oh wait, they already did all that. Harry chuckled and again the two witches looked at him in concern and then went back to their discussion. Harry tightened his grip on the scarf. Stupid thing anyway. He should have left it alone. Not gone after it and gotten caught. Then he could still be going about his merry way not worrying that he's a Bedlamite. Harry looked towards the door. What if he just ran? He could be out of the school before they could raise the alarm. He could find more soft stuff on the road. But what about Draco? Harry stalled his plans of escape when he thought about leaving behind the blonde. Well, Draco had said that he would never stop looking for him, so all Harry had to do was wait and Draco would catch him. Then they would go off and Lucius would build them a house on top of a mountain and no one would bother them and he could have all the walls lined with soft stuff. Oh no! That's a padded room he just thought of! He really was crazy! He had to get out of there now!

"Mister Potter, I have the results of my tests."

Harry started at the sound of Madame Pomfrey's voice. He looked up and saw that she had planted herself between him and the door. Hermione came and sat down beside him, taking his hand in her own. Oh no! This must be bad.

"I'm bonkers, aren't I? You're sending me away to a padded cell, aren't you?" Harry demanded, his heart pounding. His ears strained for the sound of Aurors or mean-looking orderlies flooing in to cart him off.

"Harry, you're not crazy," Hermione said. She smiled softly. "What you were doing was completely natural."

"What?" Harry knew that he must have graduated into hallucinations. Hermione gripped his hand tighter, making him focus on her. She stared intently into his eyes.

"You were denning, Harry."

"What?" Harry asked again.

"Mister Potter, what Ms. Granger is trying to explain to you, is that you were acting in a very natural way in regards to your race's need to create a den for their young."

Harry looked between the two of them. "What?"

"You were compelled to create a warm, soft, and comfortable place for you to have your baby." Hermione wrapped her hands around his face and looked deeply into his eyes. "You're pregnant, Harry," Hermione said quietly.

Harry's eyes widened at the pronouncement. All time stopped. He was sure of it. He looked into Hermione's eyes and saw the truth of her words there. He looked at Madame Pomfrey, the hands dropping from his face as he turned his head. The older witch nodded in agreement.

"I'm going to have a baby?" Both women nodded. "And I'm not crazy?" The women shook their heads.

"Oh," Harry breathed. Then he looked up at Madame Pomfrey. "How?"

"I assumed you knew how babies came into the world, Mr. Potter," the lady said smartly. Harry blushed.

"Um, no. I mean, yes, I do. But, how am I," Harry made a gesture towards his abdomen. "Where is it?"

"You have a small amount of flesh in your abdomen that I assumed was just a bit of extra. The human body can surprise you with what you can find in it. I had come across the thin line of flesh before, of course, while examining you, but had never paid much attention to it. It was not harmful so I let it be. But this examination showed that it has widened. It is, for all intents and purposes, your uterus," Pomfrey explained.

Harry winced at the feminine word being applied to him. He'd have to think up a new word or something. Harry looked down at his belly.

"That's where the... the baby is?"

"Yes."

Harry looked up at Hermione for answers as he always did. He didn't know what questions to ask this time, but he hoped she had the solution. Hermione reached out and grabbed his hand and held onto it tightly.

"Are you okay, Harry?" she asked.

"I don't know," he answered honestly.

"I must ask you a serious question, Mister...Harry," Madame Pomfrey said. "You are of age, so I must ask you if you wish to continue or terminate this pregnancy."

"Terminate?" Harry asked in shock.

"It is standard policy to allow you to have a quiet termination with no one knowing anything," the medi-witch explained gently.

"But, but," Harry shook his head. "No, no not at all. I may be a bit freaked out right now, but I'm not going to do that." He turned to Hermione. "I just can't, Hermione. I know I'm young and have my whole life ahead of me and I haven't even finished school, but I just can't!" He begged her to understand.

"Oh, Harry." Hermione wrapped him in a tight hug. "You don't have to convince me! You do what you feel is best! Always! And I shall always support you."

Harry nodded against her shoulder. Suddenly he heard the double doors open and Ron's voice calling out for them.

"Mr. Weasley! This is a hospital, not a pub! You shall refrain from shouting about!"

Ron winced and gave Madame Pomfrey an apologetic look. "Sorry, ma'am." He caught sight of his friends behind her and his face lit up.

"Hey you two! Ravenclaw won!" he looked about as if just realizing where he was. "What are you lot doing here?"

Harry pulled out of Hermione's arms and gave his red-haired friend a blinding smile.

"Good news Ron! I'm not crazy, just preggers!"