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How Do You Want Me - Chapter 24
Title: How Do You Want Me
Author: Moitness
Rating: R
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Warnings: Angst, Extreme Physical Abuse, Language, Male Pregnancy, Parenthood/Children, Smut, Yaoi / Slash
Summary: Harry sneaks out of his dorm and runs into the one and only, Draco Malfoy. After Draco gives him an illegal potion, their world is about to be flipped upside down
Disclaimer: Not mine.



Dumbledore didn’t send for Harry until two days later in Potions class. The class was as terrible for Harry as usual. Snape had already vanished his “foul concoction that has no place in a classroom” before assigning him a two foot essay about the importance of paying attention to detail in Potions class.

As Harry began piling his books back into his bag, a first year Ravenclaw stepped into the room. “Professor Snape, Sir,” the boy stammered, “Headmaster Dumbledore would like to see Harry Potter, please, Sir.”

Harry looked up at the Potions Master, waiting for permission.

Snape narrowed his eyes. “You heard the boy.”

Harry wasted no time gathering his things. As he walked toward the door, he threw a glace back at Draco. The Slytherin stood up.

“You will remain in class until you finish your potion, Mr. Malfoy.”

Draco sat back down. He gave the brunette an encouraging nod, to which Harry responded with a weak smile.

The first year left Harry at the gargoyle entrance to Dumbledore’s office with a whispered word that caused the statue to jump out of he way. As Harry climbed the stairs, he was filled with trepidation. By the time he got to the door to the headmaster’s office, he was nearly hyperventilating.

“Come in, Harry,” Dumbledore said, motioning through the open door.

Harry closed his mouth and started breathing through his nose, hoping to calm himself. As he stepped through the threshold, the door clicked shut behind him. Harry jumped at the noise and his head reflexively jerked to the right. Christopher Rhyahni sat there, looking as innocent as ever.

“Hullo, Harry.”

Harry’s eyes grew wide. He began shaking his head slowly, before gaining speed. He squeezed his eyes shut.

“No, no, no, no, no,” he pleaded, back up. Harry tried the doorknob to no avail. “Harry-” the Headmaster tried, over the young wizard’s shouting. Harry wasn’t listening. He gave up on the doorknob in favour of pounding on the door.

“Please let me out. Please, please, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’ll be good.”

The door opened and Harry fell into Draco’s arms, sobbing. “Just what is going on in here?” Draco asked over Harry’s shoulder.

“It seems,” Dumbledore said quietly, “that Mr. Potter isn’t as stable as he would like us to believe.”

Their next stop was the infirmary, despite Harry’s vehement opposition. Rhy told Harry to feel better, to which the Gryffindor eloquently replied, “Go find somewhere else to stick your cock, you fucking rapist.”

It took three doses of a calming draught to finally get Harry to sit still and allow Pomfrey to asses him.

I’m going to give him this,” she said, handing a small blue bottle to Draco. “This should help with the episodes. Harry is suffering from delusions. In stressful situations, his mind reverts back to his abusive past.”

Draco nodded. Harry sat stoically next to him, thoroughly intoxicated with the potions Pomfrey had given him.

“He needs to take three drops daily on the tongue. After we see how he reacts, we’ll adjust the dose accordingly.”

“This isn’t going to hurt the baby, is it?”

“No,” Pomfrey said. “The only side effect is an increase in appetite.” She glanced over Harry’s thin frame. “In this case, a few extra meals would be highly recommended.” She raised her wand. “Enervate.”

As though waking from hypnosis, Harry blinked his eyes, looking around. “Was that completely necessary?” he hissed. “You might as well have put me under a full-body bind. It would have given you the same effect.”

“Harry,” Pomfrey said gently, “I just need you to take one dose of the medication and you’re free to leave.”

Harry narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. He jerked the bottle out of Draco’s hand and dispensed three drops on his tongue. “There. Are we all happy now?” he mocked, before storming out of the infirmary.

Draco stood up, but Pomfrey placed a hand on his arm.

“Give him some time. Go have dinner and let him calm down.”

Draco nodded begrudgingly. He thanked Pomfrey for her help and left the infirmary.

As he entered the Great Hall, Draco scanned the Gryffindor table to no avail. Dinner was a quiet affair after that. Blaise was conveniently absent, which forced Draco into an awkward conversation with forgotten friends. He left earlier than everyone else begging off a headache. The truth was that he just wanted to see Harry.

Draco opened the door to his bedroom, reading to question Harry about his absence from dinner. The words died on his tongue when he saw Blaise and Seamus curled up on Blaise’s bed. Confusion settled on Draco’s delicate features.

“Where’s Harry?”

“I haven’t seen him all day, mate,” Blaise answered.

“He was in the room when I left for dinner,” Seamus chipped in. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Draco answered, schooling his features. “No problem.” He turned and left Blaise and Seamus to themselves.

By the time Draco got to Gryffindor Tower, he had run out of reasons for Harry to be mad at him. He approached the Fat Lady with his most charming smile.

“Good evening, my dear, Fat Lady.”

“Slytherins are not permitted access to this dormitory,” she answered, sniffing indignantly.

Draco shrugged indifferently. “I came to see you, actually.”

The Fat Lady turned to the blond with interest. “Really?”

“Of course,” Draco answered. “I had to see for myself if you were truly as beautiful as everyone has been saying.

The Fat Lady batted her eyelashes. “So, am I?”

“Between you and I,” Draco leaned in to the portrait. “Words alone cannot describe your beauty.”

“Oh, my dear, boy!” The Fat Lady crooned. She fanned herself with a hand. “You’re making me blush!”

Draco’s grin widened. “Actually, I’m the one who should be blushing in the presence of such a gorgeous woman.”

“Oh, stop!” the Fat Lady sighed, waving a hand.

“I cannot possibly,” Draco simpered. “You hair is like a golden sunrise. And your eyes are like the deep blue sea.”

“Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be young again.”

“Would you be willing to give up the password?”

“Oh you,” the Fat Lady laughed.

“Actually, could you do me a favour, love?”

“Anything,” the Fat Lady swooned, resting her chin on one hand as she gazed adoringly at the Slytherin.

“You see, my girlfriend is a Gryffindor. She asked me to help her study Arithmancy. She’s a fifth year, see. She’s not doing well in the class. Since I have the highest marks, there was no way I could say no when she asked me to help. What’s a boyfriend for, right?”

“And such a gentleman, at that,” the Fat Lady added.

“Right.” Draco continued, “She gave me the password so I could help her study, and now I’ve forgotten it.”

“Oh,” the Fat Lady giggled. “The password is ‘Chudley Cannons’. But, of course, I can’t tell you the password.”

“Naturally,” Draco agreed. “Chudley Cannons.”

Despite the Fat Lady’s protesting, the portrait swung open and Draco clamoured through. A few curious Gryffindors looked up.

“Just here to see Harry,” he said, dismissing them with a wave of his hand.

Draco climbed the stairs and stopped at the sixth year boys’ dormitory. Taking a deep breath, he knocked softly on the door. When he received no response, he tried the knob. Thankfully, it was unlocked.

Draco stepped into the dark room and closed the door behind him. He lit his wand tip with a whispered, ‘lumos’. All the beds were empty, except for Harry’s bed, where the Gryffindor lay sleeping peacefully. Draco crossed the room in three quick strides to kneel beside Harry’s sleeping form. He laid his wand down gently on Harry’s bedside table. His eyes roamed over the small boy who barely looked his age.

Harry lay on his side, one arm curled protectively around his belly. Draco frowned when he saw the white handkerchief tied around Harry’s arm. He lifted a hand to reveal the damage, but a soft voice stopped him.

“Please don’t.”

Draco looked up.

Harry’s eyes glowed a deep jade in the dim wand light. “It helps me sleep,” he said, covering the bandaged arm with his other hand.

“Why didn’t you go lay down in my room?” Draco asked, smoothing the fringe away from Harry’s forehead.

“I thought it would be quieter in here.”

“Here?” Draco quirked and eyebrow. “You live with four other blokes. How could you expect it to be quiet?”

“I just wanted to be alone, okay?” Harry’s tone betrayed his agitation. He rolled away from Draco and closed his eyes.

“You would have been alone in my room.”

“Draco!” Harry rolled over onto his back, slamming his uninjured hand onto the bed. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about! If I went to your room, either you or Blaise would be there to baby-sit me like I’m a toddler or something.”

“Harry.”

“No.” Harry said, “Let me finish. I came up here because I didn’t think you would be able to show up. I cut myself with a razor when I came up here, Draco. It’s in the bottom of my trunk, pressed between the pages of ‘Quidditch Through the Ages’, if you want it. You might as well compare my habit to smoking a fag, or having a wank. It helps me sleep.

“The other morning when I woke up early and told you I need a glass of water, I lied. I didn’t drop the glass and cut myself. I left a blade in your bathroom so I could cut. I cut myself on purpose so I could sleep.”

When he finished, Draco sat back on his heels. “I thought you slept well with me beside you.”

Harry sighed and struggled to sit up. When Draco reached out to help, Harry glared at him. “I can do it myself,” he growled, pulling the pillow out from under himself roughly, to prop it against the headboard.

“Don’t mollycoddle me, Draco,” he said, crossing his arms above his belly. The effect he was aiming for was somehow lost, however. “I’ve gotten on for sixteen years without anyone’s help and I don’t need yours now.”

“Harry, what’s gotten in to you?”

“Your spawn,” Harry glowered.

Draco pursed his lips and counted to ten silently before opening his mouth. “I don’t know why you’re mad at me,” he said, finally.

“Oh, you are so self-absorbed!” Harry cried, throwing his hands in the air.

“What do you want me to-”

“Get out.” Harry’s tone was low and dangerous.

“What?”

“Get out!”

When Draco rose to his feet, but continued to stand in front of Harry, staring, the Gryffindor shouted at him, “I said ‘get out!’”

Draco could barely mask the hurt and confusion that filled his eyes, before he left the dormitory, allowing the door to click shut softly behind him.

Left alone in the dark, Harry curled into a foetal position and allowed himself to cry.