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Chapter Text

“If mister Harry Potter is sure…”

“Yes, Dobby, I’m sure.” Harry tried to console, hopefully sounding more confident than he felt. As it was, he was hardly able to keep his heart from beating out of his chest from nerves.

It had not been easy to convince the elf to take him to Malfoy Manor, of all places, but it had been his best shot. While the elf was always so ready to help him, he was also very adamant at keeping Harry out of danger. Not that Dobby was good at keeping Harry safe, but... he meant well. 

Harry had at first thought to use the Thestrals, like the year before to the Ministry, but that would have only gotten him to the Malfoy’s property, not inside it. The estate’s centuries old wards were not something he, a sixth-year student, could get past on his own. So even though he hadn’t wanted to bring anyone into this deranged mission of his, Dobby had been necessary. He was familiar with the place and, most importantly, could get past the wards. Through whatever magic house elves had, Dobby was able to pop them both into the room that Voldemort was given.

After his reveal at the Ministry last year, Harry wasn’t sure if the dark wizard really stayed here all the time or not. The ministry was incompetent, but they would at least be searching for the wizard, or just searching Dark family manors surely. 

The only other place he knew the wizard might be at was Riddle Manor, but something told him to try here. He was going to follow that feeling and, if it didn’t prove right, if Voldemort did not show up tonight, then Harry could try Riddle Manor next. 

“Yous only needs to call Dobby and Dobby will be right back if you needs him!” He squeaked out, clutching his hands together nervously. The elf was rightfully unsure of Harry’s plan. Well, what Harry had told him his plan was. Dobby never would have brought Harry here if he actually knew. The elf would have more likely taken him to Saint Mungo’s. He hadn’t lied to the elf, but he hadn’t told him what he was really planning, other than it was all to save his life. 

In the end, that was all Dobby needed to hear.

“Thank you, Dobby.” He forced a smile and the elf popped away with a bow, leaving him alone in the room. 

Harry stood still, trying to calm his racing heart. Months of planning and he still felt unprepared. How Dobby knew this room was the dark wizard’s, he’d no idea, as it looked to be entirely normal. It did not look like something that would belong to a Dark Lord. It was rich, of course, everything in it was probably more expensive than Harry cared to know, but it didn’t feel dark. There were no personal possessions laid about to give any clue to the room’s occupant. Even if there were, Harry wasn’t sure he’d be able to tell that they belonged to Voldemort anyway. What kind of possessions did the dark lord have? Other than books on dark magic? Maybe snake skin could have been a good clue if there had been any. Either way, without the house elf, Harry would never have guessed that this was the right room. 

It was still early, but Harry forced himself into motion dropping to place his warded stones where they needed to be out of sight under the bed. Voldemort could return at any moment, even if it was more likely that he wouldn’t be back until night. Hermione would be aghast to know what her old Ancient Runes project was being used for, but Harry had been unable to come up with anything better. If he’d tried to replicate them he knew they wouldn’t have worked as well, or if at all, and he needed to be able to immobilize Voldemort for as long as he could. Even modifying the stones, as he had to increase their strength, had been difficult for him to do. He really should have given more care to selecting his electives. 

The stones were far from the perfect solution, still, the other options he came up with could not even compare. Either they were magic well outside his abilities, or too simple to actually work. The likelihood of him being able to get a stunner in, even if it was a surprise, was not something he could count on. 

And then there was the question of, could a stunned wizard even get it up?, that was reasonably(but unfortunately) not in any textbook.

With the stones placed as best as he could out of sight under the large bed, Harry picked out a spot in the room to wait. He pulled the invisibility cloak to cover him completely. 

A shaky breath forced its way out and he reminded himself that this was what was best for him. His best chance at being able to live. The other path set for him, anyone could see that it would end in his death. Well, anyone that cared to think about it.

He was a sixteen year old wizard. How could they think he’d be able to defeat a wizard decades older than him and as powerful as Dumbledore? If the entire wizarding world was scared to stand up to the powerful dark wizard, (hell they didn’t even want to acknowledge he was back ) why should they hide behind an unskilled sixteen year old?

As he waited, he fiddled with the vials in his pocket, anxious to use them, yet dreading it all the same.

-

For the record, Harry knew the stress had made him crazy.

The stress had finally gotten to him apparently. It had to have, because his idea, his plan, was crazy. Honestly batshit. No, he would probably be crazy for just thinking it alone. Going through with it was probably another step up from crazy.  

But, if he could realize himself that he was crazy, maybe he wasn’t as bad off as he thought. Right? If he was, who could blame him? Well, everybody, actually. The wizarding world loved to constantly change their mind about him. 

Really, though, it shouldn’t be any surprise that the stress of being who he was got to him. He’d been under stress for as long as he’d known he was a wizard. Even before then with the Dursleys of course, but living in the magical world was a different kind of stress. Voldemort had been after him for most of that time and showed up at some point for almost every single one of his school years. 

Those years had been bad enough, having to save himself most of the time from the crazed dark wizard. 

The headmaster had known about this prophecy since before Harry had even been born. Harry had just thought he’d been unlucky when he always seemed to encounter Voldemort on his own, or that the wizard held a grudge for the vanquishing. (Which, okay , but Harry sure didn’t plan on being almost murdered as a baby thanks!)  But the thought that he had been targeted all those years ago had never occurred to him, and thus the previous encounters took on a different light. 

Dumbledore couldn’t have really prevented some of Harry’s encounters with Voldemort, but Harry couldn’t help but feel like the old wizard could have done more to protect him. With the prophecy, the headmaster probably didn’t want to protect him more. 

He wanted the prophecy to play out. Because if the prophecy was true, then Harry was the only one that would be able to defeat the dark wizard.

He had always thought he’d fight the dark wizard anyway. He’d wanted to join the Order of the Phoenix so bad last year, but now…?

It was too much. Yes, he wanted to fight, but knowing he was the only one that could really do anything? That was too much pressure. Before, he’d thought that he’d be with the rest of the Order. Dumbledore wouldn’t have shared the prophecy with anyone else, but the rest of the Order probably believed that Harry was going to be the one to fight Voldemort anyway from the way Dumbledore treated Harry.

Then, when Dumbledore informed him that he would be learning from him, he’d been so relieved. Dumbledore was the oldest and most powerful wizard he knew, surely he’d be able to train Harry to stand a chance. The duel he’d witnessed in the ministry was a testament to the Headmaster’s skill and knowledge. 

Unfortunately , that wasn’t what Dumbledore was doing at all. There were no spells, no great magic that would solve Harry’s problems. There were only memories. 

Memories centered around the life of Tom Riddle. 

It made the pressure on him even worse . 

Whatever Dumbledore was trying to do by showing him all these memories, Harry had no idea, but whatever it was wasn’t working. The young Riddle, he’d known from his experience with the Diary, was frighteningly brilliant. He’d only had a small glimpse of that before the diary had been destroyed. Now, he could see it clearer.

Harry didn’t stand a chance against him, especially not now that Tom Riddle had years- no, decades more knowledge than him. Shite , even a first-year Tom Riddle probably had more magical talent than a sixth-year Harry. From what Dumbledore had shown, even before Hogwarts, Tom was able to do wandless magic at the orphanage.

Sure, Harry was lucky and had managed to escape the graveyard, but using the portkey wasn’t even his idea. Without the help of the ghosts of his parents and Cedric, he would have died that day. Even at the ministry he hadn’t been alone. Dumbledore had shown up not long after Voldemort had to protect him. The battle that followed had been a real awakening as to just how unskilled Harry was in comparison to these older wizards.

And now Dumbledore wasn’t even teaching Harry anything useful. It was as if he knew, too, that Harry didn’t stand a chance. Merlin, Harry wanted out of this situation. With the way his life was going, he’d be dead as soon as he graduated, if not before. 

So, yeah, Harry was a little stressed.

And that stress manifested the crazy idea one day during one of the headmaster’s so-called lessons.

“So... Voldemort’s father left while his mother was still pregnant?” Harry asked, not sure what to focus on from Dumbledore’s memory of the orphanage Matron talking about Tom’s mother. If Dumbledore was disappointed in what Harry had chosen to ask, it didn’t show.

“Yes, it’s likely that she stopped giving him the Amortentia during that time. She might have thought that her Husband would love her without it after so long, or she may have thought that he would still feel a connection to their unborn son, even if he was a muggle. Neither were true, as you know from how it turned out, my boy, and Tom Riddle Senior returned to his parents.”

“Connection? What do you mean by that?” Something in the way the headmaster said that made Harry think there was more to that than just a father caring about his child out of obligation. Even if he was a muggle… what did that have to do with this?

“Ah, forgive me, sometimes I forget what is not common knowledge for those not raised in the wizarding world.” The old wizard smiled gently and Harry fought back his annoyance at the fact that Dumbledore was the one who insisted Harry stay with the Dursleys. “You see, for magicals, there is a bit more to the wonder that is a pregnancy. A person’s magic wants to protect us and sees children as extensions of ourselves, so that protection extends to them. That forms a bond that aids a magical parent in knowing if something is wrong with their child. The bond lessens as the child grows into their own magic, but never completely leaves.”

Except with death , Harry thought morosely. As far as he was aware, he felt no lingering feeling of this bond Dumbledore spoke of with his parents, not even when he was younger. His mum, did she even have much of a choice? Or had the bond her magic had with him been the reason she protected him so fiercely?

No, she loved him. That was why. He couldn’t think anything else.

“It is sad to think, but Merope was fortunate in that her husband only left and did not react worse.” Dumbledore mused aloud, pulling Harry from thoughts of his own parents, “He had no magic, no bond with their babe that would have prevented him from hurting her should his reaction to coming out of a love potion been violent. Merope, her magic was weak to begin with and would not have been able to protect her should that have happened.”

“So if Riddle Senior had been a wizard he wouldn’t have been able to hurt Merope while she was pregnant? Because his own magic wouldn’t have let him no matter how much he hated her?” Harry asked amazed. That… that was interesting to think about. 

“Indeed, his magic would protect the child, and her, even from himself.” Dumbledore confirmed, “ Ah , but we’ve seemed to get off topic! Let’s not think anymore on what-if’s, for I don’t wish to keep you too late. Now, from the way the Matron Mrs Cole described Tom’s early childhood…”

Dumbledore continued on with what he wanted Harry to think about and Harry did his best to follow along though his mind was elsewhere. When the ‘lesson’ finally ended and Dumbledore dismissed him with another reminder of how important it was that Harry get the memory from Slughorn, Harry left quickly. 

All Harry could think, all that he got from the discussion was that the only person that would be truly safe from Voldemort was someone pregnant with his child. 

That… that couldn’t be the solution to his problems.

Why did it feel like it might be?

-

The idea wouldn’t leave his head and he found himself sneaking away from his two friends to look into the connection that Dumbledore had talked about. Realistically, they wouldn’t have any idea what Harry was thinking based on the books, but Hermione was far too clever and Harry wasn’t going to risk her figuring anything out. It was still only just an odd interest, he wasn’t truly considering… Merlin, he couldn’t even put it into words, but right now it was the only glimmer of possible survival he had. He’d research this as best he could until he could prove to himself that it was as crazy as he knew it to be, and more importantly, that it was impossible. 

Research on the topic did not turn out that way, and instead only peaked his interest more. What Dumbledore had said was true. A witch or wizard’s own magic would protect their unborn child, even from themselves. The more powerful a witch or wizard, the stronger the connection. There was no denying that Voldemort was powerful. With that much magic… the safest person from him would be someone carrying his child. 

It was all still theory , however. Well, while the fact that carrying Voldemort’s child would make him safe from the wizard was true, it wasn't as simple as just doing that and Harry would prove to himself it could not be done. 

First and foremost, he was shite at potions. And he’d need potions, multiple. 

Because, it was possible for males to bear children in the wizarding world, (a fact that Ron offhandedly mentioned once after reading a letter from his Mum about an old school friend’s son, to both Harry and Hermionie’s shock) but it did not happen naturally. 

Males were obviously missing some vital parts. The potions were able to fix that and grow those needed organs. It was a difficult, though thankfully not dangerous, series of potions to brew. Hermione would have been able to brew them perfectly the first time, but asking for her help was completely out of the question. Not only would she not approve, and strongly, but she would go to the Headmaster. 

So he gave the brews a shot, himself. In secret. 

To know that it couldn’t be done, of course. He had to prove to himself it wasn’t an option. 

He waited the days, then weeks it took for the potions to simmer, then age watching for them to turn or spark or foam over in obvious failure. Only then could he get the idea out of his head, he knew. He’d move on, go to Dumbledore’s memory-lessons about the boy that becomes a dark lord and wait for the day that same boy came after him again. 

Except, after the full month of the final potions brewing he was staring down into the shimmering and steaming perfectly brewed potion. The others already in vials, also matching the descriptions the books described. 

Their perfection staring him in the face brought him to another decision. (Or had he already made it in just trying as he had?)

No, surely he had had some sanity before this. He was trying to assure himself the idea was not possible.

Because, if it was as un-feasible as it was absurd, he’d move past it. 

But, it’s not. It was entirely possible.

Hidden amongst the discarded items in one long forgotten section of the Room of Requirement where he’d hidden his brewing from his friends, Harry sat down heavily and contemplated his life again.

The idea was crazy. He knew that. Came to terms with that. 

He knew he was crazy for even thinking about it, but what else was he to do ? 

He didn’t want to run from the dark wizard forever! Because that was what his only other option would be if he wanted to live, right? He could try and learn more powerful magic, but even Dumbledore knew that was hopeless. He wouldn’t say that, but his actions said enough. Dumbledore wasn’t going to show him how to defend himself, because it would be a waste of time.

Maybe that was the point of the memories. Dumbledore was trying to ease him into realizing that Harry would not be able to defeat the more talented Tom Riddle.

No, it was his only chance at survival. There was no other future but death if he didn’t do this to save himself. 

He’d do this no matter how much it terrified and disgusted him, he resolved. 

The only problem would be convincing the dark lord to impregnate him, but Harry didn’t plan on asking.

-

Far sooner than expected, the door to the room opened.

From under his invisibility cloak, Harry watched as Lord Voldemort entered the room. Nagini, luckily, nowhere in sight. He felt his scar pulse at the close proximity. His breath caught as Voldemort paused a step into the room. The door shut behind him, but the wizard didn’t move any further for a long moment. Nothing showed on the serpentine face, but Harry’s heart raced.

Does he know? Has our connection given me away? Harry trembled and tried his best to keep his breathing even. The wizard could not see him, but he could hear him if he descended into panic. This was his only chance. Dobby had been a backup if the other wizard had not shown up, but he wouldn’t bring Dobby in to get him if Voldemort found him. He wouldn’t bring the elf down with him. Keep it together! This has to work.

Voldemort glanced around the room, and like Harry knew it would, his red gaze never stopped on him. Knowing he was invisible or not, it was still a relief regardless. 

The wizard called out a soft, “Tally”, and a house elf appeared. The poor creature kept her head bowed, not even braving a glance at the man.

“Tell Lucius not to disturb me for any reason. ” The man ordered in his low hiss and the elf was gone again just as quickly.

He approached the bed, letting out an oddly human yawn. Was he planning on taking a nap? Harry never imagined the man to take naps, but despite his appearance, he supposed he was still human... and old. 

Harry nearly flinched when the other wizard drew his wand. He waved it about wordlessly. Nothing appeared to have happened, but the wizard did not appear fazed. 

Privacy wards, maybe? Yes, that made sense.

Green eyes watched, riveted as the monster shed an outer robe and lay down on top of the covers like it was normal. Maybe it was. Was Voldemort the kind of person to sleep without blankets? Harry couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to, he felt safest bundled up in the thickest and heaviest blanket he could-- but that wasn’t important right now.

“Ah.” He heard the wizard breathe, then, in a lower tone, “ What is this?”

The stones worked. 

Voldemort was unable to move. Oh Merlin, it was happening. Harry took a deep breath that did nothing to settle his nerves, and slowly approached the bed. He lowered the cloak as he looked to see the man’s reaction. Voldemort’s angry ruby eyes bored into his own.

“Harry, how unexpected. ” He hissed, still looking as menacing even in his paralyzed state. “It is not very Gryffindor of you to want to face your enemy in this way. Do you think to try to kill Lord Voldemort like this?”

It was true. Harry had contemplated that, too, during the formation of this plan. If he trapped Voldemort like this, couldn’t he just end the dark wizard now? 

Unfortunately, no. 

He’d come to the conclusion that he couldn’t. He knew without trying that he would be incapable of performing the Killing Curse, just as he failed to cruicio Bellatrix despite the fury he felt towards her.

“I’m not here to kill you.” Harry dropped the cloak entirely and pulled out one of his potion vials. He’d already taken the one to grow his womb ahead of time, and that had sure been an uncomfortable night he’d waved off to his friends about something he ate not agreeing with him.

“Then what is your goal? Do you intend to force potions on Lord Voldemort?”

Instead of answering, Harry tipped back the vial and downed it in one go. It would temporarily boost his fertility, and therefore his chances of this working the first time. Making it the only time, please let this be the only time. 

It had the added bonus of indicating if a successful fertilization of one of his eggs occurred. The added difficulty in brewing this particular fertility potion was worth it for this bonus. Muggle tests needed a couple weeks before knowing if someone was pregnant, but magic could detect these things easily.

The monster watched, quiety assessing, as Harry climbed less than gracefully onto the bed. He hesitated, hands hovering over the monster’s clothed groin as a stray fear popped into his head, How monstrous was Voldemort? He had just thought how odd it was to see the monster act so human with a yawn, why had he not considered other things the resurrection could have changed? 

Did he even still have a dick?

Holy shit, this whole thing would be ruined if the Dark Lord was incapable of reproducing! He’d have to high tail it out of the manor if this was the case and pray Voldemort didn’t mention the fact that Harry had tried to look at his junk when he inevitably came to kill him.

Harry would deny the hell out of it if he did. Take that shit to his grave and then past that because you can bet when he met his parents on the other side they’d never learn how depraved he’d become in his desperation to live. 

If it turned out that way. He still had to look.

He pulled what little remained of his Gryffindor bravery around him and parted the monster’s robes. 

Shit. Harry thought, eyes wide in horror.

Voldemort was bigger than him. 

At least it was still human and there, if not a lot paler than any human should be . He needed that bit to be there, but damn was it depressing to see the monster’s… monster. 

Harry parted his own outer robe to reveal his lack of any other clothing underneath. The less clothes to hesitate on the better, his past self had rightly figured. 

Pressing the tip of his wand into his lower belly gently, he incanted the spells to clean himself out, as well as stretch and slick. The emptiness felt as weird as it had the first and only other time he’d used these spells to practice. That had been all he’d done though. Now, looking at the hardening cock in front of him he wondered if he should have. 

Wait… hardening?

Harry tore his eyes away from where he’d been staring at Voldemort’s manhood to meet his gaze. He thought he’d have to really, really work to get the old guy up. The guy was old after all. That and the fact that they were mortal enemies and Harry thought he’d have his work cut out for him to get to the meat of the plan. 

Voldemort gazed back, face blank in stark contrast to the twitching interest of his dick. “Harry, I must say this looks suspicious.” 

The savior of the wizarding world ignored him, hoping he'd shut up, as he stashed his wand back in the pocket of his robes still draped on his shoulders, and straddled the dark lord’s hips. He couldn’t waste time hesitating, he reminded himself. The stones would lose power gradually, and with how strong Voldemort was Harry had no sure timeframe how long they would last.

He reached behind himself to coat his hand with excess slick dripping from his opening. He slathered it on the dick underneath him and it twitched and pulsed, well on it’s way to full hardness.

He hoped, at least. It was big enough as it was, the bloody prick. 

“Harry.” The monster hissed, “Do you intend to ride Lord Voldemort’s cock?”

Shouldn’t that be obvious?! Harry thought, hysterically looking up at the Dark Lord incredulously, I’m dripping wet above your dick!

“I see, indeed, your wanton display.” The Dark Lord breathed, reading his thoughts, “However Lord Voldemort never imagined his prophesied vanquisher would crave to be bedded by his opposite.”

Harry jerked his gaze away from the slitted eyes in panic. He can’t know the whole thing, I have to protect my mind until this is done! No more hesitating.

Poising himself above the proudly jutting member, he leaned with one hand on the monster’s pale lightly scaled chest for balance and held the cock steady with the other as he lowered himself slowly but surely down to it. He felt the tip prod at his opening and he let out a deep breath and sunk down on it.

The feeling of the bulbous head breaching his ring of muscles punched the breath out of him for a moment. The hand steadying the member joined the other on Voldemort’s chest and he breathed deeply.

No going back. It’s in me. Voldemort’s fucking cock is in me.

He widened his legs trying to alleviate some of the pressure and slipped down a little more. 

Hnnnn. 

“Is it how you imagined, Harry ?”

Ignore him, ignore him, ignore him. Harry chanted mentally, probably trying to get you to stop!

He rocked up and down, slowly taking more and more. Voldemort, though Harry could feel his gaze and feel his interest , blessedly said nothing more as he welcomed the monster further and further into his body. He fell into a steady rhythm, sinking, then the slick pull as he lifted slightly, then sinking further on the next...

“ Ahhhh.” Harry moaned, suddenly, shocking himself. 

He paused in his movements, seated fully on the monster. Distantly, he was amazed to realize he could feel the man’s hairless groin pressed up against his bum. What took up more presence in his mind however, was the fact that something had felt so good for a moment when he was finally fully seated, and that he was shuddering still from having that spot being pressed inside him.

“Are you enjoying Lord Voldemort’s cock inside you?”

“No!” Harry denied, feeling his face heat ridiculously. He was not getting pleasure out of this. There was one goal and Harry was not the one that needed to be aroused, nor should he be! He had the Dark Lord’s dick in him!

“Such an obvious lie, Harry.” The monster hissed, getting raspy and darkly amused, “Lord Voldemort can feel how you tighten around him when he speaks and can see the proof of your pleasure glistening on your own.”

Harry darted wide eyes down at his traitorous cock, swelling and dripping. No, no, no. Excuse me, this is not the reaction you should be having, he mentally berated his own flesh.

The Dark Lord hissed out a laugh, at Harry’s thoughts or his body’s reaction, well he wasn’t sure. He was sure that he was going to avoid that spot inside him now, though. He had a plan he needed to see through! 

He cut off the amusement of the beast below him and started to move again, angling differently. He still shivered, feeling gooseflesh and his heart rate picking up, but he was able to avoid the tingling spot inside him every time he sunk back down on Voldemort.

The Dark Lord was breathier the next time he spoke in parseltounge, “ Faster, fuck yourself faster on my cock.”

Harry obliged, rocking harder even though his legs protested the strain and his pride wanted to not do as the monster asked. He’d lost his pride long ago into the formation of this plan  however, and if fucking himself on the wizard’s cock as he pleased got him to orgasm, then he had no reason to refuse.

“ Harryyyy…”

Please just come- Harry looked down to the man’s eyes again, and that seemed to have done it. The Dark Lord’s eyes squeezed shut and he let out a low grunt. Harry paused his movements, resting with his arse flush to the man’s groin, as he felt the warm release inside him. 

“Oh, Merlin…” He whispered, feeling the twitching inside him. 

He watched his belly intently as Voldemort brought his breathing back to normal. The fertility potion he’d picked wasn’t a sure thing, one like that didn’t exist, but it would let him know within minutes if conception had happened. If not… he’d have to try again, or get the hell out before the warding stones power waned.

With his nerves it was difficult to tell if seconds or hours passed as he waited and he was ready to move in some way... when the light that signified success emanated from his lower belly.

Success.

Merlin, it worked. He was- 

He reached a shaking hand into his robe pocket for the last of his potions. The potion that would guarantee his safety from Voldemort forever. It was the only potion that had required some darker ingredients, and the one that made him hesitate the most. 

Not just because of the ingredients, but because of its purpose. 

Because it was a curse of sorts. While it would not harm the babe in any normal way, (and it couldn’t because Harry’s own magic would stop him if it did) it would essentially freeze it. The babe inside of him would never grow or change from what it was now, hardly a clump of cells. 

While he would remain pregnant indefinitely, he would never show. It was as close to perfect as it could get. He would have his protection from Voldemort, not just for nine months, but for as long as he lived. The only fault was the guilt he already felt over doing this to his own child. But, as he looked up from the vial to Voldemort’s blood red gaze set in serpentine features, he knew it was still for the best. If the other parent was this monster, weren’t they better off?

Before he could talk himself out of the last step of his plan, he uncorked the vial and tilted it into his mouth to down it in one go. 

Except, the potion didn’t come out. Alarmed, Harry held the potion up to his gaze. It was still liquid, the potion was still alright, but it wasn’t passing the lip of the vial. “What?” 

He didn’t have time to figure out why it was stuck as Voldemort surged into motion. The dark wizard flipped him over, the motion reminding Harry that the other wizard was very much still inside him . 

Harry grunted from the jarring movement and he heard the sound of breaking glass somewhere off to the side, he’d lost his grip on the vial in the shuffle. However, the loss of the potion wasn’t enough to draw his attention away from the look on the Dark Lord’s face as he caged him in with his taller body. 

The wizard’s red eyes gleamed, looking victorious.

He shouldn’t have been able to move yet, at least, not all at once. The power of the stones was supposed to wear off gradually.

“H-how?” Harry managed to stutter out.

The grin on the face above him grew at the question, “Your simple magic was never enough to hold the likes of a wizard of Lord Voldemort’s power, Harry.”

Harry blanched, he could have moved the entire time? “You… but- why?”

“Curiosity.” The monster told him, “I felt your presence the second you entered this manor. I thought you had shown up to try and end me, but your idea was so much different, was it not? How unexpected that you went through with it.” Unexpected, but with the way he leered down at Harry like he wanted to run spindly fingers through his dark hair, apparently not unwelcome.

He… he let Harry do all that because he was curious? Why stop him now, not before he was- before he had- !

Oh , Harry tried to calm down. He was safe, Voldemort couldn’t hurt him. Even his grip on his wrists, while tight, was not harmful. He was safe. Maybe not forever, but he would figure something out in nine months, right? The plan has partially worked, I have nine months of safety.

Voldemort picked his racing thoughts right out of his head, responding as he pleased, “If the thought of an empty womb worries you, your Lord will be sure to keep it busy.” A pale hand let go of one wrist to press lightly over the bare skin of Harry’s belly. His eyes widened at the suggestion and he gazed down at the bone-white hand on his pale skin in horror.

What.

Keep it busy? Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

That was- oh, Merlin.

He hadn’t had time to process yet that he would have to go through one pregnancy, and he was already suggesting more.  

The hand drifted lower to ghost over Harry’s half- hard cock momentarily and he tried to jerk away. The Dark Lord moved the hand back to his wrist, lowered more of his weight onto him, pressing impossibly further into him in the process and let out a dark chuckle as he hit the spot Harry had so desperately avoided.

“Why, Harry , don’t you think you deserve a reward ?” He grinned down at him, “After all, you’re carrying the dark heir.”

“No- uhhh.” Harry moaned as the Dark Lord pulled back and thrusted right back in. “Wait- I don’t-”

“Don’t want this?” He laughed lowly, repeating his motion into Harry, “No need to pretend otherwise after you were just bouncing on my cock.”

Harry whimpered and twisted his head away from looking at the other.

“How noble of you to have focused on your Lord’s pleasure first, but now you needn't hold back. Focus on how good being under Lord Voldemort makes you feel.” He angled his thrusts to graze his prostate even more and Harry’s legs quivered. He wanted to push the man above him away, but they had no leverage with the man pressed between them and the strength had been sapped from them already. With every thrust, he fought his own body's desire to wrap them around the thin waist and pull him deeper.

His dick was so hard it hurt, and he wanted to wrap his own hand around it and just end-

“Ah, ah, you have received such pleasure already taking your Lord’s cock, Harry. You surely can come just like this.” Voldemort gave a slow meaningful thrust.

No, no, not like that, Harry thought desperately, unable to verbalise more than moans and grunts. 

“You look so magnificent like this,” The Dark Wizard continued, ignoring Harry’s inner struggle, “Below Lord Voldemort, arching as he fucks you.”

He leaned closer, mouthing at his neck, unceasing in his claiming thrusts. 

He fought the increasing warmth curling in his gut to no avail. It was building with each rock of the snake’s cock against that spot inside him. 

“So wanton. So depraved.” Harry felt the ghost of his breath near his ear, “ Full of your Lord’s seed and child.”

Harry cried out as he arched and came. 

It went on, shuddering through him. Pleasure flowing through his limbs to his extremities as his cock spurted onto himself and the man above him. All the while Voldemort’s sick praise continued along with quicker thrusts as he neared his own release a second time, “ Beautiful. So pretty taking a cock.”

Harry whimpered as the second load of the dark lord’s cum was fucked into him and the man stilled at last pressing him down into the bedding. 

As the orgasmic haze faded, the horror of the situation came seeping back in. He had succeeded in only getting knocked up, nothing else. He had nine months, and with that deadline his fate was unsure again. Not to mention what would happen in the next nine months. He had been worried before, sure. His main hope was to get out before the stones had worn off if that was possible, and if not, well he was at least as safe as he could be. 

His state would afford him at least some level of comfort should Voldemort have kept him captive after. But this time limit now…

“Did you think that Lord Voldemort would hide you away?” The amused hiss drew him from his worried thoughts. 

Voldemort shifted up off of Harry, slipping out at last. He felt something seep out down below, but resolutely shoved any thoughts of acknowledging what that was to the darkest corner of his mind, to respond to the serpentine face peering down at him, “You’re not going to?” 

He’d imagined, quite vividly, that when Voldemort killed him that he’d show off whatever was left of Harry in a sick show. But, an alive Harry? No, he’d thought if anything he’d be hidden shamefully away and out of sight. 

“I do not. I have conquered you in another way, perhaps not the way anyone would expect, but conquered nonetheless. To have you on my arm, at my side, knowingly warming my bed… will be a clear sign of our victory.”

He knew he’d handed the war over the second he started really considering this plan. It still didn’t stop the guilt from rising in his chest at hearing it said out loud to him. 

He felt the bed shift, and watched silently as the other wizard got up, wandlessly cleaning himself and bringing his robes back to order. 

“Where are you going?”

“Where are we going, you mean. Although the sight of you spread out and used like this is so enticing, you will need to make yourself presentable.” A cruel grin split across his face, “Dinner will be served soon, and Lord Voldemort would like to share some wonderful news. After all, it is customary to send word of an heir approaching to those closest.”

The grin turned mischievous. Harry’s stomach dropped in anticipation for whatever the monster was clearly thinking of so joyously.

“ Speaking of sending word to those closest,” The dark lord breathed as Harry paled thinking quickly on who Voldemort was imagining of Harry’s friends, “Might you want to assist in penning a letter to your esteemed Headmaster? Or may Lord Voldemort have that pleasure all to himself?” 

He should have given Hermione the chance to talk him out of this.

Chapter Text

“Done.” Harry muttered, slapping the parchment down on the small side table. 

He’d denied any help with the letters he was to send to his friends and other close people. The Dark Lord had not been joking on that matter, not that Harry really thought he was the kind to joke. He kept his letters short and to the point, he thought they’d all appreciate that. Maybe. There was also the fact that Voldemort was not giving him much time, hardly any, to write them out. 

The Dark Lord had called back the elf Harry had seen briefly before, to have Lucius arrange an intimate dinner for his closest followers, because he had fortuitous news . 

Undoubtedly, the dark wizard could show up to his own dinner whenever he pleased. Early or late. However, Harry could feel the, god forbid, downright giddy excitement the man was feeling and knew they would be leaving as quickly as possible. 

And that in and of itself was weird. 

The only emotions he’d ever felt from the snake-like man had been rage. Maybe it was the close proximity, but he could clearly feel the dark amusement nearly rolling off the other in waves, despite the face never showing any of it. 

He had no time to dwell on why it was happening, or what it could mean going forward, as, with the letters done, he still needed to get ready. And by that, he meant shower. There were bodily fluids that, even though Voldemort had spelled them away, he still felt on his skin and in him. 

He scurried his way over to the open door of the bathroom where the elf had left him a set of robes he was no doubt going to hate. 

He stepped in, ready to shut the door behind him when he caught sight of Voldemort holding his letters. He knew the other would read them, had no way of sending them off without him nor stopping him from reading them, but the sight of them in his hands gave him pause. 

Would this push the feeling of rage back into him?

The serpentine face looked up at last at him, impassive and tone flat, “Harry, the expected arrival of an heir is a momentous occasion in the magical world.” 

Harry hesitated, rocking on his heels. “Yeah.” 

“There are only two sentences in these letters.”

“Mhmm.”

Voldemort paused, tilting his head as he stared at Harry for a long moment, “They begin with the phrase, ‘ I regret to inform you’. ” 

“I mean… You can start yours however you like, but for my side I thought it would soften the blow.”

Voldemort stared at him, slitted nostrils flaring ever so slightly. 

“Lord Voldemort will re-write them.”

Harry squawked out a protest, but the Dark Lord had already turned his attention down to the letters in one hand while the other dismissively waved in Harry’s direction, magically shutting the bathroom door. No doubt his revisions would be a more detailed and pompous account of what happened and the result. Harry’s had been quite brief and to the point. 

No beating around the bush. 

Simple, without detail. 

Dear [Insert name here], 

I regret to inform you, I am pregnant. Voldemort is the Father. 

Harry

--

Severus stalked down the corridor, pace brisk while fighting the urge to clamp his hand over his throbbing mark. The Dark Lord had just called him to him, unusual for this time of day. Dinner would be served very soon in the Great Hall and he hoped to catch Albus before he could join the crowds there.

The Dark Lord normally kept his summons to times that would not conflict with his position as a professor, so as to keep up the ruse he wasn’t an obvious spy. The fact that he was calling him now?  Concerning. If he could catch Albus, to give word in case anything happened, that was preferred. 

The potions master turned the last corner, robes billowing and first years scattering and spotted Albus descending the staircase having a quiet conversation with Minerva. Luckily, Albus picked up without much hint that a word was needed and let his companion walk on ahead into the Great Hall. 

“Important errand, my boy?” He asked, slight worry creeping into his voice the only acknowledgement that he knew exactly where Severus would be going. 

“Afraid so, it appears I will be missing dinner. Any causes to this you know of?” He pried, hoping but doubting Albus had any clue as to what the summons was about. 

“None at all.” He paused at the doors, looking across the sea of school children. “Ah, looks like there is a chance I might find out soon, however.”

Severus followed his gaze to the high table, where a vicious-looking bird was perched on the Headmaster’s chair. Even from a distance, a scroll was visible tied to it’s leg.

“Do you have time to find out?” Albus asked.

“No, I’ve hesitated too long as it is.”

Severus really wanted some insight into what he was heading into, but if he dawdled any longer than he already had, he would be better off not showing up ever again.

-

Severus arrived at the apparition point at Malfoy Manor amongst other Inner Circle members. Their presence soothed and worried him in equal turn.

He was not being singled out for something, at least not likely. But what news would the Dark Lord have that he would call all of his closest to him like this?

Once seated, he kept silent. It was best to observe.

The Dark Lord had not arrived at the dining hall yet. Not unusual. The dark wizard sometimes liked to arrive last, making the rest of them sweat. Other times, he would make them sweat just by sitting silently, and sometimes unblinkingly at the head of the table as they all nervously filed in. 

Eventually, he felt, like the rest of the gathered Death Eaters, the arrival of their Lord. The dark wizard’s magic saturated the air, announcing his presence before the potions master could even see him. Annoyingly, the Dark Lord had chosen to enter the dining room from a door behind Severus’ side of the table.

Still, across the table, he noted his peer’s eyes widening and Bellatrix tilting her head back to cackle. Whoever or whatever the Dark Lord brought with him, was either soon to be dead, or soon to be used on someone gathered here. 

Severus kept his body facing forward, he would not turn and gawk like his own students would, or like Pettigrew was currently doing a few seats to his left. 

“My Lord, you’ve done it!” Bellatrix seemed to have finally reeled in her demented mirth to exclaim. She looked about ready to spring from her seat. 

Her obvious excitement never meant anything good. Severus reluctantly allowed his gaze to fall on the Dark Lord and whoever the unfortunate soul was as they reached the head of the table. 

It’d been years since the dour man felt his stomach drop so fast and so violently. He immediately understood and echoed the shocked looks he’d just seen. 

“Indeed, Bella. I have done it.” Lord Voldemort said, “However, I do not believe you can possibly guess as to the full extent of the news you all have been summoned for.”

The serpentine wizard’s face was twisted into a parody of a smile, as he clutched onto the boy-who-lived with his left arm. It was the oddest hold the potions master had ever seen the dark wizard do, since the pale fingers were wrapped around the boy’s waist and not his neck.

Potter, for his part, was silent. Green eyes darted everywhere but at any of the Death Eaters and his face was gaining color by the second. Had the Dark Lord already cursed him? The dark haired man struggled to keep his heart rate down, not seeing any way out of this situation with Potter. He despised the boy’s uncanny luck for getting out of trouble in school, but it would be an actual life saver right now if it decided to grace him. 

That was even if  it should happen. If Albus was right and Potter was a horcrux… well, would Albus want Severus to blow his cover now if it came to it in order to save the boy? 

“Oh, My Lord , your servant is eager to hear.” The insane witch replied, leaning excitedly in his direction. 

Voldemort wandlessly pulled the chair directly to his left out and Potter slouched down into it, eyes now glued to his hands in his lap. Severus watched trying to spot any other changes in his demeanor, hoping to determine what curse, if any, the boy had been subjected to. Potter was usually brash and loud, this quiet boy was so unusual. 

At the same time, there were muffled sounds of shock, then the brush of something large against his legs under the table. 

Nagini had arrived. 

The Dark Lord took his seat at his opulent throne at the head of the table, looking entirely too pleased for himself. The large snake popped her head up from under the table next to her master. There was a quiet hissed conversation that put every Death Eater on edge, except for Bellatrix. 

The Dark Lord reached to caress his familiar’s scaled head and hissed again, only for Nagini to jerk her head to stare at Potter so fast Severus briefly wondered if a snake could get whiplash. Then, immediately wondering if he was about to see Potter be eaten, and if he could actually sit and do nothing. 

“My friends, I am sure you are all curious as to your summons this evening.” The monster said, with an air of a hiss despite speaking once again in English. 

Severus wasn’t sure what to watch, the Dark Lord or the boy next to him who was slowly being wrapped up threateningly by the over-large snake. He settled for darting his eyes back and forth, wand arm twitching, as the snake’s head pressed into the boy’s middle. 

“This truly is a momentous occasion, and I am pleased to share this with all of you. I am sure you are all familiar with our guest of honor, Harry.” He gestured unnecessarily to his left. 

There was laughter around the table, some cruel, some uncomfortable. The boy in question impossibly turned an even darker shade of red, likely from the slow strangulation. 

Severus knew then that he would not be able to watch. He didn’t know how he would do this, but he would not watch Lily’s son go down like this no matter how he hated the brat. 

“This is a turning point for our movement. Without knowing it, the Light side is now without their precious saviour and Lord Voldemort has the upper hand.”

He paused to let it sink in, some members ducking their heads in reverence and uttering congratulations. 

Somewhat hesitantly, “My Lord,” Lucius Malfoy began, “Might I suggest a toast in your honor? This is truly wonderful news.” 

Such blatant buttering up should be beneath the blonde, but he had been desperately vying to be in good standing once again. 

“A toast.” He seemed to think it over, head tilting, “Yes, that is a fine idea.”

Around the table, everyone’s glasses were filled. Elf magic quickly fulfilling the unspoken order. 

“Ah, ah, you know you cannot, I am afraid.” The monster said when Harry managed to sneak an arm past the snake wrapped around him to reach for his own glass. Pale fingers pried the glass from the boy’s grasp. 

Odd time to care about the legal drinking age , the greasy-haired man swore he heard someone mutter. 

Maybe when the Dark Lord makes his toast? Severus planned, That might be the only moment of distraction I get.

“To your conquering of your enemies, My Lord?” Bellatrix supplied, raising her glass in question, and cutting off a visibly irked Lucius from saying his own toast.

“That does sound pleasing,” He said, swirling the glass he stole from Harry, “Though there is another bit of news I would like to share that might be more appropriate for a toast.”

His expected victory over the boy of prophecy should be the best news the Dark Lord could have. He’d been going on and on about the boy for so long, that there was something else that the Dark Lord would want to toast to when said boy was right there felt odd. If offending the Dark Lord was not a death sentence, there would be confused murmurs going around the table. 

“You see, Bella, I took into consideration some of your advice.”

She seemed taken aback at this, though still obviously excited and pleased, “Mine? Which bit of advice was this?”

“The importance of having an heir. Especially for the Slytherin bloodline.”

Bellatrix’s cheeks darkened and Severus shuddered at the implications. He wasn’t sure if he should be glad that the conversation had taken such a turn or not. On one hand, he wasn’t murdering Potter in front of him with the help of his snake. On the other, Voldemort implying he was about to sleep with Bellatrix to reproduce…  

Yep, that was bile he tasted at the back of his throat.

If he made it out of here tonight, he was going to erase this night’s memory with the help of Firewhiskey. 

“Yes?” The Dark Witch practically drooled.

“Of course, you are right in that a Lord of my status would benefit from-”

“Oh, just spit it out, for fucks sake!” Potter exclaimed, to everyone’s shock. “Merlin, and I’m right here! Do you have to flirt?”

“How dare you?” Bellatrix seemed to recover first, rising from her seat with wand in hand. Her curls puffing up as her magic sparked around her like static. 

Idiot child, Severus cursed the boy mentally. The Dark Lord might let his insane witch have a bit of fun with the boy before his murder for that display. 

Bellatrix’s wild energy deflated just as quickly when the Dark Lord laughed breathily, “Jealous, Harry? You know you need not be, but, as you wish.” He raised his own glass and everyone followed suit hesitantly, “Harry is pregnant with my child. To the continuation of Salazar’s bloodline!”

The fuck.

The coiled energy that Severus had built in himself slackened immediately. 

The entire table was so slack with the unexpected news that Voldemort downed his own drink alone. When ruby eyes narrowed with the lowering of his empty glass, there was a hurried chorus of “ To the continuation of Slytherin’s bloodline ” and several members choking on their drinks in their haste to not offend their Lord. 

“You raped the boy.” He heard Narcissa whisper, failing to keep the horror out of her voice. 

Next to her Lucius tried to amend his wife’s words, “My Lord if that is what-”

“No need to worry Lucius, I take no offense. I did not rape the boy to impregnate him, you could say it was the other way around.” 

Severus, and likely the entire table, darted wide eyes to the red-faced boy next to him who had apparently lost his nerve after his outburst and was once again slouching down as if to disappear. 

Blushing.

Potter was blushing . 

Someone said, “What.”

“Harry approached me with the idea.” The Dark Lord said, calm as can be.

Surely he was lying, the potions master thought desperately. But, the embarrassed despair on Potter’s face told him otherwise. 

Across the table, he heard Bellatrix demand a bottle of Firewhiskey from an elf, her mind coming to the same conclusion as Severus’ had planned. Drink away the night asap.

“Oh god, fine. Yes, it was my idea. I came here to get pregnant, are you happy? Can we eat and, I don’t know, talk about something else?” Potter said, half hiding behind Nagini’s coils, “What do you usually talk about? Murder? I’d prefer that right now.” 

Voldemort gestured for the food to arrive, grinning indulgently at the Gryffindor, “Of course, Harry, and do fill your plate. You are eating for two.”

Chapter Text

While Ron and Harry were reckless enough to jump right into situations without a care for safety, Hermione was far more cautious. 

So when an unfamiliar owl descended upon them to drop a fancy looking envelope with an emerald colored snake seal that suspiciously was reminiscent of the Slytherin House crest… it was no surprise that Ron reached right for it. Being used to this sort of recklessness, Hermione smacked his hand before sweeping her wand over the letter with several detection charms.

One never could be too cautious.

“Ouch!” Ron yelped, clutching his hand to his chest, “What was that for?”

The redhead frowned at her from his seat across from her at the Gryffindor table. 

She didn’t spare him a glance, however, trying a few more spells she’d read up on, “You need to be more cautious, Ronald. We don’t know who might have sent this or why.”

“We’d know why if we read it. ” She heard him mutter and felt her eye twitch at his lack of care. He grumbled some more around a bite of his dinner. 

None of the spells turned up anything. 

The seal gave her pause, still, why would anyone write to either of them and use that kind of seal if their intentions were good? She trusted the magic, though. Her research on the detection spells was as in depth as the Hogwarts library could provide and even if she couldn’t tell what spells exactly were on a letter for obscure magic, the detection spell would still show that there was something.

Well, if there was. And there wasn’t. 

So, confident that the paper wouldn’t cause her skin to burn, or cause her any other terrible bodily harm, she plucked up the letter. It had some weight to it, not the weight like there was anything in it, but the weight of thick cardstock. Expensive. Fancy. 

Why?

“Oh so it’s fine if you open it?” The red head groused, but made no move to take it from her. 

She flipped it over.

It was addressed to them both. 

Another oddity. Who would write to her and Ron, but not Harry? She broke the seal and started reading.

It was from Voldemort.

It was from Voldemort and Harry.

For once, Hermione's brain screeched to a halt. The words made no damn sense. She read the letter again. 

“Well, what’s it say?” 

Unable to be annoyed at her friend’s impatience, she passed the letter over, dumbfounded. Ron wasted no time in looking at the contents. 

“It’s from You-know-who?” He whispered, thankfully, having skipped right down to the signature at the bottom, “Bloody hell what kind of…” Ron trailed off, eyes wide as he started from the beginning. 

The first half was in Harry’s writing and the most chilling part of it, in her opinion. It was said so simply.  

Hermione’s mind kick-started and suddenly so many things she had seen about Harry in the recent months made sense. He had distanced a bit and, while she didn’t see all the books he’d been trying to hide from them, she had seen a few. 

Now they all made sense. Ugh. He had sex with-

Ron’s boisterous laugh sounded out, turning more than just Hermione's head. 

“This is just brilliant.” He said, face split in a grin. “Fred and George really outdid themselves on this one, really had me for a second there. Bloody hell. ” He wiped a fake tear from his eye. “Wonder where Harry is, he’ll get a kick out of it, you think?”

“Ron.” She breathed, not wanting to correct him, but not wanting to let him get the wrong idea, “Ron, I don’t think this is a joke.”

Still smiling, Ron puffed out a disbelieving chuckle, “You can’t seriously think…”

“Albus!” 

Hermione focused on the head table where McGonagall was staring at the Headmaster in concern. She should have anticipated that he would have received something as well! Was he alright?

“He’s got a letter, too.” Ron muttered next to her, amusement no longer present in his voice. 

He did. One hand was over his face as it supported his head while he bowed over the table in front of him… the other was clutching a letter. Likely the same letter that they’d received. 

Had his been cursed?

A house elf popped into the space in front of the table. They levitated a platter with a bottle of-

“ Now is not the time for… for shots, for Merlin’s sake, Albus!”

—

Celebrate, the Dark Lord had said. 

That had been hours ago and the amassed Death Eaters that had heard that statement following the news their Lord shared were still all at Malfoy Manor. Some were still slouched around the table and others had moved to a sitting area. 

Regardless of where they were, they were all three sheets to the wind. 

“Should’a seen this coming, y’know.” A voice muttered, originating from under a table.

“Shite!” Another that Severus didn’t care to remember swayed to his feet to argue, yet faced the opposite direction of the voice, “How- how in the hell could an- hicc- any of us have seen- seen this ?”

“That time in the graveyard.”

Like that answered anything, Severus rolled his eyes and took another sip. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, wishing to just black out already.

Several other death eaters, however, gave sounds of understanding in various tones ranging from disgust to lustful whistles. 

“Tied him up, yeah.”

“So he’s got a thing for bondage?”

Ugh. Severus had heard of what had happened that night of the Dark Lord’s resurrection, but now there were new horrible images in his mind to beat into drunken blankness. 

“Kinky.” Someone fucking giggled. 

The room filled with drunken guffaws and shocked laughter at the idiotic comment. Severus regretted every choice he ever made in his entire life that led to now. 

When that all died down, Severus hoped that that would be the end of it for a while and they could all just fade into their respective drunken fog in peace. Unfortunately, that was not happening, as this was a group of morons.

“I jus’…” He heard Rodolphus start, “I jus’ didn’ think it’d be… mutual.”

Nearby him, slouched over a coffee table, face obscured by wild curls, was Bellatrix. The table was littered with empty bottles and wadded up balls of tissue paper. At Rodolphus’ musing’s the wild locks shifted slightly, likely processing the words.

She slowly lifted her head, curls falling out of the way. 

“I know what I must do,” a wild eyed Bellatrix slurred confidently as she stood, snapping out of her spiraling thoughts. The defensive part of Severus’s mind gave a feeble thought that she was likely about to turn to violence. He took another sip and shut that voice up. 

“Whuh- whassat?” A lower rank death eater found power enough to ask between hiccoughs.

Rodolphous tried to find his legs, “Darlin’, now Darlin’, there’s no point in fighting this.” He clutched on to the chair for dear life as he crouched near it, “If you do anything to- to- uhh..”

“Potter.” His brother slurred helpfully, from the chair.

“Yeah, ‘im. If you touch ‘im our Lord will not be pleased.” 

“Of course.” She waved dismissively in his direction.

“My Lord knows what he wants.” She told the room, “He deserves what he wants.” Bella proclaimed, swaying where she stood. A round of nods from the gathered drunks. A couple harrumphs! And pounding on surfaces.  

“If he’s already got a child on the way, there is only one thing to do.”

The room held its breath. 

“I have a baby shower to plan.”

—

“What are you doing?” Harry asked. Voldemort’s hands stilled where they were, having been attempting to open the front of Harry’s robes. That alone was not completely odd anymore. The Dark Lord liked to have an opinion on how the teen dressed and would commonly swap one cloak for another at whim. 

Over the last week or so of being at the manor Voldemort lived in, surprisingly not Malfoy Manor, Harry had learned something. That was that Voldemort threw himself into something completely when it had his interest. Well, okay he knew that already, since before this , as he had been single-mindedly after his life. But still, seeing it was something else. 

He was truly obsessive. And what had his interest now was seeing this continuation of his bloodline through perfectly. 

He had enlisted the advice of all of his followers and sent for their most recommended healer to check up on Harry and the barely-there pregnancy. The state of which had been checked no less than seven times. The snake was truly enamored with the idea of Harry being knocked-up. 

If Harry had known the monster would have gone for this idea, it would have been so much less work on his part. 

How would he ever have guessed that he would have gone for this, and so enthusiastically? Harry was being well-fed, and even on a diet plan. To go with the part, too, Voldemort had been accumulating him a wardrobe. Some of the robes clearly meant for months down the line, with how roomy they were. 

So, no, Voldemort making to take off his current robe was not unusual. What was unusual was the fact that Harry was lying down, having just been woken up from a nap (another new luxury, sleeping whenever the hell he wanted) and Voldemort was kneeling between his legs. 

His taller stature had him arching down over Harry to undo the buttons. The red slitted gaze blinked at him before continuing their goal. “Undressing you.”

“I can see that, but why ?” 

If this man wanted to have him change outfits again, surely he could have waited until Harry had been awake. And also, what was unfit about these robes? They were the shade of green that brought out the possessive gleam in Voldemort’s eyes whenever he had Harry in them. 

“Lord Voldemort has come across some additional beneficial information that pertains to a healthy pregnancy.”

“I doubt what I wear has anything to do with it. Where did you read this?” Harry didn’t even bother moving other than to obligingly lift one arm after the other for the man to slide his arms out of the sleeves.  

“Multiple sources have confirmed this, both written and verbal.” He tilted his head, “However, it does not exactly pertain to what you are wearing, but that the activity requires you wear less.”

“Wait, what?” Harry blinked and Voldemort deftly slid off his pants.

Bastard must have used magic, because that should not have gone so smoothly.

Harry frantically covered himself with his hands as pale fingers held his thighs apart. “What advice was this?” 

“Sex is beneficial durring pregancy.”

“ Who told you that? ” Harry squeaked, trying to squirm away unsuccessfully, for a frail looking creature, Voldemort had surprising strength. 

“Lucius. I confirmed it with our healer to ensure he was correct.” 

“What?? What other great advice have you been told?” 

“Lucius has confided in me a wise saying of Happy wife, happy life.”

“I am not your wife!”

“You are.”

“We- we’re not married!! And I am a guy!” Harry stopped squirming to blink up at the other in disbelief.

“Your gender has nothing to do with it. As for being married, I took care of that.”

Harry spluttered, propping himself up slightly on his elbows. “Bu-- how? Don’t both parties need to say I do or some shit?”

“It was a magical marriage, of course. There did need to be intent on both parties, and there was.”

“There certainly was not-”

“Did you not intend to bind me to you by bearing me a child? Magic cares for intention, Harry.”

He flopped back down on his back and covered his face, groaning. He had done that.

“I will not penetrate you unless you wish. You only need to let your Lord take care of you.” 

He was still between his legs.

Harry blushed scarlet, he was sure. Voldemort was truly serious about this. 

“You do want to be taken care of, do you not?” The Dark Lord queried, his head tilting as he leaned closer, “You do. Lord Voldemort can see it clearly in you, the desire to have someone look out for you, protect you…”

Harry blinked back, mouth agape. He had no words. What was he supposed to do? Confirm that statement? He’d always been the one that needed to protect others, stick his own neck out to save someone else. 

So yeah, he wanted to not have to do that, heck he went through this crazy plan because he didn’t want to die like others expected. …but he wasn’t about to admit it to Voldemort of all people.

“You do not need to admit it, Harry, but you deserve it. You have done so well .” He praised.

“Others would disagree. Lots of others.”  Including me, Harry thought, wryly, looking away from the monster to gaze blankly at the ceiling. 

“Do their opinions matter at this moment? You have secured your safety, your future, and pleased Lord Voldemort all in one moment.” He stated, before asking, “Do you regret it?”

Did he? 

No. 

Like Voldemort had just said, Harry was safe and would be safe for his future. There was still the lingering worry of what would come after this pregnancy, but with every day he already worried less. 

“I don’t regret it.” Harry whispered, not wanting to look at him.

“Then just lie back. Do not touch yourself, leave your pleasure up to Lord Voldemort.”

The slight sting of an internal cleaning charm tingled, though there was a distinct lack of wetness and loosening that Harry had felt with his own spell before.

He dared to train his eyes back on Voldemort in question, only to find the other’s gaze focused between his legs. There was a hissed murmur and skeletal digits glistened with a clear fluid. 

He’s going to loosen me up without magic. Harry’s breath shuddered at the thought. Then, shuddered again at the feeling of those digits prodding at his entrance.

Voldemort soothed with a caress to the outside of a thigh with the other hand as the slick fingers circled his rim. One dipped in, testing the tightness before retreating to circle several times more. 

“Relax, Harry.” The dark lord hissed lowly.

The finger prodded again, sinking in further. This time when it slid back, Voldemort did not remove it fully. Harry bit back a groan as it slid in and out and pulled at the muscle to stretch to accommodate another. 

The second finger had him taking a shakier breath as he reminded himself that he needed to breathe. All the while Voldemort’s other hand stroked along his flank in a grounding caress. 

With the second finger it didn’t take long before the steady methodical stretching of his arse the dark wizard was doing permitted a third, then fourth finger.

The gentle prodding became more insistent, and Harry gasped as his bundle of nerves was pressed insistently. He should have known the dark lord would make him come like this a second time when given the chance. Not that he was complaining , the fingers were making him tremble as it was. 

Voldemort bent closer. 

Harry had only a moment for a stray thought to wonder what he was doing before the serpintine face that loomed above his groin dipped further to swallow down Harry’s cock. 

Unable to process, his hands found themselves clutching at the smooth scalp of the monster as legs attempted to shut. The fingers inside him stroked harder and his legs quivered. 

“A- Ahhh!” He trembled, not sure which sensation was more intense- the wet warmth around his own prick or the firm massaging of his prostate. With his body turned to jelly under the onslaught of pleasure, he could barely do anything other than twitch his hips in small thrusts into the Dark Lord’s mouth and feeble grinds down onto the deep bursts of warmth in his gut. 

His hands, sliding on the bald scalp, struggled for anything stable to ground him in the moment and settled on the sheets around his own head. 

His orgasm came on embarrassingly quickly, arching and moaning pitifully. As he did, Voldemort gave a harsh suck before releasing Harry’s cock entirely. 

When his eyes had closed, he had no idea, but he opened them again at the monster’s voice, “ Stunning .” 

Voldemort had shifted up slightly and was gazing directly into Harry’s own eyes with unabashed hunger, eyes so dilated with lust the red hue of them was near gone. He felt, then, that the fingers that had pried open his deepest part were still inside as they lightly stroked again. 

“ Blissed out from Lord Voldemort’s touch, you are truly captivating, my dear.” The low parseltongue thrummed through him. 

Merlin, he should be over sensitive from coming already, but the look the Dark Lord was giving him, the praise , and the now gentle massaging in his core had his prick filling again slowly. 

He broke eye contact with the man to look at the limb that was still between his spread legs and caught a glimpse of obviously tented fabric. Voldemort’s words came back to him “ I will not penetrate you unless you wish .”

He hated that he wanted that again. 

Once again the thought that he should not enjoy this, should not be reaping such things from his cowardly escape from being in the upcoming war. However, he brushed it away, quicker and with less guilt than before. 

Because, what did it matter at this point?

He’d already had the man inside him.

He was already knocked up.

And damn had it felt good before.

So, gently, he reached down and pulled at the wrist that was causing his cock to fill again from the inside. “ I wish it.” He said simply, hoping that the man would get his meaning. 

The wordless hiss and wandless waving away of dark robes confirmed that indeed, he had, and Harry would not need to actually say he wanted what he wanted.

“ Perhaps another time, my dear.” 

Harry blinked in confusion at him.

“ The thought of you begging for your Lord’s cock…” Voldemort hissed. He reached up with the lube slicked hand to stroke reverently across Harry’s still flat stomach, “ While you are already so deeply claimed, growing my heir…”

The desire coming off the other was near-palpable and Harry reached again to clutch at the wrist now possessively splayed over his navel, where their child surely was growing.

“ …I crave it.” 

Fuck.

So did Harry apparently. His own cock twitched at the thought and he took a shuddering breath. He watched mesmerized as the Dark Lord used the wandless lube spell another time, this time on his own sizable manhood. 

He stroked leisurely a few times. He could feel the man’s gaze boring into him, but couldn’t draw his eyes away from the member that had swelled and was now glistening. He felt his arse clench in anticipation. 

“For now, dear, I simply want to be inside you.” 

The Dark Lord eased him over onto his belly, and he went willingly. His chest down to the sheets and arse in the air, he spread his own legs in invitation. 

Voldemort’s cock slid in and Harry moaned, pushing back onto it. 

He was already so loose from the fingering and the orgasm that the Dark Lord found no resistance in Harry's body and sunk all the way in. There was a heartbeat of just fullness, before he pulled back with a squelch and started an easy rhythm.

One hand clutched at his hip, pulling him into his thrusts, while the other went back to stroking over his navel like he could not get enough of the thought of Harry’s state. 

Maybe Harry, too, now that the thought was there.

Voldemort picked up the pace, forcing himself in faster.

He was enjoying this. The feeling of being claimed and praised and protected. 

As much as he tried to meet the monster’s thrusts, he was barely keeping up. His body was being rocked with him only holding on for the ride. The man behind him was completely in control of the movement, and it was exhilarating.

Not just in sex, but outside of it. 

He had intended to be safe from Voldemort with his plan, but he realized now that Voldemort, too, would protect him from everything. The powerful wizard was obsessed with him and now that obsession led to protection.

And amazing sex.

Harry groaned as said wizard slammed his hips harder against him and paused to ground his cock in . The rough abuse of his prostate made him cry out as his legs lost strength. Without the hands holding him in place he would have fallen flat at that thrust. As it was, the Dark Lord eased him down flat onto his stomach, before resuming his brutal claiming.

Sprawled on his belly now, there was no room to even attempt to meet the thrusts, only lie and take what the dark wizard gave him. If possible, the vulnerability made him harder.

Breathing harshly, Harry turned his head to a side gasping for breath. A pale hand was in view and he grabbed on to the wrist desperately. The Dark lord had arched above him with arms braced on either side as he drove down into Harry. 

He was pretty sure he was crying from the pressure of the monster’s cock plowing into him brutally at this point. He couldn’t touch his face to be sure, needing the grounding grasp of the other’s— his apparent husband’s— wrist.

So close.

Said man must have seen the wetness of his face as hissing became unintelligible and he felt the body above his envelop him completely. He was smothered under the larger frame— safe. 

Voldemort bit down on his neck and Harry came hard into the mattress with a sob.

The thrusts stuttered as he clenched down on the cock fucking him, before a few more powerful ones followed causing more sobs. Finally, the Dark Lord came, too, weight fully pressing down on him as he did. 

Harsh breaths sounded directly near his ear while Harry lay trembling under the Dark Lord. 

Voldemort rolled them onto their sides, wrapping long arms around Harry’s middle. He soothed with touches again, this time steering clear of arousing. He felt him slip out of his arse along with some wetness, but the Dark Lord stayed pressed close hissing praises as Harry calmed. 

He shouldn’t, but fuck , he could really get used to this.

“Huh”, Harry finally said after several minutes of post-orgasmic cuddles. He tried to clear his throat of the raspiness to no avail before tilting his head to look up and behind him at the Dark Lord. “Did Lucius have any other advice?”