home is where the heart is (and you hold mine)

what are we to do (except plan and forge ahead)

Chapter 4

what are we to do (except plan and forge ahead)

They had relocated to the Room of Requirement, in which Harry had flopped himself down on the sofa that had been conjured. Hermione and Ron were still silent and pale, but Harry was too busy trying to think about what this means.

He's pregnant with Voldemort's child, which could have an appeal of sorts toward the Dark Lord; maybe he wants an heir? A little Dark Lord junior that can emulate his father or sire or whatever the fuck Voldemort is because Harry sure as hell didn't allow his prick up his arse. (That brought up multiple images that were very much not wanted and traumatizing)

There was silence as they mulled over what was revealed, which seemed to take up the entirety of the room. Harry hummed and quietly asked Hogwarts for any books on male pregnancy. A stack of books thunked loudly on to the coffee table in front of him and he snatched up the first book that he could reach, though he was mindful of his bandaged hand.

Ron and Hermione started at the noise, then proceeding to just stare at the books. After a bit, they both grabbed one and began reading, while Harry wondered if they were going to actually acknowledge the child that they just found out he was carrying.

He flipped mindlessly through the book and blinked at realizing that it was telling about the stages of male pregnancy and how big the baby was during each new month. Harry blinked when he saw how big his baby was. About the size of a grain of rice – ¼ inch long. The mouth, lower jaw, and throat are developing while it was so fucking tiny. Blood cells are taking shape and circulation had beginning, with the tiny little heart tube beating 65 times a minute apparently. All by the end of the fourth week.

Harry blinked, processing the information. hummed and flipped through before looking up at his friends.

"Will you guys be the godparents?"

Ron let out a startled sound and nearly dropped his book; Hermione let out a squeak, peaking up from her book with wide eyes. There was a beat of silence before there was a breathless laugh from Hermione.

"Sure why not? This child is going to need some voice of reason in their life."

Ron gave Hermione an unimpressed look. "Says the girl who set a Professor on fire in her first year." Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Better than you who was just bewailing the fact that Harry was going to fall; I look for a solution."

Ron opened his mouth before closing it again; he glared and slumped back, looking very put out. Harry snorted and crossed his legs, throwing them onto the couch. He got a betrayed look for his amusement, to which he just shrugged. "It's true – although, at least you get to be Uncle Ron who has all the wicked cool ideas."

Ron brightened and smile. "Yeah! I'll be their favorite!" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Ok," he amended, "I'll be their second favorite."

Harry nodded in a decisive manner and rubbed his stomach softly. He was carrying a baby; he was going to have a child. Would they have red hair or dark hair? Maybe they would have blue eyes or his dad's hazel eyes? And they would have a little onesie that would have deer on it and Harry imagined Christmas with their little nose having a red dot and a reindeer onesie – Harry froze when a single question came up in his mind.

"Where am I going to raise the child?"

There was a beat of silence as both of his friends stared at him in horror. "We don't have a place for any of the baby stuff... a bassinet, a crib, a pram... clothes, nappies, bottles..." Hermione snatched up her satchel and began scribbling madly with the pad and biro she had begun carrying around since Harry had told them about his Necromancer Inheritance. Most wizards didn't care for muggle stuff so it was far better than parchment, which also took up far more space and writing with ink was just too much work.