Expecting The Unexpected

Chapter Two - Knocking Up Harry Potter

"Please, please tell me that Malfoy and I aren't having a child together," Harry said weakly, for what was perhaps the twentieth time in the last hour. He felt faint, and more than a little sick. If he had anything left in him to bring up, he was in no doubt he would have done so several minutes ago. "In fact, please tell me this is all some hideous trick and Noel Edmonds is about to pop out at any second and yell, 'Gotcha!'."

"Unfortunately this is definitely no trick," Professor McGonagall said, "and who is Noel Edmonds?" Harry didn't answer her. He was sitting in the headmistress' office, alone except for Professor McGonagall; Ron and Hermione had been ordered back to the Gryffindor common room. Madam Pomfrey had gone to the dungeons to collect Draco Malfoy. The other parent, Harry's brain helpfully supplied.

Harry thought back to this morning, and was suddenly desperate for a Time-Turner, to go back to a time where he just blissfully thought he was ill, rather than- Merlin, he couldn't even think the word. Pregnant. Hermione and Ron had practically frogmarched him down to the Hospital Wing after Ron had found Harry passed out on the floor of the boys' toilets, white-faced and dripping in sweat, having evidently just thrown his guts up. It wasn't by a long shot the only time Harry had been sick in the past three weeks, but it was the first time he'd not managed to hide it from his friends. Hermione had revived him, and she and Ron had both ignored Harry's protests that he didn't need Madam Pomfrey. The matron performed her diagnostic spells, frowned, and- instead of the Pepperup Harry was expecting to receive- dropped the bombshell of the century on him. Yes, life was much easier this morning.

He jumped slightly and looked up as Madam Pomfrey, accompanying a confused and nervous-looking Draco Malfoy, entered McGonagall's office.

"Professor," Malfoy began, "Madam Pomfrey said you needed to speak to me urgently. Is this about my mother? Is she well?"

"As far as I'm aware, Mister Malfoy, your mother is fine," Professor McGonagall replied, not unkindly. "However there is a matter of supreme urgency I need to discuss with you." She gestured with her hands to sit down, and Malfoy did. Only then did he seem to spot Harry, already seated. He started slightly, his confusion evidently growing.

"Potter? What..." he said, but Professor McGonagall held up a hand to silence him. Harry looked away, suddenly finding it impossible to fix his gaze on the boy in front of him.

"Mister Malfoy. Can you please tell me what your relationship with Mister Potter has been like since term started six weeks ago?"

Harry spluttered at the word 'relationship'. He chanced a glance at Draco; his arms were folded and he was staring at the floor. He had the appearance of a person who would rather be anywhere than where he was currently.

"Potter and I haven't even spoken to one another since term began," he said, and it was the perfect truth; there had been none of the heated animosity each held for the other during their early years at Hogwarts since they had arrived for the start of their 'eighth year', as some of the teachers called it. Instead, both Harry and Draco had come to an unsaid agreement for each of them to just leave the other well alone. "I don't understand what any problem Potter has includes me, or vice-versa, Professor." Harry noticed Malfoy was deliberately avoiding his gaze. Good, he thought. Let the git feel uncomfortable.

"That tallies with what Potter has told me," said Professor McGonagall, "which means what I have to tell you will come as an even greater shock. There's really no gentle way to break this to you, so I'll just say it. Mister Malfoy, as unbelievable as this may sound, Harry is pregnant. And spells have determined that you are the child's biological father."

Harry hadn't thought it possible that Malfoy's porcelain skin could pale any further, but he was wrong. Every drop of blood drained instantly from his face, leaving him looking deathly ill and sallow. Harry noticed he was gripping the arms of his chair incredibly tightly. Harry wondered if Malfoy was about to throw up. He was perfectly still. In fact, Harry thought, he looked every inch that he was carved from marble.