Title: A Laughing Matter

Author: SweetlyDesolated

Words: 13,193

Warnings: My attempt at mPreg…oh dear. Slash, graphic smut, dub-con to consensual.

Summary: A new idea has arisen with the pureblood families – continue the magical lines with fertile partners, rather than arranged marriages. So when Harry finds himself blindfolded and led off during one of these pureblood, Slytherin nights, and finds himself pregnant the next week, what's a boy to do? Slash, HP/TN

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and other recognizable characters and places; they are the property of J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. Inc. I do own the plot.

The old castle grumbled. Hogwarts' sentient stone space was enchanted with numerous rules and laws, number seven, subsection D being to keep the children unattached, rather than tied down. It seemed Hogwarts' magic wasn't to be needed with this new idea. A couple staircases swung around, unintentionally jerking a few students uncomfortably, thus breaking number three, subsection F, part four. It was an unintentional accident in all honesty.

Rather than arranged marriages in which a child wasn't guaranteed, this generation of purebloods was ordered to sleep around. The fertile couples were to get married or bonded and continue on the magical lines. The race began late May of their seventh year, so the offspring would be born before the New Year, all around the same time. This insured that, when the children went to school, they were of age to start their own families when their seventh year came, if the idea worked.

Since this was the first year of trying out the pregnant-first, then-marry idea, the older Slytherins (they were all purebloods, and it was decided they would host the parties) sent the students younger than seventh year to their dorms for the weekend, where they were attended by house elves. The hallways were protected by age lines designed by the brightest Slytherin seventh year, Millicent Bulstrode, and prevented anyone over the age of seventeen from entering the corridors.

Invitations were sent out to the other houses to males and females of half-blood parentage or higher, for the purebloods had to preserve their incestuous lines by introducing new blood. The invitations requested the other students come to the Slytherin common room each weekend for a relaxing break. They requested all homework be done, for there was little chance the party would be over in time for it to be completed on Sunday.

Harry Potter was one person to receive an invitation. He was uncertain to whether or not to attend, as Hermione wasn't to be involved in the proceedings. However, Seamus, a half-blood like Harry, convinced the seventeen-year-old Savior. The duo went to the first party along with the other eligible Gryffindor members. Ron chose not to attend, as he remained faithful with his girlfriend, Hermione. When they arrived, there was tons of alcohol, good food, and dancing bodies. There weren't many people there, about thirty, give or take a few, but it was enough to have a good time in the Slytherin common room.

Upon arrival, Seamus dragged his friend to one of the multiple tables. He gave Harry a cup of the punch-flavored rum and threw back his own glass. Harry sipped at it hesitantly, not having much experience with alcohol. "Just drink it, Harry!" Seamus shouted to his friend above the music. The Irish teen downed another drink and shuffled down the table to search for something stronger, all the while dragging Harry with him.

By the time Harry was thoroughly drunk, Seamus had left to shag Mandy Brocklehurst, a Ravenclaw pureblood. Harry found an unoccupied couch and reclined, propping his head up so he could drink more without choking. His eyes were closed and he was unaware he had company due to the loud, thrumming music.

A hand folding over his closed eyes and a mouth ravaging his neck was enough to make Harry jump. The movement wasn't enough to dislodge his attacker, and a sharp nip to his skin made Harry freeze in his attempt to sit up. The lips moved up his neck and attached to Harry's mouth, a smothering kiss that was perfect in his inebriated state. The kiss ended as the person's other hand removed the cup of alcohol from Harry's loosening grip. It was set aside and the person shifted onto the couch, kneeling on Harry's hands and sitting on his middle as Harry bucked up.

Harry felt his eyelashes flutter against the person's palm as he struggled to open his eyes. He may have been drunk, but his instincts told him to get away, to protect himself. He was dismayed when something was draped across the lower portion of his face and slid up under the figure's palm. The fabric was stretched and Harry's head was lifted in order for it to be knotted firmly at the back of his head – a blindfold then. Fingers stroked down his cheek and lips connected to Harry's once again. Harry was pulled into a sitting position as the figure moved back to sit on the Gryffindor's thighs. His hands were still immobile and Harry was unable to shift away as a thick, smooth but stiff something was fastened around his neck. A clink of metal had another object attached to the necklace, and the figure shifted to stand.

Harry was tugged to the figure by the thing around his neck. He flushed as he slowly realized what it was – a collar with the leash in the person's grasp. In order to keep breathing, Harry stood and would have fallen if it weren't for a strong arm catching him around his waist; it seemed like the figure was a male. Harry wasn't opposed to men. After disasters, starting with Cho and ending with Ginny, the young Savior considered himself asexual. He hadn't really considered himself gay, but he wasn't against the idea, not if the person's strong, demanding kisses were any indication.

"On the floor," the teen ordered with a sharp tug to the leash. Harry didn't recognize the voice.

He fell to his knees and then his hands, waiting patiently. He figured this was better, as there wasn't as great a distance to fall in his drunken state. With his head bowed, Harry crawled after the male at a slight pull to his neck. The music dulled behind him and the stone floors became warmer as the two boys approached the sleeping quarters available for the night.

The Gryffindor was led onto a soft rug; the leash was unclipped and dropped near his hand. "Stay," he was told, and Harry did as commanded, though he shifted back until he was sitting on his heels with his hands resting on his knees.

The person shut the door to the room and sent up a few charms, one of which blocked the music. Harry recognized the rest as a locking charm, and another, which would keep the sound inside the room rather than escaping into other corridors.

Harry swallowed uneasily as the leash was unclipped from the collar around his neck. "Strip, but do not remove the blindfold," the other teen said. Dropping clothes sounded in the space next to Harry, so he hesitantly stood and tugged his shirt over his head, using one hand to keep the cover in place. He ducked his head down as he awkwardly moved his hands down to unbuckle the belt from the waistband of his pants. He slid it out of the loops and dropped it to the floor. Harry kicked off his shoes as his fingers unclasped his pants and loosed the zipper. Seamus had persuaded him to not wear underpants, considering the point of the party was to get people knocked up. He pushed his pants down and stepped out of the pooled fabric, glad he had forgone socks.

His arms dropped to his side, fingers clenching uncertainly, as the figure stepped closer. Harry could feel his heat against his skin and the teen jumped slightly when he felt a gentle touch against his neck. The fingers slid down his body, over his collarbones and to his chest where one of his nipples was teased briefly. The hand continued down and slipped sideways, coming to a stop at mid-back.

"Very pretty," the boy whispered into Harry's ear as he pulled Harry against him. Every inch of their naked bodies touched, from chest to knee. Harry's skin heated as he felt the other's prominent arousal against his stomach. He dropped his head forward and rested it against the male's shoulder to hide his blush.

Harry wobbled slightly as the male stepped back, leading him to where Harry guessed the bed was located. "Let me fix that," Harry was told. The leash was clipped to his neck again and Harry felt fabric brush against his thighs as they closed in on the bed. "Get on," the person demanded, so Harry dutifully clambered on and crawled until he was sure he wasn't going to fall off in any direction. "Mmm, sexy," the person commented, much to Harry's embarrassment. The leash urged him forward and Harry continued to crawl until he felt the headboard before his fingers. The pressure around his neck increased for a moment as the lead was tied to something. The person responded, "Stay here."

The figure walked away, to Harry's confusion. Rather than be bare to anyone who would chance upon the room, even if it were securely locked, Harry shifted until he was seated with his back to the headboard, his feet crossed over his semi-erection. Being ordered around by an unknown person was quite erotic, the teen thought. He rested his forehead against his knees as his arms wrapped around his legs.

A sudden lurch of the mattress had Harry blindly turning his face towards where he thought the movement was coming from. The jiggling stopped as the person sat before Harry, his legs to either side of Harry's feet. "Drink this," he said, "I don't want you drunk for what happens next."

A cool vial was pressed against Harry's lips. He hesitated on opening his mouth but figured the person had plenty of opportunities to harm him. He decided to trust the other male and opened his mouth. The potion tasted nasty as it flooded over his tongue. He swallowed and gasped as his fuzzy state disappeared, replaced by the clarity before alcohol. Things didn't seem as slow and far off as they hadn't been before. "Thanks," Harry murmured when the vial was moved and set aside.

The bed shifted again as the person leaned forward and captured Harry's lips in another kiss. It held the same force as the others, but this time the mouth opened over his and a tongue lapped at Harry's lips. The teen hesitantly parted his lips for the asking muscle, which entered his mouth and twisted with his tongue. He moaned at the invitation and grew braver. Harry unwound his arms from his legs and wrapped them around the other's neck.

Hands went to Harry's hips and he was pulled from sitting against the headboard to lying on his back, the other hovering over him.

The leash was unclipped as they arranged their position on the bed. Harry's legs fell apart and the other boy lowered his body until his skin was pressed against Harry's. He groaned into Harry's mouth as legs went around his hips, pulling his erection fully against the other teen.

Their mouths slid apart as the other shifted above Harry, angling his face to kiss down the boy's neck. "You look utterly owned," he commented when his mouth reached Harry's collar.

Harry shivered at the lust he heard in the other's voice. One of his hands twisted in the average-length hair to bring the male's mouth back up to his. With an uncertain movement, Harry rocked his hips, rubbing their erect flesh together.

"Impatient, are we?" he was asked as the kiss broke and the lips again descended down his neck. A tongue danced over Harry's clavicle, lapping at the skin. The mouth sealed over the taught skin and sucked until a mark blossomed against his skin.

Harry groaned at the sucking sensation and wondered what exactly the other was doing. It seemed each pull on Harry's skin had his erection become that much harder. Harry bucked his hips up again, intent on the stirring pleasure he had felt earlier.

"Mine," the other whispered when he pulled back and admired the love bite he had given the other teen. His hips moved with Harry's, their cocks sliding together easily with a light coating of sweat and precome. He slowly moved down Harry's body, kissing and licking a trail to the pert nipples, then lower to the belly button, and finally to Harry's dripping cock. He took it into his mouth, and his tongue laved on the underside. He licked at the thick vein that stood out on his partner's organ as one of his hands picked up his wand, left on the bed sheet next to their bodies.

He wordlessly performed the spell that cleared out Harry's arse, and he summoned the lubricant from his bedside, too comfortable to move and get it physically. His other hand held Harry's hips down, preventing him from bucking down his throat. He easily popped open the container and scooped some of the paste onto three fingers, thoroughly coating them.

He pulled his mouth off Harry to say, "I apologize for any pain you feel." He didn't want Harry to come too soon, so his mouth moved to the side and licked at a slightly pointed hip, intent on forming his mark there. The pointer finger, slathered in lube, found the tight ring of muscle. It circled lazily for Harry, who had stiffened at the initial touch, to get used to the feeling. His finger dipped shallowly past the tight, first ring of muscle, and then pulled out once more. The other hand stroked lazily at the skin on Harry's side.

Soon, his sole finger worked into the tight muscle, stretching it for something better and much more pleasing. He added a second, waiting a moment for Harry to adjust, and began to scissor the tight hole wide. The third finger caused Harry to stiffen. Any tears released from the collared beauty were caught by the blindfold, so he moved his mouth down and concentrated on making yet another mark. The others were nicely developed and pleasing for him to look at.

When three digits fit easily inside Harry's wonderfully tight arse, he pulled them out and scooped more of the gel onto his palm. He ordered Harry, "Flip to your stomach and rise to your knees; grip the headboard with your hands." As Harry did that, he slathered the lubricant over his cock and wiped the excess on the sheets, off to the side. He capped the jar and shoved it in another direction, along with his wand. The teen shuffled to the side so he could reattach the leash to his lover's collar. He trailed his fingers down Harry's back and to his rear, letting his palm rest against the lovely bum. He bent forward and nibbled at the tight skin of Harry's shoulder, intent on forming a bite there.

A light shadow was blooming when he abandoned Harry's shoulder and moved to the teen's rear. "Just relax, or this will hurt more than I want it to," he told Harry. He lined his erection up with the loosened hole and pushed his hips forward until the crown cleared the first ring of muscle. Harry's back flexed as he involuntarily stiffened and gave a hiss of pain; his lover ran gentle hands over his skin until Harry relaxed. The teen inched into Harry until he was surrounded completely by the tight warmth.

Harry felt the blindfold around his eyes dampen with his tears. He couldn't help it; the intrusion was painful, even though his unknown lover went slowly and reassured Harry with his gentle, soothing touches. Eventually, the pain decreased and he pressed back onto the other.

He smiled as Harry accepted him. He slid his hands down until they circled Harry's waist. He held Harry still as he pulled out halfway and then pushed in. He kept a slow pace for their first time, but the tight heat around him pleaded with the teen to go faster. Eventually, his hormones took control of his movements. His thrusts increased in force, slamming Harry's arse against his pelvis and rocking the Gryffindor between his braced knees and the headboard.

Their gasps and moans filled the air of the room, and Harry was glad of the foresight of his lover to mute the room to outside hearing. His lover, on each thrust, pushed against something in Harry that made him mewl in response. One of the other teen's hands slid around to Harry's front and tightened around his cock, jerking Harry in time with the forceful thrusts.

Harry came first, spurting onto the bed sheets and his lover's hand, screaming incoherently. At the compressing muscles, his lover came in his channel, flooding his arse with warm come. A brief tingle filled his abdomen, but soon disappeared. His lover cried out, "Harry!" much to the teen's pleasure. He collapsed on the Gryffindor's back, making Harry tremble from holding up extra weight, especially in his post-release state.

They panted harshly together as they came down from their orgasmic high. Harry's lover pulled them on to their sides. Their hands were twined together, with one of his arms over Harry's hip and the other supporting his lover's head.

When their sweaty bodies cooled, he commented, "Do you want to sleep, or go for another round?"

Harry's arse pushing back against his front was a good indication, which he greeted with a loud, amused laugh. He nuzzled into Harry's neck and kissed the salty skin. He rolled over Harry to lie across the other teen once again. He planned on making love with the other face-to-face, even if Harry couldn't see him. His hand guided his come-soaked erection back to Harry's open hole. The two went at it again, and Harry made his own mark, high on his lover's neck, just under his jaw.

It was early morning when they stopped and fell into an exhausted sleep, Harry pleasantly filled as they spooned on the soiled mattress.

Harry awoke late in the afternoon, sore but blissful, until he realized his lover wasn't behind him, wasn't inside him like he was when they fell asleep. He ached something fierce around his lower back when he sat up. He heard no one in the room, and figured it was safe to take off his blindfold.

His glance around the room showed it belonged to a Slytherin, that or they borrowed it for the night. He figured they were Slytherin, as the blindfold in his hands was one of the green and silver ties. The bed was disheveled from their activities, and his leash hung forlornly from the headboard. The collar was tight around his neck and comforting to Harry, who had feared he had been abandoned after his lover got his way.

He slid to the edge of the bed and stood, grabbing for the bedpost for balance when he felt sharp pains rush up his spine. He grimaced when he felt his lover's come trickle out of his anus with the movement and he shuffled around the bed to his pile of clothing. He searched in the pockets for his wand, coming across a folded piece of parchment as he did so. He set it aside for the time being and instead grasped his wand firmly and cast the charm that his lover had used the night before. His arse was left achingly empty and Harry involuntarily shivered in the warm room.

Harry slowly dressed in last night's alcohol-scented clothing, taking pauses every now and again to adjust for the burning of his rear. When he was dressed, Harry perched carefully on the edge of the well-used bed. He unfolded the paper and read it, a small smile covering his lips as he processed what it said:

I'll see you next weekend. Please wear the collar?

Harry smiled. Of course he'd wear the collar; it matched the multitude of love bites that covered his body. He tucked the note into the pocket opposite his wand and stood once again. He slowly made his way to the exit, fingering the collar as he walked.

Gryffindor common room was rowdy when Harry entered. Ron and Hermione were kissing in some far-off corner, so the boy Savior went to his dorms to clean up. Cleaning charms weren't as refreshing as a shower, he thought. Once finished, he toweled his body dry and returned to the rooms. He pulled on and buttoned his pants when he noticed an odd black smudge on his abdomen. Harry rubbed at it with his towel, but the mark remained. He dismissed it from his thoughts for the time being as he spelled his collar (which was water resistant) unseen. He covered the love bites with a turtleneck and hoped no one questioned him; it was May after all.

The teen left the dorms after towel-drying his hair; he had to work to hide his slight limp, which had receded somewhat from the hot water of his shower. By this time, Ron and Hermione were impatiently waiting for him. Harry smiled when he saw his friends and the slightly blissful expression on Ron's face. "Hey Harry!" his long-time friend exclaimed. "Wanna go flying today?"

Harry paled; the pain would be excruciating! As he shook his head forcefully, he commented, "Maybe some other day, mate. So, how about lunch?"

Ron grinned. "Great, I'm starving."

Hermione rolled her eyes but dutifully followed her boyfriend and best friend to the Great Hall, where lunch was set out under temperature-controlled charms. As Ron stuffed his mouth, Hermione asked Harry, "So what did you get up to last night? Was the party any fun?"

"Yeah, it was good. Seamus and I got drunk, and then he ran off with Mandy. I just danced with random people all night," he told them. It would be embarrassing to admit he had gotten completely owned last night, not when his friends still thought him straight. From the corner of his eye, Harry caught Ginny giving him wide eyes. He ignored her. Their breakup before the war had been ugly, and when Harry hadn't asked the girl out when everything was safe, she had taken to dating others to make Harry jealous.

"That sounds…interesting," Ron stated when his mouth was clear. He had tried to speak with it full, but a glare from Hermione deterred his comment.

Harry nodded. "So what did you two get up to?" he questioned, a faint smirk on his face. Hermione easily blushed, and Ron flushed bright red. His friends briefly avoided Harry's eyes, and those of the other. Harry sat, content, as he listened to their embarrassed conversation.

The next week passed in a rather uneventful manner. Harry was unable to find out whom he had slept with, as none of the Slytherin males, or even those of other houses, pranced around with their lovers. Well, except for Seamus, who was seen many times with Mandy in some random hallway, but Harry dismissed the fact the person he had slept with was Seamus anyway. His friend might have acted gay, but he was very much straight.

Harry made sure to complete all his homework over the week, rather than Friday night. He wanted to be well rested for the weekend, in the chances he found out who his lover was.

The collar remained around Harry's neck, even as the love bites faded to shadows on his skin, and then disappeared. His collar was heavy around his throat; occasionally Harry would lift his hand and run his finger along its length before returning his hands to their previous position.

Hermione caught a few of these movements and sometimes wondered what was around her friend's neck. The motions were something she was familiar with as she, too, would fiddle with a necklace when she wore one. The touch was a distraction, and yet it was a comfort to know the jewelry was still there. Only, Hermione couldn't see what was around Harry's neck. The thoughts flew from her mind as she sunk into the familiar patterns of Ron and Harry and homework.

The smudge on Harry's abdomen grew into complex swirls, a pattern Harry was unable to decipher. The marks were a dark, inky black, much like the Dark Marks, but it was beautiful rather than morbid. Many times, while resting in bed or taking a shower, Harry found his fingers tracing the whorls without his awareness. It was unusual, he thought, how something seemed to grow with each passing day. He couldn't find anything about the swirling tattoo in the library, and Harry didn't particularly want to go to the hospital wing, or bother Hermione about it.

When the day of the party arrived, Harry again followed Seamus down to the Slytherin rooms. He cancelled the glamour charm on his collar, easily revealed by his Muggle tuxedo t-shirt. It was something of a joke between Harry and Dean, to see who could have the most ridiculous shirt. Harry won that contest.

Upon seeing the collar, Seamus exclaimed, "Well, Harry, it seems like you had more fun than you mentioned last weekend!"

Harry smirked at his friend and replied, "Yes, it does seem to be that way, Seamus. Now, run along after Mandy; she's over there, by the wall."

"Thanks, Harry. See ya tomorrow," he responded and bounced off to his girlfriend, drinks in hand.

Harry gathered his own drink and stood sipping it, watching everyone around him. It seemed that people partied first, and then ran off to sleep with each other when that got boring.

He jumped when a hand folded over his eyes and breath blew over his neck as someone commented, "Hello my lovely, you look wonderfully possessed this night." The teen shifted back into the warmth of his lover and tilted his head up for a smothering kiss.

Harry laughed into the kiss, delighted, as warm arms surrounded him and hands clasped over his belly. He kept his eyes closed as he turned in the embrace, chest to chest with his lover, and broke the kiss. "May I see you?" Harry asked the other male, slightly nervous.

"And if I say no?" he returned.

Harry retorted happily, "Then I guess I'll have to disobey. So is your response a yes or a no?" His mouth was captured in a hungry kiss that slowly lessened in intensity, until it was only the barest brush of skin to skin.

Against his lips, his lover murmured, "If you must, then see me."

The arms around Harry loosened, until the teen was only pressed into the warm body through his own movements. His eyelashes fluttered open as his eyes readjusted to the light after being closed for some time. Harry tilted his head to the side as he took in the sight of his lover. The male had filled out his weedy, early teenage body, and had obviously broken out of his 'loner' persona in order to find Harry.

Though, the person was certainly not who Harry had been expecting. For one, he had never really spoken to this teen, maybe only a few exchanged words in all their years of Hogwarts. "Theodore Nott," Harry identified. "I can't say I was expecting you, of all people, considering how little I really know of you," he stated.

His lover's face, slightly open before, shut completely to Harry's eyes. The teen stepped back, away from Harry, and then turned and walked away, his pace quick and increasing with each step. Harry watched, dumbfounded, and shook himself. What was he doing standing in place while his lover ran away?

Harry vaguely remembered the way to the dorms as he twisted between people dancing in the common room. He followed the memory as best he could, and finally the music died away as he came to the seventh year rooms. Only one door was shut, and magic heavily decorated the doorway.

The magic parted around Harry's hand, as if welcoming him into the room it protected. The door swung open silently and the torchlight from the hall glumly illuminated the dark interior. Harry made out the vague shape of Nott on the bed, an arm across his eyes. Harry entered the room and shut the door behind him, throwing the space into pure darkness. He easily made his way to the bed, coming across no obstacles in his silent approach.

Harry slid his shoes off and shifted his weight to the mattress. Nott made no movements as Harry crawled to him and lay next to him. "You're quite silly, you realize," Harry stated. One of his arms was over Nott's chest, and his leg was thrown over his lover's. Theodore's other arm automatically wrapped around Harry as the Gryffindor got comfortable.

Theodore was stiff under Harry's touch, not soft and relaxed like he had been when Harry didn't know his identity. "And how is that?" he asked lowly in a calm and neutral voice.

"Running away for instance, when I comment that I don't know you at all, and was thus not expecting to find you, Theodore Nott, as the person I spent a great deal of last weekend with," Harry replied. "Although," he amended, "I expect we know a great deal about one another at this point in time."

Theodore laughed quietly and tightened his hold on his lover. His arm dropped from over his eyes to rest on Harry's neck, his fingers fiddling with the collar. "You'll still wear this, even knowing I put it on you?" he questioned.

Harry smiled into the darkness. "It's still on, is it not? And I'm here as well," he replied. He rolled onto Theodore and shifted up until he could connect their mouths in an exploring kiss.

The arms around Harry tightened and slid down until fingers could slip under his shirt, a burning touch against his skin. "This is true," Theodore responded when Harry's lips left his and kissed a path down his jaw to make another mark over unblemished skin. "Shall we make it more interesting?" he asked.

Harry groaned lowly when fingers grazed up his sides, the hands lifting his shirt from his body. He sat up to pull the fabric over his head, rubbing his rear down against Theodore's growing erection. The Slytherin's hands moved down and held Harry's hips in place as he pushed his clothed arousal against his lover.

As they unhurriedly rocked together, Harry worked at the many buttons to Theodore's shirt, eventually spreading the cloth and letting his lithe fingers dance over his lover's chest. Soon enough, Theodore pulled Harry to his chest in order to change positions. Their hands tangled together as they undid the other's pants, Theodore's mouth busy making his marks on Harry's neck.

He gasped when their bodies lined up, completely naked. Harry wrapped arms and legs around Theodore, welcoming the lubricant-coated fingers that opened his tight entrance. When Harry was prepared, Theodore coated his cock and thrust home into his lover.

Eventually they fell asleep, sticky and sated once more. Harry was wrapped in Theodore's embrace, happy with the idea. Theodore kept Harry in his arms, insistent on his captivity, possessive even in sleep.

Harry woke the next morning, less sore than the previous week, but even more content as there was someone else's hand splayed across his abdomen. Theodore's breathing was heavy and even against his ear as they lay cuddled together, spooning on the messy bed.

He grabbed for his wand and cast a few spells to clean their bodies and the covers, lazily thrown over their waists before they fell asleep. Theodore's face pressed into Harry's neck as the Gryffindor lit the torches and opened the curtains covering the fake window (complete with a view of the Forbidden Forest). Harry chuckled as Theodore groaned and complained, "It's too early, Harry. Turn off the lights."

"Mm, no. There's more interesting things we can do rather than sleep," Harry responded. The fingers over his belly shifted, automatically tracing the whorls even though their owner couldn't see what he was doing. "How are you managing that?" he asked.

"Managing what?" Theodore asked.

Harry expanded, "Tracing each line when you can't even see them." Behind him, his lover stiffened.

"Say that again," he demanded.

"You're tracing each line, and you don't even know what the mark looks like. How are you doing that?" he wondered.

His lover moved abruptly, shifting away from Harry and rolling the Gryffindor onto his back. The sheets were pulled down until the entire design, which had expanded once again over night, was displayed.

Theodore threw his head back and laughed gleefully. His hands tenderly traced over the marks, especially around a tangle of ink and a zigzag lost in the middle.

"What is it?" Harry asked, somewhat peeved that he was being ignored. His arms were propping his torso up so he could look down the length of his body to where his lover was cradled between his legs.

He responded cheerfully, "Do you remember what the purpose of these parties was?"

Harry nodded hesitantly. "Yeah, it was to get people pregnant for a successful marriage. What does that have to…? You're joking, right? Please, tell me you are joking."

Theodore shook his head as his fingers traced each line on Harry's abdomen. He still chuckled happily. The patterns nearly reached Harry's sides, and yet they were only a week old. These tattoos would be expansive, he guessed.

"Males can't get pregnant!" Harry exclaimed. He sat up, dislodging his lover's hands from his skin. Theodore lifted his body to his knees, still positioned between Harry's legs. "Stop laughing," he snapped when Theodore shifted.

"No one mentioned it to you? I guess it's something we just grow up with, accepting that submissive males can get pregnant," Theodore explained. "The tattoos come into play as a show of whether or not one is pregnant. They expand until the carrier is two weeks, and then stop growing. Within that time, a symbol of each parent is depicted. See here, this zigzag shape? That would be you. This tangle of chords is me, a knot for a Nott," he told his lover, tracing out each shape as he told Harry.

Harry groaned with despair. He fell back against the pillows, and felt his lover's fingers once again start tracing the tattoos. "What now, Theodore?" Harry asked a little bit later.

The digits against his skin disappeared as Theodore took their place. "Well, we can get more acquainted," he said, lightly pressing his semi-arousal against Harry's front, "or we can get cleaned up and greet the world. Which do you want to do?"

"Tempus," Harry said, shifting his head so he could examine the cloud of smoke that shot out of the tip of his wand. "It's almost noon; shall we combine those two ideas instead?" he questioned with a sly smile.

Theodore joined their lips with a grin of his own. "Let's," he replied. He shifted against Harry, grinding their growing erections together, before rolling off his pregnant lover and to his feet, standing butt-naked and impatient for the shower. He gathered his wand and spelled a bathrobe over his body, doing the same for Harry when he joined him.

Harry twisted their fingers together as he followed his lover from the room and down the hall. "It's a group shower, with individual stalls. The place was expanded for these weekend sex-a-thons," Theodore commented when they entered.

Already, there were couples kissing under showerheads, though none of them had progressed to sex in the public showers. Theodore dragged Harry to the private section and spelled the water warm when they stepped in the enclosure. "Ready to be ravished?" he asked his lover when he vanished the conjured robes.

Harry grinned smugly. "I still have some marking to do, Theodore," he responded, nearly purring his lover's name.

Theodore smirked and dipped his head to capture Harry's lips. His arms went around his lover's body and moved the couple under the warm spray. Harry gasped into his mouth for the sudden dampness, but merely concentrated on his lover's lips and body when he was pressed back into the shower wall.

The Slytherin slipped one hand down his lover's side, catching Harry's leg at the knee and hiking it over one hip. Harry was left on the ball of his foot, holding onto Theodore's neck tightly. His lover positioned his water-slicked cock at Harry's entrance and pushed in quickly. He delighted in the moan he received as he brushed against Harry's prostate.

Harry tightened his hold on his lover, shifting his face down the wet skin to nip at the teen's neck. Theodore shivered against him, and pressed into Harry again, harder than the first breech. Harry mewled in return and pushed his hips down, accepting more of Theodore into his body.

Sex in the showers was awkward, as their holds were precarious. They were uncaring of the sounds they made, as others in the covered stalls nearby were just as loud. When both came, Theodore pulled out of Harry, followed by a rush of come that clouded the water. They stayed under the spray and tenderly washed one another. Theodore was utterly fascinated with the inky marks sprawled across his lover's abdomen; he would trace a line here and there, as he covered Harry's skin with soapsuds before letting the water wash them away.

When the teens were as clean as they could possibly get, Harry turned off the water and grabbed one of the towels that was sitting on the bench, outside the curtains. Theodore was already drying his body with his own. When Harry was dry, he grabbed his wand and stuck it behind his ear, much as Luna did. Harry secured the towel around his waist and stepped from the shower stall.

Theodore wrapped one arm around Harry as they left the showers. The couple ignored some of the more astonished exclamations of surprise as their classmates caught a view of Harry's marks over his stomach. Murmurs of "Potter's pregnant!" and "Nott's the father?" spread out behind them as other couples broke off their rituals to listen in and comment.

Harry and Theodore didn't care, as they were dressing in fresh clothes in the Slytherin's room. Theodore slightly shrunk some of his wear, as Harry was smaller than his lover. When they were clothed, Theodore sunk to his knees and nuzzled at Harry's abdomen, lifting the shirt with his hands in order to lay butterfly kisses against the marked skin. "Mine," he muttered.

He stood, dropping the shirt as his hands trailed up Harry's body to his face. He tilted his lover's head to the side and peppered kisses along the leather collar and the neck it circled. "Also mine," he whispered.

His final movements were to lift his head and press his lips to Harry's. "All mine," he breathed so faintly Harry could barely hear it.

Harry's eyes closed lightly at the sentiment as he returned the soft gesture. When the couple parted, Harry quietly replied, "As you are mine."

Theodore smiled sweetly and ducked his mouth to Harry's ear. "Count on it, Harry," he returned.

They parted, though their hands remained connected. Together the couple left Theodore's room and headed out of the dungeons for lunch. With a farewell kiss just inside the Great Hall, they separated for their House tables. Already, the sound was increasing in the room as people commented on Harry's supposed pregnancy. The fact that Potter and Nott had kissed in front of everyone in the hall supported one half, that if Harry was knocked up, Theodore was the other father.

"What?" Harry asked when Ron and Hermione silenced at his approach. They had been gossiping with Seamus and Dean on his arrival, but now the quartet was quiet.

"Is it true?" Dean asked Harry.

Harry tipped his head to one side in confusion as he sat and pulled a few items onto his plate.

Ron replied to his unasked question, "Are you really pregnant?"

He shrugged as he took a swallow of juice. "I have the marks, so I suppose I must be. Why?" he returned.

"I still don't think it's possible," Hermione commented from Harry's left.

He turned to her, but someone beat him to responding. "That's magic, Granger," Theodore told the witch.

Harry tilted his head to smile up at his lover. "What's going on?" he questioned.

Theodore lifted one hand to place it on the back of Harry's neck, his fingers gently stroking the skin. He bent over and whispered in Harry's ear, "We should go to Madame Pomfrey so she knows, just in case something should go wrong. But," he added when Harry tensed under him, "the fetus is in a magical shell, so it would be unlikely. Just for safety, let's go today rather than later."

He relaxed as he nodded, and Theodore's hand fell from his neck as Harry stood. "I'll see you later, guys. We're going to Madame Pomfrey," he told them. Their hands tangled together as the unusual couple left the Great Hall, followed by whispers and staring students. The staff was silent for a change, though it might have been they hadn't heard the rumors – the truth.

Madame Pomfrey was belaboring a small group of seventh years, who hadn't planned ahead to purchase their own hangover cures: "I don't understand why the Headmistress allowed you the alcohol, but be sure I'm going to bring it up with her, soon. All of you fools consume my potions, for the sake of losing the headache and vomiting!" As she caught sight of Harry and Theodore entering her wing, she snapped, "Are you two here for a potion cure as well?"

When Theodore shook his head, she jerked a finger to a bed out of the way. With the others finally taken care of and gone, the healer stalked her way to the boys, sitting peacefully side-by-side on the bed she usually kept Harry in. "What have you done this time now, Mr. Potter?" Pomfrey asked as she flicked her wand from her sleeve, prepared to cast diagnosis spells. She had calmed greatly since the others had left and she was with her most common visitor.

Harry blushed and looked into his lap. Theodore was the one to reply, much to Poppy's surprise. "Harry's pregnant," he stated quickly, much like ripping off a bandage.

Pomfrey's eyebrows rose and her wand fell to her side. "Well, that's a surprise, Mr. Potter," she replied. Her spine straitened and her arm lifted again. "Mr. Nott, please move to the chair. Harry, lay on the bed," the woman ordered. When the teens did as commanded, she cast a few diagnostic spells.

She then approached Harry and lifted his shirt, gazing over the whorls of the tattoo. Madame Pomfrey slid his shirt down again and told the couple, "Everything seems to be in order. I expect to see you in here once a week, Mr. Potter, for checkups. You are planning to have the child, correct?" she questioned, gazing at the two teens with a bland expression on her face.

Harry and Theodore nodded firmly to the question. Harry had always wanted a family of his own, though he had pictured a wife instead of him as pregnant, or adoption. Theodore had his Harry, and, though unexpected, a baby came with him.

"Very well then," she replied. "You'll occasionally become dizzy as the fetus draws on your magic. It will receive nutrients from what you eat, so you must become accustomed to eating for two, Mr. Potter. I expect you to remind him to eat at all meals, Mr. Nott," the woman said firmly.

"And Quidditch?" Harry reminded her.

She glanced up and down his body. "I suppose you may participate in the last game of the season since it is next week," she replied with a sigh, "but be sure to thoroughly apply protection spells to your abdomen before doing so. No crazy stunts, Mr. Potter. I only want to see you in here for checkups, no other reason. Now, was there anything else?" The teens shook their heads. "Then all is done. I will see you next Sunday, Mr. Potter," the woman finished. She turned and headed for her office, shutting the door firmly behind her.

"That was anticlimactic," Theodore commented.

Harry nodded as he sat up and swung his legs to the side in order to stand up. "So what are we going to do for the rest of today?" he asked as they left the Hospital Wing. Upon seeing Theodore's heavy gaze, he flushed and muttered, "No, let me rephrase. What are we going to do for the rest of today, in our clothing?"

"Spoil sport," he returned. "Do you want me to explain more about the pregnancy? It would be easier than you attempting to find information in the library, as it requires a pass, and Madame Pomfrey only gave you the small basis of what's going to happen," Theodore said. He took Harry's hand in his and led his complacent lover in the direction of Slytherin dorms. Even if they had to stay dressed, a bed was a more comfortable place to be than the common room with its thousands of questions.

A week later, Harry and Theodore had moved into adjoined rooms prepared for fertile couples. They were among the first, though Draco Malfoy and his girlfriend Daphne Greengrass, also a Slytherin, were seen exiting their rooms down the 'pregnant hallway' a few days after the couple moved in. Hermione and Ron would stop by on occasion, though Theodore and Harry were mostly in their rooms only in the evenings for dinner and through the nights. Weekends were spent at the parties and in Theodore's dorms, where his old bed was kept.

Indeed, two weeks after Harry and his lover started sleeping together, the same week of their joined living spaces, the Gryffindor's tattoos stopped growing. The black twists of ink spiraled from his belly button, curved over the sharp hipbones, and stopped at his sensitive sides. The knot representing Theodore was a tangle of marks, though the Slytherin could follow each when he and Harry lay together. Harry's lightning bolt extended in length until it could only be seen if one knew what to look for.

Four weeks into the pregnancy had Harry bolting from their shared bed one morning, around sunrise – able to be seen from their new room's many windows. Theodore rolled over wearily and grimaced when he heard Harry in the bathroom worshiping the toilet. He tumbled out of the bed and quickly made his way to his lover, brushing the dark hair from the sweaty face and rubbing a soothing hand over Harry's back. Harry gagged a few more times, bile rising with each. Eventually he stopped and sat back, wiping at his mouth with the back of one hand.

"I suppose this is the morning sickness, then," Theodore commented once Harry was on his feet and cleaned up.

Harry glared. "What gave you that idea, Theodore?" he questioned, his voice frosty.

Theodore smirked and wrapped a comforting arm around Harry's waist, leading him back to their bed. "You may be surprised. I've heard morning sickness differs. You could have it every day, or only a few times a week," he responded when they were comfortable.

The Gryffindor flipped over to knock on the wooden headboard, which brought Theodore to raise a single eyebrow. "It's a Muggle thing," Harry explained. "It's said to prevent bad luck in the form of words from sticking, or something along those lines. The explanation was pretty vague, which wasn't surprising since it came from my aunt to Dudley; he's not the brightest."

The duo was peaceful for a little while. Theodore had slipped into a light doze when Harry spoke again. "Although," he amended, "if I get sick every morning, you will find yourself waking up cold."

Theodore was happy Harry never had to stay with that promise. He was only sick once or twice for a couple weeks as his body adjusted to the fetus growing in a cocoon of his magic.

The school year ended two weeks later with the N. E. W. T. testing, something most students stressed over. Harry was lucky he had Theodore there to relieve him of the stress, as it was bad for the baby, even in its magical shell. Graduation went by with no hardships, and soon the two teens were packing.

The evidence of Harry's pregnancy was the pattern of intricate tattoos and a small, gentle bump just under his naval. He was showing early, as the pregnancy was a month shorter than a female pregnancy, since the baby grew off of magic. "You'll be moving in with me, then?" Theodore asked as he gathered his belongings and chucked them into his trunk with no rhyme or reason.

Harry tipped his head. "Will it be safe?" he responded.

Theodore's movements jerked and the last couple of objects missed their destination. He spun around and grabbed Harry in his arms, falling forward to the bed, catching his weight with his arms so as not to crush his lover. Harry stared up into his eyes uncertainly and Theodore mentally cursed his family and their previous association with the Dark Lord. "You are mine," he whispered as he nuzzled his face into Harry's neck, pressing kisses against warm skin and cool leather. "My family will remember that, or else," he continued, slowly lowering his body until he rested fully on Harry.

"Mmm, if you say so," Harry moaned out. His capture by Theodore felt nice, rather than being trapped against his will, like he had been in the past. His arousal spiked as Theodore lapped at a darkened mark on Harry's neck. "No time if we want to catch the train," he complained, lazily attempting to push his lover off of him.

Theodore broke off to glance at his wand, which spitted the time at his command. "We have almost two hours; that should be time enough, unless you only want a quickie on the train," he told his lover.

"Mmm," Harry groaned out, catching his lover's mouth with his own.

Theodore smiled against his lips. "I know what your answer is," he replied huskily as he kissed a trail down Harry's neck. He was met with a laugh and Theodore shifted to work at the buttons to his lover's shirt, covering each revealed inch of flesh with tender traces of his tongue and lips. Harry was arching into the touches as delighted little gasps of air escaped his mouth.

Theodore worked lower over Harry's body, coming to a stop at the tattoos and baby bump. Harry wove a hand into his lover's dark hair. A tongue traced over the lines as fingers unbuttoned Harry's pants and shoved them down to the floor. Theodore split his attention between preparing Harry with a few fingers and licking at each square millimeter of skin covered in magical ink.

When Harry was squirming and moaning under his touch, Theodore pulled away and stripped out of his clothes. He coated his erection in lubricant and fell on his back to the bed. One hand grabbed for Harry and tugged the smaller male over him. "Ride me, Lover Boy," he said.

"You suck," Harry breathlessly replied as one of his hands steadied Theodore's arousal under him as he settled over it, taking him deep into his body.

Theodore smirked and returned, "Only for you, Harry," as his hands wrapped around Harry's hips to help the slow, rocking movements.

Harry batted away the hands and braced his own on Theodore's stomach, using his knees and thighs to rise up until his lover was just barely in him. He slammed back down, teasing an almost-scream from Theodore's mouth at the suddenly tight, encasing heat. Harry threw his head back as his lover's cock ran over the bundle of nerves that made up his prostate. Theodore's thrusting hips quickly brought Harry to release over his lover's chest.

"You look utterly debauched," Theodore mumbled out as he grabbed Harry and gently rolled over on top of him, staying inside the warm heat of his lover. He kissed a panting Harry as he slowly drew out before starting a pounding tempo. It wasn't long before he reached his peak, coming in Harry. He fell, temporarily exhausted, to the bed next to Harry, pulling his lover into his arms and burying his face in the slightly sweaty hair. "You defeated Voldemort. You put up with my possessive tendencies in and out of bed, Harry. If anything happens this summer, I'm positive you can handle my parents. As well, I will always be there." His arms tightened around Harry's waist.

Harry smiled softly and turned his head to press a gentle kiss to his lover's neck. One of Theodore's hands cupped the small bump of their child and a thumb gently brushed back and forth. "I love you, Theodore Nott," Harry replied quietly.

"And I love you, Harry Potter," Theodore told him. "Now, come on. We should finish packing as the train leaves soon." He rolled away from Harry and out of bed, stretching his arms and shoulders. The straining muscles were quite lovely to look at and to touch, Harry thought with pleasure and happiness.

Theodore grabbed his wand and cleaned his skin of sweat and Harry's essence, and then turned to his lover and cleaned him as well. Harry squirmed on the bed as the spell emptied his insides and the movements were so tempting to Theodore. He could care less about packing to return home; all he really wanted to do at the moment was crawl back into bed with Harry and love him. "Here, get dressed," Theodore said as he picked up dropped clothing and tossed them at his partner.

Harry sat up and pouted, but dutifully complied and was soon out of bed and gathering the items still scattered around their rooms. A while later, a bell rung and Theodore swore. "We need to get to the carriages quickly; I don't want you to Apparate or Floo to the manor since you don't know where we are going."

"Okay," Harry replied while adding an eye-roll as Theodore turned his back.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, Harry, or else," Theodore retorted to Harry's surprise.

Harry charmed his trunk feather-light and dragged it behind him as he left their chambers. "Or what?"

Theodore quickened his pace until he was walking next to Harry. "Or else no sex for three days," he returned.

Harry scoffed. "Well that's no fun." He glanced around the nearly deserted hallways, sighing sadly. "Do you realize this is the last time we will be here, at Hogwarts, as students?" he asked softly.

Theodore took Harry's hand and squeezed gently. "We have graduated already. And if you really miss this place, I'm sure the Headmistress will let you back. Besides, our child will be coming here, unless you don't want them to come to Hogwarts."

"Here, definitely," Harry responded, continuing with, "Even if I didn't have the best experiences, this place is home to me so far."

Theodore smirked at the words 'so far.' It meant there was a chance Harry would like the manor more; Theodore was set out to prove to Harry he would be safe, and that Theodore's childhood dwellings would become Harry's home as well.

After a quick pat to the carriage-pulling thestrals, the lovers went from the carriages to the train with little trouble. They found an empty compartment and placed their trunks in the carry-on space above their heads. Harry curled up next to Theodore on the bench, resting his cheek against his lover's chest as Theodore's chin perched on his head and arms went around his middle.

Harry dozed for most of the ride, sometimes waking long enough to talk to the occasional student who stopped by; Ron and Hermione rode with them for a while, but eventually the couple returned to their prefect duties. It was the last time they would ever have them, and Hermione, not so much Ron, wanted to finish out the year right. Harry gave Ron his apologies.

Theodore stayed awake, fingers carding through Harry's messy mop of hair as he thought. He would sometimes stare down at his pregnant lover in slight awe, but he mostly concentrated on the coming situation. His parents knew he was gay and had gotten another seventh year pregnant, but Theodore had left out just whom he slept with and knocked up.

He meant it, though, what he told to Harry. If his parents – his ex-Death Eater father and Dark-inclined mother – meant any harm to his love, he would protect Harry and their unborn child. His parents were open to the fact that he had already gotten his lover pregnant though, he mused. They shouldn't have any trouble accepting Potter, soon to be Nott. After all – here, he snorted – Harry was one of the richest wizards alive, what with both the Potter and Black family inheritances to his name.

The train whistled then, startling the man out of his thoughts. He nudged his lover, still slumped comfortably against his chest, and smiled when Harry protested tiredly. Theodore pressed a tender kiss to Harry's adorned forehead and cupped the growth behind the other's naval gently. "We're here, Harry," the Nott heir whispered.

The sole Potter smiled, leaning into the offered lips and eventually standing. He shook away the remaining sleepiness and gathered his trunk, which he shrunk and slipped into a pocket of his pants; the duo had discarded robes and kept the remainder of their school uniforms on – black shoes and slacks with a white shirt. Theodore kept his tie around his neck, while Harry tucked his red, Gryffindor colored one away.

"Shall we?" Harry asked, offering his outstretched hand to Theodore. His lover gripped it firmly and pulled Harry next to him as they left the train carriage and descended to the platform. Theodore glanced around for his parents and eventually spotted them, hidden in the shadows next to one of the station's supporting pillars.

"Are you ready?" Theodore murmured to Harry, changing directions to meet his parents.

Harry nodded bravely next to him; Theodore grinned as much as he dared while in public.

They approached the elder Notts quickly. The couple stepped out from the shadows and greeted their son. Theodore leaned down to kiss his mother on the cheek, saying, "Mother," as he did so. The woman was small boned but still managed to be tall, and was only an inch shorter than Harry. Her hair was the same dark brunette color as Theodore's, but it was longer and had defined curls.

Theodore shook hands with his father; the teen was equal in height with the man, though the elder was thinner. He was gaunt, having never really recovered from the second fall of the Dark Lord. His hair was a light brown, almost blond color. The eyes that targeted in on Harry were a piercing blue with slightly bloodshot whites.

Harry hid his almost-chills behind a well-kept mask of indifference. A small spark of happiness jumped into Harry's eyes when he felt his partner squeeze his hand tightly.

"Mother, Father, this is Harry Potter. Harry, my parents, Augustine and Phalen Nott."

Harry released Theodore's hand to shake Augustine's, and to drop a kiss on the back of Phalen's extended hand. Theodore had coached him in that respect while in the carriage and Harry appreciated it.

Phalen appraised the thin teen before her, the one who caught her son's heart. Her eyes flickered to her husband and his unmoving position before she sighed airily. "Shall we return to the manor?"

At Theodore's grateful almost-smile, Augustine moved and told his wife, "Yes." He turned to his son. "I assume you can side-along Mr. Potter?" His tone was rather stiff and Phalen silently marked that as something to fix.

Theodore pulled Harry against him and the gentleness with which he held Harry to his body, firm and tight, yet careful and loving, made Phalen break her pureblood mask and grin. Luckily, no one was eyeing the Notts too much, so nobody particularly noticed her break in mannerisms. Well, Augustine did, but Phalen brushed his slight annoyance off. She would have to talk with the man before they joined the teenagers. A brief spin later and Theodore and Harry were gone.

Before her husband could Apparate after them, Phalen grabbed his wrist and glared. "We will talk in the garden before intruding on those two. I have words that must be spoken to you, Augustine, and you will do well to hear them."

The man snarled silently and was gone, leaving behind a smirking, yet worried Phalen. She disappeared a moment later, a small crack of displaced air signaling her departure.

The woman watched Augustine pace back and forth over the path set before her bench. Phalen remained calm and relaxed, as casual as any pureblood could be. "I do not understand," he told her, coming to a halt and falling back onto the bench, softened by cushioning charms. "Why would he choose Potter, of all people? Does he not realize what that boy has done to me, to this family?"

Phalen sighed. "My Sweet, that does not matter. Do you not recognize the love our Theodore, our cold and seemingly heartless son, holds for him? You know Theodore has never been free in expressing his emotions, but you saw him at the station, holding on to that boy as if he would disappear."

Augustine took his hand in hers, cradling the smooth flesh with tenderness. "I suppose we would be unable to persuade Theodore otherwise?" the man asked quietly.

"You would not dare," Phalen threatened.

Her husband smiled down at her, his battle worn flesh crinkling with amusement. "I would not dream of it, Love."

"Good," she responded, slowly returning her husband's smile. His own grew along with hers until the couple were clutching at one another through waves of laughter. When recovered, Phalen whispered, "Oh, we have not laughed this much in years."

"I have missed it," he murmured against his wife's neat curls.

She stood abruptly, but continued to hold on to the man's hand. "Come, we must return. I believe we should be introduced less formally to our son's carrier. After all, he will become a member of this family soon."

Rather than barge into the open room her son occupied, Phalen watched from her hidden position next to the bookcase. Her man stood quietly next to Phalen, watching the two boys interact. Augustine could barely hide his shock; his son, so withdrawn since he had learned to mask his emotions, had the most wonderful of expressions donning his sharp features. Dark hair tumbled down in messy curls, nearly blocking his eyes, but Augustine could still glimpse the love and awe the dark blue orbs held.

Harry straddled Theodore's lap, arms comfortably wrapped around the ex-Slytherin's neck with Theodore's around his waist. Their low conversation went unheard, but the elder Notts could clearly see Harry's grin each time their son said or did something. Phalen noticed her child's thumbs were situated in such a position as to rub the gentle swell of Harry's stomach, prominent beneath the thin shirt.

One of Harry's hands switched from Theodore's neck to brush the dark curls away from dark eyes. Harry then leaned forward to press his lips against the barred forehead, having to dip his head slightly as he was perched higher than Theodore.

It was then Phalen and Augustine saw the collar wrapped around Potter's neck. It merely looked like simple black leather, but they could see the glints of silver and metallic black thread interwoven into the base. The small, silver ring rested at the front of Harry's throat like a choker's dangle. There was no obvious clasp.

Their son tilted his head forward while pulling Harry against him. The elder couple heard Potter's amused laugh as Theodore nipped at his neck affectionately. When Harry finally moved off of Theodore's lap, curling up next to him on the sofa instead, Phalen and Augustine entered the room quietly. They seated themselves on the opposite couch, all prim and proper like their blood called for. At Theodore's glare, Phalen smirked and settled back, relaxing in the privacy of her family.

"Hmm," she mused.

"What is it, Mother?" Theodore responded. Harry was curious as to his lover's formality with his parents, but focused on his soon-to-be mother-in-law instead.

Phalen shrugged. "I'm just wondering when the bonding ceremony should be. It is already the end of June; there is little need to wait."

Augustine's glare at his wife was carefully hidden away. Even if Theodore was more open, he still didn't want the defeater of his master becoming part of the family. His sigh was light, as he knew Potter was already knocked up; there was little to deter the brat from joining the family now. With years of practice, Augustine held back his flinch at the venom in his wife's eyes. She had caught his dislike of the situation. Lucky for him, his son and Potter weren't aware of it, or so he thought.

Harry held Theodore's hand in his own; on seeing the elder man's lack of happiness at the situation, he squeezed tightly. Harry shivered lightly as Theodore bent his head and, against the curve of his ear, whispered, "Mine," warm exhales tickling smooth skin. Theodore then lifted his face and replied, "Any time is fine with us, Mother."

"Fantastic," Phalen replied, clapping her hands together with a sound of finality.

Augustine shifted on the couch and sighed, resigned.

Theodore smirked with the feeling of winning over his father.

And Harry wondered about just what he was getting into.

Later that night, Theodore wrapped an arm over his lover's rising and falling stomach, and pulled Harry against him. "I don't think your father likes me," Harry muttered.

Theodore smiled grimly and replied, "He'll learn or he will have to deal with it. Mother loves you already, and you have been mine for quite a while."

Harry rolled on his side to gaze at Theodore, a bright smile overtaking his features. "Thank you," he mumbled before pressing their mouths together briefly. He then cuddled in closer to his lover and closed his eyes. Theodore's lips turned up softly and he stroked Harry's hair before joining his fiancé in sleep.

Life at Nott manor was anything but usual, especially to Harry. His new life, so infinitely different from his previous life at the Dursleys (the teensy, tiny bedrooms, multiple chores, and cruel relatives), was pleasurable in multiple ways. He may not have been planning the ceremony, as Phalen took care of that with minimal input from her husband, son, or son-in-law, but he could relax and learn more about the father of his child.

Theodore had always been quiet, Harry knew, but that was really all. He would often shadow the other Slytherins around, but before the parties, Harry had only heard him speak in response to a professor's question. While Theodore still wasn't loquacious, he did speak more often, usually a whisper against Harry's ear.

The Nott manor was vast, surrounded by rolling hills as far as the eye could see. Harry learned that the other pureblood families all owned property nearby, as the old Welsh land had been theirs for generations upon generations. Theodore took Harry out most days to explore the grounds surrounding the massive household, both as a way to show Harry his new home and to give his lover a form of exercise outside of the bedroom.

Meanwhile, Phalen decorated a few of the grandiose ballrooms in preparation for the upcoming bonding ceremony. The rooms transformed from plain, slate-gray stone to works of art, filled with old relics of both households. Those from the Potter family were obtained from Harry's vaults beneath Gringotts; one of the tasks Phalen took upon herself was to neaten up and catalogue each item in the vaults as preparation for the families to merge.

Harry knew little of Phalen's plans, outside of lending her the keys to his vaults. Theodore kept him occupied with discovering the manor, both inside and out, along with lots of exploratory sex.

The day before the bonding came up surprisingly quick; Theodore was hustled out of Harry's sight that night and hidden away until Harry was grinning nervously at him from opposite sides of the trellis where the bonding officiator stood. Both were dressed in light robes, prepared for the unseasonably warm August day.

Friends and family clapped as they were pronounced bonded, silvery coils of magic twining about their hands and sinking into their skin, leaving no marks save plain silver bands around their left-hand ring fingers – the only finger with a vein leading directly to the heart. They kissed gently, a mere press of lips to lips, and then faced their guests, bowing as one.

The reception was filled with people coming up to the husbands and greeting them with statements of congratulations alongside gifts for their child. Eventually Harry was lost to the overwhelming crowds – after all, it's not every day that the Savior of the Wizarding world gets bonded – and Theodore took him away with the promises of rest.

The honeymoon wasn't anything besides the two of them in the Nott manor alone for two weeks, filled with plenty of sex on just about every available surface, both inside and out. It was a relaxing vacation from the real world, just Theodore and Harry and the promise of a child in five months.

Harry's birthday passed with a minor celebration, mainly the Weasley and Nott families together. Harry and Theodore stayed up until midnight on the thirtieth, kissing each other into Harry's birthday before they fell asleep cuddled together.

By the end of September, Harry had fully been accepted into the Nott family. Augustine no longer gave him glances that had to be smacked off his face by Phalen, and Theodore wasn't as overprotective around his own father. Harry relaxed into the life, wondering how the new school year at Hogwarts was going and whether or not the oldest students would also be performing the pregnancy trials in May.

His belly grew full with their child, and the Healer hired by the Nott family proclaimed to the husbands that they would be having a son. Harry and Theodore were overjoyed by the news; while having a daughter would be wonderful, they weren't exactly sure how to raise one, considering neither man had any experiences with what that was like.

By November, Harry was kept to bed rest on orders of the Healer. She acknowledged that it was Harry's first time with a child, and that the risks associated with female pregnancies were more potent in men, that strenuous activity could cause Harry to go into early labor.

No Nott took a chance with Harry's health; all of Harry's needs were catered to, whether they were shoulder rubs at any time of day, or the odd cravings that never really faded once the morning sickness disappeared. Their sex life was put on hold, though Harry was consistently horny, since they couldn't find a comfortable position for either of them. Harry wanted his son in his arms sooner rather than later; he missed the physical intimacy, though his emotional wellbeing was cared for exponentially.

It was soon the time of Yule, with the mansion decorated in wreaths of red, green, and white. The Notts, like their family before them and the purebloods around them, were Pagans, the main religion the Wizarding world followed before the Muggleborns introduced Christianity and others. It was the season of regeneration and renewal, something of a coincidence considering Harry and Theodore's baby was due the week after Yule, along with many other pure- and half-bloods from their year.

The holiday was celebrated with families Theodore had grown up with, considering the Weasleys didn't follow the Pagan traditions. There were numerous couples present, some whose bonding ceremonies Harry and Theodore had attended, others who were potential couples, but waiting for the proper season before fully engaging in their physicality. The gods and goddesses were toasted before the feast and after, as the many guests relaxed in the time of peace. Gifts were exchanged, and many were toys for the coming children. Six days after the holiday, December twenty-seventh, Harry woke with sharp pains around the whorls on his belly. He cried out for his husband, who immediately sent off a house elf to his parents and the Healer who had taken residence at the manor with the due date's approach.

Harry was sedated and Theodore held his hand as the black curves across Harry's distended abdomen split apart, droplets of blood running down the pale skin. He kissed his husband's knuckles as the Healer put her hands into Harry's stomach before pulling out the newborn, shrieking his way into their world. The umbilical cord was cut and their son cleaned and wrapped in blankets before the Healer Vanished the afterbirth and encouraged the tattoos to merge back together so she could heal the wounds.

Harry woke at a brief wand-wave and he immediately stretched his hands out for their child, murmuring "Septimus Pisces Nott" into the scarce hair on the baby's head. Theodore wrapped himself around his husband and son, pressing his lips into Harry's hair as the bed sheets were cleaned around them and they were left in peace. "He's perfect," he whispered to Harry, smiling down at the sight of their child resting on Harry's chest, his husband molded to his side.

Harry peered up at him and grinned. "We did good, my love," he replied, pressing a kiss to Theodore's chin.

It was a week before anyone could come into the room, seven days of raising an infant to know their magical signatures and connect them with the feelings of safe, love, family. Though Septimus cried often, and loudly, his parents treasured him, loved their son and the evidence of their union. The baby weight dropped from Harry's frame quickly, leaving him the thin, toned teenager his husband loved and admired and worshipped.

Phalen and Augustine greeted the new family with bright smiles and warm affection, holding Septimus carefully with Harry and Theodore's unblinking attention. The boy reacted well to his grandparents, giving toothless smiles and happy gurgles.

By late January, Septimus was able to look all around him with infant curiosity, and March had him rolling over for Theodore's nineteenth birthday. Early May had Harry and Theodore chasing their son around the mansion as he learned to crawl – and he wasn't slow with it either. The couple never thanked magic more than when their son approached the stairs and was deterred by the childproof magical gates.

May also brought up the subject of more children. Harry wanted more than one child, and Theo was more than happy to practice baby making. But it wasn't until June that the two noticed the tattoos spreading over Harry's sides again, expanding until they merged at his lower back and grew up and down the ridges of his spine.

The husbands were grateful Septimus slept soundly through the night by this point, because Harry couldn't imagine getting interrupted by infant wails when Theodore was tracing the magical ink with his fingers and tongue, flipping Harry onto his stomach and following the marks down his back and further, face buried between Harry's cheeks and readying him for things more to come, or when Theodore was pressing into him, licking at the marks reaching toward Harry's shoulders and the collar that began their relationship, dark against Harry's pale skin. Thankfully, their cries of pleasure never reached the nursery.

Harry started showing by early July, which was a few weeks earlier than when he was pregnant with Septimus. They didn't worry about it, figuring Harry's body was adjusting differently for the second pregnancy.

August had little Septimus starting to stand and walk, along with happy squeals of vague words. The month also answered the curiosity of why Harry was getting large so early – he was pregnant with twins. Harry and Theodore were overwhelmed with the new development, enough that Septimus stayed with Augustine and Phalen for a few days while they adjusted to the idea of having two babies and a one-year-old at the same time. Together the husbands soothed any worries away and returned to their son and Theodore's parents. Harry growled upon learning Augustine had taught Septimus to call Harry "Mama" and Theo "Dada" and that their child would no longer respond favorably to any attempts to teach him "Papa" or some other derivative of a paternal term. Harry pouted and hoarded his son away from Augustine for days, until Phalen and Theodore convinced him to let the man back into his grandson's life. Harry still smacked Augustine upside the head if he cursed before Septimus, since it was obvious the child couldn't wait to repeat everything his grandfather said.

Harry lost sight of his feet far earlier than when he had Septimus in him, and the Healer confined him to bed in October, saying how twins were born at around seven months and they weren't going to take any chances what so ever with the Nott babies. It was up to Theodore to chase their screaming Septimus around the indoor gardens while Harry watched, staring fondly at his husband and first-born, a hand gently resting on his distended abdomen. The magical greenhouses kept the plants alive and heat consistent through the cold Welsh winter. The days grew shorter as their due date approached, and soon Augustine and Phalen were caring for Septimus as December grew older.

The birthing pains began late on December eleventh, with the twins coming into the world early on the twelfth. Theodore whispered their names this time, from Octavia Schulyar, their first daughter, to Naos Justinian, her younger twin brother. Many sleepless nights through the bonding week were in order for both Harry and Theodore, as the four family members became magically acquainted. Septimus met the twins the day before Yule, and the entire family went to the Malfoy home for the Yuletide celebrations. People cooed over the twins, as they were a rarity with witches, and even more so with two wizards. Harry and Theodore remained proud and cared naught for pureblood diction as they held their children to their chests, Harry cradling a twin in each arm and Septimus squirming in his Dada's grasp.

But the small family was happy as they cuddled together in bed, Septimus babbling happily to the attentive Octavia and Naos. Harry and Theodore smiled fondly at one another and Theodore traced the whorls on Harry's belly with gentle fingers.

The twins were returned to their shared crib, asleep for the moment; Septimus was placed in his crib, talking to himself and the many stuffed animals he slept with until he tired himself out and fell asleep; Harry and Theo cuddled together on their bed, exchanging sweet kisses and gentle terms of endearment, with the promise of no more children for at least a full year.

All was well.

Story Notes:

Augustine Nott – father

Phalen Nott – mother (Pronounced "FAY-lin")

Theodore Nott – son

Harry James Nott nee. Potter(-Black) – son-in-law

Septimus Pisces Nott – boy, with Nott inheritance

Octavia Schulyar Nott – girl, with Potter inheritance (Pronounced "SKY-lar"), twin

Naos Justinian Nott – boy, with Black inheritance (Pronounced "NAY-us"), twin


I hope you enjoyed this story and I hope it's not too confusing! Please leave any issues - grammatical or typos - you see in a review or in a PM, or message me on my tumblr account (feel free to follow me!): sweetlydesolated dot tumblr dot com