The Issue of Mine Enemy

BY : PerfesserN
Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female
Dragon prints: 38001
Disclaimer: Okay, okay. I'm NOT JK Rowlings, I do not own Harry Potter. I make no money from writing these stories, I do it because it's fun and other people seem to enjoy what I write - the best of whom write review and tell me when I get it right and

Name: PerfesserN

E-mail address: PerfesserN@hotmail.com

Title: Family Issue

Summary: Wherein the rabbit dies and Draco has a very bad day

Categories: Drama, romance, violence (in parts)

Pairings: Bellatrix/Harry, Harry/Marietta, Bellatrix/Harry/Marietta

Chapter 12 – “I’m What?”

“Remember ‘James,’ we’re still auror candidates and not at Hogwarts anymore. Our behavior in public mustn’t hint at any kind of relationship or we’re both drummed out of the Auror Corps; all right?”

Harry nodded in understanding, but he had a real honest to goodness girlfriend and he wanted to shout it from the mountaintop.

“An’ get rid of that ridiculous smirk when you’re round’ me, it’s a dead giveaway!”

“Smirk?” he asked, and then repeated “smirk? Don’t you mean the glow of a new and brilliant relationship?”

“Oh Goddess, this isn’t going t’ work. . .”

“Easy yeoman,” he fell into his ‘instructor mode’ without missing a beat, “they may have missed us at breakfast, and lunch, but we can make tea if we double time it to the open mess.”

“Perfect” she said, her relief obvious “Repple Evans, if you please?”

“Of course, yeoman; just one thing if I may?”

“Sah?”

“Respectfully request a quick feel and a snog before we go?”

Marietta groaned, “No! Tea first, then play! Move ya great lummox!”

Harry sighed “and so it begins, the honeymoon’s over before it begins, now she’s ordering me around. Half a mo’ I thought I was the ranking officer here?”

She kissed his cheek and said “of course, dear. Move along now.”

They had sandwiches and tea at their normal table, they didn’t sit any closer, and they didn’t to their knowledge act any different toward each other so why did it seem that the entire platoon was smirking at them as they enjoyed tea and company?

“Are we wearing signs or something?” Harry whispered across the table.

“No, but folks seem t’ know.” She murmured back.

“Are there any other ‘couples’ that you know of?”

“Smythe and Prince” she smirked.

“No! Actually?” Then he remembered their dance the night before and the deep kissing at the end. “Is there going to be a problem there?”

“Nah’ really, they’re in what y’ call an ‘open’ relationship. Which means either or both of them will happily shag whoever pleases them; whenever they please.”

“Ah, fear of commitment,” at her puzzled expression Harry asked “what, never read Cosmo? Who else’s involved?”

“Well there’s Harcourt, Brace, and some rumor about Jovanovich making a threesome.”

“Two blokes and a bird, interesting dynamic.”

Just then Harry doubled over and grimaced, “Uhgh, what’s in these sandwiches?”

“A bad sarny wouldn’t hit you that soon, c’mon Repple, back to the infirmary with you.”

“Wait, I’m fine I’m. . .” he didn’t finish because he doubled over again.

“Oh yeah, you’re fine all right, lets go.”

They walked, well, she walked and he stooped to the infirmary only to be met by Healer Dumphries.

“No, no. This won’t do at all. Malingerers only get ill on working days, if you’re going to see me on a liberty weekend you must really be feeling poorly.”

“Cramps” was all Harry could get out.

“Feeling the need to go anywhere Evans?” the healer asked concerned.

“No” Harry groaned

“Well, that’s odd” the healer said as he passed a clear glowing crystal over Harry’s aura. The crystal hummed and a mist coalesced into the form of a vaporous rabbit. The spectral rabbit looked slightly angry at Harry, and then began to dissipate. “That’s a positive then?” The rabbit looked exasperated and nodded before completely disintegrating.

“What?” Harry and Marietta asked simultaneously.

“Well it took longer than usual for the results to come in and all the symptoms are not showing but there’s no mistaking this reading.” He helped Harry to sit on the edge of the diagnostic bed. “Repple, it looks like I get my sickle back. The rabbit test is irrefutable. And in your case, the rabbit died.”

“What does that mean, what are you not telling me?”

“I’m sorry, I thought even muggles knew about the rabbit test, when we say ‘the rabbit died’ it means that you are definitely pregnant.”

Marietta sat down hard. “but he, but we; hey, just a tick its too soon anyway we just. . .”

“Something you need to tell me yeoman?”

“Harry, how could you!”

“Harry? Who’s Harry?”

“No one, f’get it it’s just a nickname. Answer the question you!”

Just then Moody burst through the door and demanded “I got a code yellow on the secrecy detector, what happened?”

“I happened; Sergeant Major,” Marietta confessed, “I called him Harry.”

Healer Dumphries had a keen discerning mind, he also knew that the Regimental Sergeant Major had a history with a rather famous ‘Harry’ and he put it all together in about half a second.

“Mr. Potter, I presume?” the healer asked.

“Your choice Healer Dumphries,” growled Moody, “obliviation or General Order number three.”

“Actually RSM, you’ll find that healer/patient confidentiality overrules your general order and unless I’m convicted of a crime you are expressly forbidden to obliviate me as you might accidentally destroy years of medical knowledge and experience.”

“Harry, who’s the mother?” Marietta asked in a too calm voice.

“No idea.”

“You mean you’ve been shagging so many bints that you can’t narrow it down to just one?” too calm climbed to too loud in less than a second.

“I haven’t been shagging anyone, I mean, that is until. . .”

“I don’t want ta’ hear it, you told me I was special, you told me I made you feel special, it’s all a line innit? I shoulda’ left you on the dance floor with Prince, you two coulda’ worn each other out an’ woulda’ had a good laugh ‘bout it in the morning, but nooo, you had t’ put your moves on poor ol’ pathetic Marietta, the social leper!” Tears were streaming down both cheeks as she turned her back on Harry, “What am I, just another notch in your wand?” She emptied all the pockets of her trainee’s robes and threw the books, parchments and quills on the floor before storming away. Just before she slammed the door she shouted “you kin get y’self another yeoman Evans, I’m sacked!”

_____ooo000ooo_____

Bellatrix could hear Draco Malfoy scream as Voldemort and his deprived death eaters took turns practicing the cruciatus. As much as she hated all the Malfoys, save one, her sister Narcissa, she couldn’t bear to hear the little weasel scream much longer. Much longer and Draco would be little more than the walking vegetables that were the Longbottoms. She buried her head in her pillow and sobbed, reliving the day she had gleefully reduced the young couple, obviously in love, with a tiny baby to support, to drooling lumps of flesh that only superficially resembled the people, the parents, the friends, the lovers they once were. “I swear, young Neville, I will find some way to make it up to you. And all those whose lives I have destroyed in the service of that reptile!”

The curses stopped. The screaming stopped. Was it over, was he dead or worse?

“Bellatrix,” someone called from the door, Avery or Nott or some other sycophant.

“I’ll be just a moment.”

Bellatrix Black stood tall and proud and composed herself. A quick cleansing charm to restore her face and she strode, head high, shoulders back into the throne chamber.

Draco was standing next to his father, his eyes darting back and forth, flinching at the sounds of Bellatrix’s footsteps.

“Ah, Bellatrix” the snake man greeted her.

“Young Draco has found the most interesting missive, show her Draco, it’s all right Draco, you can show her.”

Her nephew regained some of his composure, but retained the nervous tick, as he stumbled over to her and held out a torn piece of parchment. On it in her own handwriting were the words: “Portkey to Diagon Alley go to white. . .”

ooo000ooo

Starting in the late 1920s doctors would inject a woman’s urine into the bloodstream of a rabbit. If the ovaries of the rabbit developed distinctive bulging masses the woman was definitely preggers and given the ‘happy news.’ Of course to see the ovaries of the rabbit it had to be killed, so “the rabbit died” is a foregone conclusion (the rabbit’s conclusion that is).


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