Shattered Souls • Hedric

Chapter Twenty-seven

The pain was worse then the Cruciatus curse that Voldemort tortured him with that night in the graveyard. The pain was worse then anything that uncle Vernon or Amos Diggory had inflicted on him. The pain was unlike anything he had ever felt before and yet he welcomed it, embraced it.

"Don't fight it, pup." A gruff voice said from the cell next to his. "Breathe through the pain."

Harry was sitting in the corner of his cell, knees drawn up and arms wrapped around his large contracting stomach. He had been laboring all night and now it was almost time. The contractions were coming almost nonstop now and he was starting to feel the urge to push.

"You can do this, baby Potter." Bellatrix coo'd. "You're about to be a mummy," she said wistfully.

Harry bit his lip so hard that he tasted blood pour into his mouth. He had to be quite, he couldn't risk the guards coming to investigate. His glamours fell with the first contraction and he couldn't restore them, no matter how hard he tried. If they were to look in his cell now, they would find a scrawny yet obviously pregnant boy huddled in the corner of his cold damp cell.

For hours now he had labored without making a sound. His arms were littered with bite marks from where he had bitten himself to keep from screaming. He couldn't believe that he was about to give birth on this filthy stone floor that probably hadn't been cleaned since the place was built.

"Don't give up now, pup, it's almost time." Fenrir grunted, wishing that he could help the small boy. He had never seen a male deliver a babe before, but he had helped a few of the women in his pack deliver.

"I-I can't." Harry whispered.

"Yes you can, pup. That little one needs you to be strong, it can't do it on its own."

Tears were pouring down Harry's face as another painful contraction tore through his small, undernourished body. The urge to push was getting stronger, but he was too scared to try. He was terrified that his magic would be too weak to cast a silencio once the baby was born. As long as his child was inside of him, it was safe from the guards and Amos Diggory. If he couldn't keep it's cries silent, then the guards would hear and they would take his baby away from him.

Uncurling himself from his protective ball, Harry crawled to his thin, mouse eaten cot and laid down on his back. The cot was nothing more then a thin mattress that was placed on the ground that had a dirty sheet and a ripped up scratchy blanket. The same sheet and blanket had been on his cot since he arrived eight months ago and they were filthy and smelled bad. The only other possession he was given was a large thick robe that was equally as dirty and smelly as the sheet and blanket.

His body was screaming at him to push and he could no longer fight it. With his knees drawn up and feet flat on the cot, he pushed with everything he had in him. It took five pushes before he finally felt his baby slide from his body and onto the disgusting cot. Despite the pain and dizziness, he reached down between his legs and lifted the tiny body up and placed it on his stomach. Grabbing the sheet that he had ripped off his cot earlier, he started to vigorously rub his baby to stimulate it and get it breathing.

Fenrir started to sing a loud lewd song when he heard tiny cries coming from the cell next to his. He knew that the pup would be too weak and tired to cast any spells right now, so he was trying to drown out the newborn pup's cries. The pup was incredibly powerful to be able to cast wandless spells in Azkaban. As far as he knew, no other prisoner had been able to perform magic in the magic dampening cells.

It was hard, but Harry finally managed to sit up clutching his baby tight to his bare chest. Laying his child down on a dry part of his cot, he started to clean the baby off as best as he could.