The Shattered and The Wicked

Chapter Three

Rosier smirked as he finally finished opening up the wards to his cousin's manor, allowing his fellow Death Eaters to enter. It always took a while for him to de-activate all of the precautions, as his cousin was an insane and paranoid old hag. If it didn't fall to him to protect all of the priceless dark artifacts that the Dark Lord had had, he would have permanently disabled the wards and replaced them with simpler ones. It wasn't as if the Ministry hadn't already deigned the property abandoned. No matter the condition though, it belonged to the Black bloodline, and no Minister had the power to confiscate and demolish it. Because of this, his cousin's manor was simply perfect for their efforts, and especially so now that they had finally found and captured the Potter boy. The foul man held in his snicker as he watched the last of their group enter, before stepping aside to let Malfoy take the lead. He may be the one offering house, but that didn't mean he wanted to be in charge. He was more a man of the shadows, slippery and mysterious.
"My friends, today marks the day we take the next step towards bringing our wondrous Lord back. Receiving the assistance of a fellow Death Eater, we have the brat responsible for our Lord's demise chained underneath our feet. Let us go pay him a visit, shall we?" Lucius, ever the showman, swept his arm outwards while shifting to the side to gesture towards a dark stairwell.
A fierce growl erupted from the back of the group and many men separated to allow the hulking form of Fenrir Greyback to stalk through. "Yes, I can smell a child." Many grins grew sharp and eyes flashed steel as the Death Eater's suspicions were abated. The Potter child really had been found and captured.
Without a second glance towards his fellow murderers, the werewolf strode forward to lumber down the creaking stairs of Bellatrix's dungeon. And what a dungeon it was, as Fenrir relaxed in the strong stench of blood, fear, and pain. Bella must have used this dungeon for longer than Fenrir had thought to make the scent so strongly embedded in the walls.
The rest of the Death Eaters could be heard following Fenrir's path as the werewolf simply stood a few feet from the base of the stairs, having finally caught sight of the small boy on the ground in the nearest cell. He almost looked like a felled angel, long hair swept up in swirls around him and crystalized sweat sparkling in the light from the stairwell on his naked body. The vomit and empty cuffs near his side did not diminish the natural beauty that beheld him. If Fenrir hadn't known who this child was, he would have been hard pressed to see anything masculine about the boy, other than his obvious genitalia.
Fenrir ignored the jeers and leers that his fellows shot at the boy as he took a curious sniff. The boy looked... odd, and Fenrir quickly figured out why. Sniffing rapidly in confusion, the werewolf ignored Malfoy's speech and walked closer to the 'savior'. He smelled of male and female, but also of fertility. No male was capable of smelling such a way naturally, and no female would smell this way so young. Sniffing around the other cells, and garnering the attention and ire of a few of the other Death Eaters, Fenrir concluded that the scent was indeed coming from the boy.
"Well, Fenrir? What's got you acting like a bitch in heat?"
The werewolf could feel his hackles rising as he growled at Yaxley. "Insult me again, coward."
"Yaxley." The Malfoy patriarch slipped between the two males and silenced the wizard with a warning glare before turning politely curious eyes to Fenrir. "Just what were you doing, Greyback?"
The werewolf Death Eater sighed in annoyance. "The boy," Fenrir nodded at the still form in the cell, "is pregnant."
A gasp rang through the silent dungeon as eyes all swiveled to pin the wide, emerald gaze of the awakened prisoner.
"I-I-I'm..." Freak ignored everything around him as he bent his head to stare silently at his stomach, a hand coming up to rub lightly at the surface. Warmth spread through his body again as his brain quickly added the pieces together. Everything was clicking together like an elaborate puzzle. He had been throwing up for a long time for seemingly no reason, and his stomach always hurt when he laid on it. It made so much sense from what he had heard from the other sex slaves. Freak vividly remembered the abuse one of the girls went through when her stomach swelled. The guards called her all different forms of insults, and, if he strained himself to remember, some of them did include the word 'pregnant'. Not only that, but any time any of the girls threw up for more than three days at a time, they were hauled off, kicking and screaming, and never seen again.
A sudden, loud sound snapped Freak out of his thoughts, and he leapt to his feet with a hand splayed in front of his stomach, ignoring the pains spread throughout his body. A snarl rested on Freak's lips, but it faltered when he heard the whole group's laughter.
"Fenrir, you must be a fool! To mistake a small boy for being swollen with another's child is preposterous!"
"Gravida puer." A white light flew from Malfoy's wand, and Freak, not knowing what it was, agilely jumped out of the way. Silence reigned in the Death Eater group as everyone stared at the Malfoy patriarch. One of the blonde man's eyes twitched as he threw the spell again, but Freak once more evaded it by ducking underneath. This cycle continued for a few more spells before Lucius finally had enough. "Be still boy! The spell will merely tell us if you are indeed pregnant or not."
Staring at the blonde man for a few long seconds, Freak debated the idea of spells and possible effects before slowly nodding his consent. The boy stayed perfectly still as the white light sailed again and finally landed on him, causing two auras of color to glow around Freak.
One blue, one pink.