Author's Note:

Main Pairing: Harry Potter/Lucius Malfoy

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, explicit language, homophobia, references to violence, MPreg, adultery, age-gap

Disclaimer: The world and characters of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers worldwide, and Warner Bros. I own nothing but the plot and make no money from this story.

Chapter One: Wedding Crasher

Harry Potter was throwing up and had been for a number of days. He could barely stomach anything (except cucumbers dipped in peanut butter), was having trouble sleeping, and was moody and emotional. He'd been crying the previous night, the day before that he'd shouted at everyone and told them to piss off. Everyone thought it was wedding jitters; Harry and Ginny were about to get married, the Weasleys thought Harry was just nervous.

Hermione thought it was something else and had barely left Harry's side. The teenager refused to see a healer, meaning Hermione had to bring one to him.

Poppy Pomfrey had been invited to the wedding by Harry. She'd patched him up more then any other student who'd walked through Hogwarts. Harry wanted to thank her and celebrate this day with her, even though he hadn't felt much like celebrating since proposing.

Mrs Weasley and Ginny both had pressured him into doing it, even though Harry had claimed it was too soon, they were too young, didn't Ginny want to travel and explore? He'd only given in to shut the women up and so he could finally have a family, even though the thought of sex with Ginny terrified him.

They'd agreed to wait until after the wedding, though Ginny had tried to jump him a number of times. Harry didn't know why the prospect of sex with her scared him. He'd had sex before and it had been fantastic.

Ah, maybe it's because that sex wasn't with Ginny, Harry's conscious whispered.

Harry groaned and leaned heavily over the toilet, sweat trickling down his nose, hair sticking to his forehead.

Maybe it's because Ginny's a woma-

'No,' Harry muttered hoarsely to himself. 'No, I can sleep with her, I can.'

His brain was laughing now and Harry wondered if he was going insane.

Sure you can, his mind teased.

Harry groaned and rubbed his face, glasses pushed up into his hair. He'd learned a few days ago to set them there before throwing up, otherwise they took a disgusting swim. The vomiting made him sweat like mad.

There was a knock on the bathroom door. 'What?' Harry grunted.

'Harry, it's Hermione,' his best friend's voice came through the door. 'I've got Madam Pomfrey.'

'Go away.'

'Harry, please,' Hermione begged. 'I'm worried about you.'

'I'm fine,' the green-eyed wizard insisted before throwing up again. He'd long run out of actual food to vomit and now it was just stomach acid. His throat felt raw and on fire, his stomach twisting badly and making him groan.

Suddenly the bathroom door clicked open and Hermione walked in followed by the Hogwarts healer. Harry groaned in annoyance and slid his glasses back on.

''Mione,' he hissed as he stood. A wave of dizziness crashed over him and he stumbled, hitting the sink and tumbling back. Hermione flicked her wand and he froze before being pushed back up by invisible hands. Hermione caught him and grimaced.

'Harry, you've been throwing up again.'

'I'm fine,' Harry mumbled, turning away. He broke from her grip and went to the sink, turning the tap on to gargle water and splash some on his face.

'You are not,' Hermione said in exasperation. They'd been having this same argument for the past three weeks and it had grown old long ago. 'Something's wrong and I want to be safer then sorry.'

'Please, Mr Potter, this will only take a second,' Madam Pomfrey said. 'Afterwards you can go get married.'

Harry's stomach churned violently and he had to stop himself throwing up again. Dear Gods, married, Harry thought. I can't get married!

He swallowed his fear and nodded at Madam Pomfrey. He'd do this if only to shut Hermione up and maybe get something for the vomiting.

The healer asked Hermione to leave and thankfully the witch did without argument. She shut the door and Poppy directed Harry to sit on the edge of the bath.

'What are your symptoms, Mr Potter?'

'Um... nausea,' Harry said, 'dizziness, stomach cramps, lack of appetite, mood swings.'

Poppy looked him over carefully before withdrawing her wand. She waved it around as she asked, 'And how long have you been feeling like this?'

'About three weeks,' Harry admitted. 'The dizziness started before hand but I wasn't sleeping much so... oh, I'm having trouble sleeping too.'

'Because of the nausea or...?'

'Just... sometimes I can't sleep, no matter how hard I try,' Harry said, 'but I'm sure it's just stress about the wedding.'

Poppy nodded but didn't look convinced. Her wand flicked over Harry's abdomen and started vibrating. Poppy halted her movements and she and Harry watched as bright golden sparks shot from the end of her wand. Harry blinked and looked up to see the healer frowning.

'What?' he asked. 'What is it?'

'Mr Potter...' she said slowly, stowing her wand away, '... have you heard of the contraceptive charm?'

All the colour drained from Harry's face and his mouth fell open. 'Oh no.'

No, no, no, he thought desperately. No, this can't be happening!

Poppy grimaced. 'It's one hundred percent effective only if you cast it before penetration takes place.'

'But... but...' he gasped, trying to find another explanation. 'It was... was only one time!'

Poppy sighed. 'It can happen the first time, Mr Potter, even with wizards. I take it you didn't cast the charm?'

'H-He did,' Harry swallowed thickly, 'but we'd been... um... been going a f-few minutes before... before he did...'

'Pre-ejaculate has the ability to fertilise your magic, especially if both wizards are powerful,' Poppy said softly. 'The charm has to be cast before penetration or it might not work.'

Harry's hands shook and he leapt up. He threw himself over the toilet and dry heaved, body wanting to vomit but stomach having nothing to offer. Poppy sighed and went to crouch beside him, rubbing his back soothingly.

'You have morning sickness,' she explained. 'Your magic is changing, shaping your body for incubation. It affects your hormones, which in turn sway your mood.'

'Oh Gods,' Harry groaned as he spat into the toilet.

'All your symptoms can be explained by this,' Poppy said. 'I take it it wasn't planned?'

'Of course it wasn't,' Harry growled. 'I'm supposed to be getting married right now! To a woman!'

'You can't abort, I'm sorry,' Madam Pomfrey said. 'It's against the law except in special circumstances like rape or health issues, what with there being so few witches and wizards.' She paused. 'It wasn't rape, was it?'

Harry shook his head, memories of the night assaulting his brain. He felt his cheeks heat up and shook his head again. 'No, it was consensual.'

He slumped heavily against the toilet and Poppy continued to soothe him.

'Merlin, what am I going to do?' Harry choked.

The bathroom door opened slowly and Hermione popped her head in.

'Harry? Everyone's getting worried.' She saw her best friend, and the sad look on Poppy's face. Pushing the door open and stepping in, Hermione asked, 'Oh Morgana, what's wrong?'

Harry moaned and buried his face in his arms. He wanted to cry, and shout, maybe blow something up.

We weren't careful enough, he thought angrily. Gods, what am I going to do? Everyone will know now, they'll know! Fuck, how am I going to tell him?


'Fuck,' Harry muttered.

Hermione looked at Poppy for an explanation but the healer said, 'It's not my place to tell; healer/patient confidentiality. It's up to Mr Potter.'

She sighed and looked at the teenager, who looked so sick and weak slumped over the toilet bowl.

'Mr Potter, come see me as soon as you can, I'll direct you to St Mungo's; you need a proper check up, okay?'

After Harry had nodded and mumbled a thank you, Poppy took her leave. She apparated outside, knowing the wedding was about to come to a dramatic end.

'Harry?' Hermione said.

'Shut the door.'

She complied and crouched beside him as Harry spat into the toilet.

'What's wrong?' Hermione asked. 'Is it serious?'

Harry laughed humourlessly. 'Yeah, you could say that.'

Hermione frowned. 'Harry, you're scaring me. What's wrong?'

Harry sighed and rubbed a hand through his sweaty hair. Sitting up, he looked his best friend dead in the eyes.

'I'm pregnant.'

Author's Note: So I haven't planned this story out. Usually I write a few chapters and then I plan the entire story out... I'm just writing this off the top of my head but I have an idea for the ending.

I'm saying this because if the story seems rushed, short, or you feel there isn't enough content it's because I'm letting my muse (his name is Johnny) take over.

So yeah, no hate mail please. Just enjoy this shot of Harry and Lucius.