A/N: Hey, I came up with this idea a while ago, and haven't managed to get it out of my head. There will be more to come, but I don't know when or how long it'll be.

Warning: Contains Rape and M-preg. If you don't like this then please don't read it.


Harry slowly opened his eyes, unsure of where he was. He blinked a few times to try and clear his vision, and the bright antiseptic light of the hospital wing came into vision. His hand reached to his face, feeling for his glasses, not finding them. He reached blindly for the cabinet at the side, feeling for them, and positioned them on his face. Once he could see properly he looked around himself and his vision came to rest on Hermione sat next to his bedside, her normally calm face, troubled and flushed, streaked with dry tears.

"Her-Hermione." He rasped his throat feeling like he'd been swallowing razorblades. He leant over and brushed her knee with his fingertips. The contact woke her, and she jumped, startled.

"Harry," She exclaimed "You're awake!" a single tear ran down her face and she looked away, lifting a slender hand to hastily brush it away.

"What's wrong?" he questioned quietly. She looked back at him, her eyes searching his drained face.

"I don't know Harry. I don't know how I should be feeling. Happy or Mad, Glad or Sad." She took a deep breath.

"Why Harry? Why didn't you tell me?" Her eyes implored him to give her an answer, but he didn't have the slightest idea what she was talking about. What had so upset her?

"Tell you? Tell you what?" Harry was really confused. What was he meant to have told her, and why was he in the hospital wing?

"You, you let me..." she broke of with a sob, and put her head in her hands. "You let me fall in love with you, when all the time….." She continued, looking back up at him. Harry's brain only caught one important fact from her words.

"You love me?" he whispered reverentially. A ghost of a smile graced his face. Hermione loved him. His insides were dancing for joy. For so long now he'd been falling in love with his best friend, unsure of her feelings. He'd kept it inside, but they'd become closer, spending an increasing amount of time alone together, a thing that kept Harry very happy. It kept Ron quite happy too, his Honeydukes supply had never looked so healthy with all the times Harry had offered him sweets to find an elsewhere to be.

"Yes Harry, I did. All this time I loved you and I thought – I thought that you might have felt something for me too. But you were just being cruel, leading me on. You should have told me Harry, not just played with my feelings like this. Its, it was – hurtful and cruel. And I wouldn't have believed it of you." She broke of again, her breathing heavy with her anger and hurt.

"But, I do feel something for you 'Mione, I Lo..." She cut him off.

"No Harry. You don't feel anything. If you felt even the slightest affection for me, you'd have told me. And I'd have been fine with it. But to pretend like you did. What am I to you? Just some kind of, of plaything. A toy to mess around with whenever you feel like it? Well I'm not Harry. I won't let you do it anymore." She jumped out of her seat, but Harry's hand grabbed her wrist before she could leave.

"Hermione, I don't have a clue what you're talking about. What have I done to upset you? Why am I even in the hospital wing? And you're wrong. I do feel for you. I love you. And I would never deliberately hurt you. Never"

Hermione started to say something, only to be cut off by the sound of the door opening, and two people entering the room.

"Ahh, Mr Potter, I see you have woken up. You gave us quite a scare." Dumbledore's voice was light as it usually was.

"Sir, I'm a little confused. Why am I here?" Dumbledore carefully studied Harry's face before seeming to come to a decision.

"Well, Harry. You gave us a bit of a scare this morning at breakfast, when you stood to leave and then suddenly collapsed." Madame Pomfrey started fussing over him, bending over him and adjusting his pillows, feeling his forehead and taking his pulse.

"Yes Harry. Have you been feeling ill at all lately?" Harry thought about the headmaster's question.

"Uh, yes I have felt a bit off. And I've been throwing up for the last week too. I thought I'd just got a virus, but to pass out, I guess it must be worse than I thought. And for Hermione to be so upset… What's wrong with me?"

"Harry, nothing is wrong exactly. But something is not quite right." Dumbledore was as cryptic as ever, and his comment left Harry more in the dark than before. He looked from the headmaster's face to Madame Pomfrey's and finally to Hermione's, who was once again crying quietly.

"What? Sorry Professor, but I don't understand.

"Harry, My boy. Are you in an – intimate – relationship?" Madame Pomfrey phrased her enquiry carefully.

"No" Still Harry was no clearer on their point, and Hermione now refused to look at him.

"What Madame Pomfrey means Harry is that you're..." Hermione cut Professor Dumbledore off.

"You're Pregnant Harry. With Child. Do you understand now?" She shouted at the boy-who-lived. Harry stilled.

"What? But I can't be. I'm Male" Harry was lost. Madame Pomfrey and Dumbledore stood still watching him.

"Do you understand now what you should have told me? If you'd told me you were GAY Harry I wouldn't have had a problem with it, but to hide it, to pretend…"

"But I'm not Gay."

"Harry, you must be. Male pregnancies only occur through Homosexual intercourse, there is no other reason for this pregnancy." Harry was shocked.

"Are-are you sure I'm pregnant." He whispered, his mind casting back briefly to the summer.

"Quite sure Harry." Dumbledore assured him, placing a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"I'm not gay." Harry stated firmly. "I may have an explanation. But I'm not Gay." He lifted Hermione's hand from her lap. "I promise you Hermione, I do love you, I really do. And I am categorically not gay." She looked up at him, tears still leaking from her red-rimmed eyes.

"Then how Harry. Explain it to us."

"I- don't know if I can." He looked away from all of them for the first time, letting his eyes fall on a far corner of the room, finding immense interest in the pattern on the wallpaper.

He felt a hand under his chin, it gently pulled his face back round to the three waiting faces.

"Please, Harry. We want to understand." Hermione's pleading voice pulled at his heartstrings.

"Ok, I'll try." He told them shakily, "but it's hard."

"It was this summer…" He started, his mind flashing back to that wet summer night….


He'd been doing chores for the Dursley's all day long. It had started early that morning. He'd awoken to his alarm clock trilling out the hour, and had gotten out of bed quickly, going downstairs to make everybody else's breakfast, managing to sneak himself a piece of toast before Petunia came downstairs to oversee his work.

After breakfast, he'd been set to work on the household, being told that the whole house was due its spring clean. He's started on that and had almost finished, when, at four o'clock Vernon had shouted at him that he was to move onto working the garden now. The day was cool and grey, with a tendency to drizzle, and Harry shivered a little as he worked in just a t-shirt. He mowed both lawns, front and back, and trimmed the borders neatly. A man from down the road had walked past with his dog, and told Harry that he was definitely earning his pocket money today. Harry had just nodded to the man, and laughed grimly to himself when the man was out of sight. He continued with his work, weeding all the borders.

Finally it went dark and Harry was allowed inside for tea. His tiny plate of salad was hardly worth calling a meal, but he wolfed it down gratefully, before being shooed upstairs to bed.

It was then that things went downhill.

The Dursley's all followed him to bed, and the house quickly went quiet. He was sure that everyone was asleep and was about to get up and do some Homework, when he heard his bedroom door creak quietly open.

He jolted around to face the door, but could only see a silhouette in the doorway.

"Hello?" He tentatively whispered, unsure who was there. The figure stepped further into the room and closed the door behind him. As the figure approached Harry got a clear view of who it was. A familiar face. He relaxed instantly.

He climbed out of bed only for the large man to stand right before him, so close that their chests were touching. He could see the other man's face now, and it was contorted, a strange look on the familiar face.

"What's Going on?" He asked, worried now, about what was happening. The larger man gripped both of Harry's arms roughly, and pushed him backwards, so the back of his legs hit the edge of the bed with a thud.

"What? What's wrong …" Before he could speak the name his mouth was covered by the other mans. He pulled his head away.

"No. What are you doing?" He wondered vaguely why no one had heard his voice when it usually only took a creaky floorboard to waken Vernon.

The other man pushed Harry's shoulders down and back so the boy was forced down onto the bed. Harry realized with a shock what was happening all to clearly. He froze, knowing he couldn't fight the larger man off him.

He could feel hands grabbing at his waistband, pulling his trousers and boxers away.

"No. Please. Don't" He repeated over and over, unable to completely believe this was happening.

His lower half was now completely free of clothing, the other man seemed happy about this, and Harry lay in front of him shivering with the thought of what was to come.

Without warning, the large man grabbed at Harry's hips once more, and lifted the off the bed. He positioned himself between Harry's thin legs. Harry started struggling in earnest once more.

"Stop that" The dark figure growled. The voice sounding almost inhuman. Harry stilled once more. The large figure thrust heavily into Harry and he screamed with pain. White hot agony ran through him like electricity. Tears of humiliation coursed down his cheeks as the other man thrust repeatedly into him, over and over. Harry saw his eyes glaze over finally, and with a groan Harry felt warm liquid coat his insides, pouring salty pain into him. The man put two large hands on Harry's chest, holding him down as he pulled himself out. He stood, and turned around, walking out of the room without another word.

Harry lay there on his bed, warm liquid pooling on the bed beneath him, and sobbed.


He looked up at Hermione, Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey, all of whom had anguish and shock written all over their faces. What ever explanation they had expected, this wasn't it.

"Oh Harry" Hermione whispered, and threw her arms around him as they both cried together.

Dumbledore put a hand on Madame Pomfrey's shoulders, and gently pulled her out of the hospital wing to talk, giving the two friends a little privacy.

Harry sat, with Hermione's arms around him and sobbed. He hadn't told them who it was, hadn't told them all how he'd felt, lying on his bed, in humiliation, as he watched the retreating back of his Godfather, Sirius Black.