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For Survival	By : PurpleOwl Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 6999 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own in anyway or form the characters nor the world of Harry Potter, they belong to the author who has created them, nor am I making any money from this story.

Chapter List
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- 2
- 3
Disclaimer: I do not own in anyway or form the characters nor the world of Harry Potter, they belong to the author who has created them, nor am I making any money from this story.
Author's note: This story should be pretty straight forward, I do not intend for it to be overly long. This will contain HP/DM, HP/BZ, there will be homosexual sex implied and graphic (I hope), male pregnancy and deceptions. This story follows the Harry Potr series and begins the last week of August 2005.
Warnings: There is a rape scene in this chapter, read with caution. The scene will be in italics, skip it if you are uncomfortable with it. And to say I usually like Blaise... Why? Oh! Why?
Summary: Dealing with the death of his first lover, an overbearing second one and a pregnancy that is not what it seems might have been more than Harry had planed and wanted for his life after the war.

For Survival
Chapter Two

Personal Attack

Previous Chapter:

When there was a conversation in the morning that was usually it. Harry felt it was wrong to have his every thoughts brushed off like that everyday until it fit the other man's program or interest but he felt there was nothing he could do to change it. He did as told like the meek little hufflepuff he wasn't and ate his breakfast before being side aparated to the isolation ward he was confined to even during the week ends. That day he did not read he just wondered why he was acting so submissive and where in Morgana's good graces was his wand?

On with the Story:

“What do you mean PREGNANT? I said I was not feeling well! I didn't say anything about anything growing, I don't even want to know where, IN me?”

That's it, he was hysterical. He had not even had the time to explain his symptoms and the arsehole told him he was pregnant! Pregnant! Without even taking the painful Corpus Uteri Conformationem potion. He also heard it was very nasty, like puke inducing nasty. But back to the real world; how and why and where did the Italian felt he knew he was pregnant?

“Are you dumb Potter? Yes pregnant. Apparently you created your own womb, grief might have been good for you in the end.”

The mental slap he received from that sentence couldn't have hurt more if it had been physical. For the first time since coming to live here he felt like he had betrayed Draco. He couldn't think, he couldn't make head nor tail of his feelings and Blaise was not helping.

The man had moved from his seat and made him raise from his. The lips on his felt aggressive and unwanted yet he could not muster the strength to resist. The kiss was one sided and conveyed a passion he felt robed of. His lips were being nibbled on and bitten here and there, it felt uncomfortable, it didn't feel like love. Maybe he had needed it to realize what he had here with this particular Slytherin wasn't, had never been and would never be love. Oh how he hated himself for having given in.

He was pushed backward in what he knew was the direction of the man's bedroom even though 'his' was closer. With a jolt he understood that he had slept in that bed for about a week. In a week he had been coerced into spreading his legs. That too had felt like a slap. Harsher than the first, he could feel the tears building up in his eyes.

He felt the bed at his knees and panicked he babbled a few nos and don'ts but it seemed to change nothing. He knew they had been said out loud but maybe the fact that he had no motor functions except those he was probe into taking had not stopped nor slowed Blaise. It felt dirty, he felt dirty, but his brain was still trying to cope and was not cooperating.

His clothes were taken off him roughly. The buttons on his dress shirt were ripped off and flew in all directions, something Draco would have never done. The useless fabric fell to the floor without more help, not even a caress to help it along. His trousers and pants were dragged down together in one quick movement after the belt had simply been undone. His shoes, socks and clothing never totally removed from his body. It felt degrading, like he was paid for his time and found not even worth the time to undress.

He was turned around and he nearly lost his balance because of the restriction his trouser provided while moving. Not one for patience Zabini just pushed him forward and his face met the mattress. Harry hated that position, it felt cold and unfriendly. He had loved to see Draco's face while making love, how he could see the adoration in those pale grey eyes. Maybe this position was for the best. That way it felt like the rape it really was.

The lowered zip was heard and a bit of foundling before he felt more than understood the glob of spit that hit his lower back. The incantation to empty his bowel tore threw his inside as uncomfortable as it always was when performed by someone else. Somehow it was impossible to get the pressure right when doing it to another being. It felt like a toilet brush had been shoved up his ass and was scrubbing away at his inside. The feeling was not even gone when he felt his rapist finger toying in the spit a few second before one was entering his rectum with what felt and probably was done with no care.

The finger entered him once or twice before a second joined it. The twinge that was ever present when too little lubrication was use was worse than usual and he felt cheap. Cheap because it appears he was not even worth a lubrication spell which ran out too soon nor the real stuff which was the best one could hope for.

The appendages moved in and out in short successions and were poking and prodding his inside with little precision and even less attention. That was when his green eyes widen and for the first time he noticed he did not have an erection, in fact, in all the times he and Blaise had sex, he never has sported one.

All too soon he felt the man hard-on on his lower back playing in what was left of the spit. That was when he regained use of his limbs and tried to move away. He was prevented from moving much by the hands on his hips and the No he was yelling cut short by the dick that was rammed into his rectum with too much force on under prepared muscles. The pain was excruciating. For a split second he thought it was a knife that had been shoved in and not an undersized penis like he knew the Italian to possess. He tried to breath threw the pain and relax but it felt impossible because before he had managed to even take a second deep breath the coming and going started.

The man's movement lacked finesse and rhythm. It was like he did not even knew that his four inches privates were in fact four inches and not six so every few trust he left the opening and forced himself in again. Each time tearing more at the muscles. He was sure the damage was important enough to have made him bleed because of the liquid he could feel slowly running down the inside of his left leg which could not have been lubricant since none had been used.

He was lost into that painful world until he felt a small burst of burning liquid hit his bowels. The rod that had hurt him so left his entrance as it lost most of it's size and he breathed in relief.

He felt the Italian lay on his back fully clothed, he had not even bothered to undress before raping him. He felt cheap and used and dirty and he knew it would never leave him. Years from now he would still remember that day and he would still feel guilty for not having put on a bigger fight. He could just hope to one day forgive himself his weakness.

“You know Harry...”

Blaise had to cut his sentence there as his breathing was to ragged to continue.

“You know, you were too easy. Now the brat's mine and Draco, poor Draco will never have you back!"

The tears that he had managed to hold in broke free of his eyes. Why did the man had to bring up his lost love?

“He is not dead you know? The plane that crashed was going to India not Indonesia but your friends were too stupid to know better and so were you apparently. I didn't knew you could be so easily fooled and now? Now you are mine because of the old laws protecting old blood lines. After all it wouldn't do for the Zabini's to disappear, now would it, whore?”

His magic whom had always had a mind of it's own blew the rapist and manipulating slytherin off his back and across the room. The clothes that were broken and soiled disappeared and and he found himself dressed in a Hogwart's uniform. The clothing he had first felt belonging in didn't seem to help and suddenly he was dressed in Draco's favourite attire. Somehow he knew the blond had been wearing it a moment before and hope he had not left his lover stalkers on the other side of the world. That more than anything proved to him that Zabini had been truthful in the last few minutes more than he had been in the last few weeks.

The angry magic surrounding him followed him to his given room destroying every glass object on his way. He had been lied to, used, abused, raped, impregnated by force, force fed potions which probably played with his brain and incarcerated against his will. When dinner came he refused to eat what was served to him fearing being poisoned again. The minty hot chocolate a dead give away.

He tried to think like Hermione would and passed in review all the potions he knew to use mint in. The Alihosty Potion which cause hysteria indeed used mint but it was not green in finish. The doxicide was not toxic, it was minty but it was translucent and it would have had no effects on him. The Bruise-Removal paste used mint and vanilla for scent but it was toxic when in liquid form if swallowed. The Cough potion was yellowish in colour and had lumps in it, the one he took did not. Amortentia could smell like mint when the one who smelled it liked mint, he did not therefore that was not it. Gregory's Unctious Unction was minty, was green and he was sure that was what he had swallowed more than a few times. He had been given a damnable liquid form of an emotion based Imperius Curse! He racked his brain and realized that he had thought Zabini to be a friend, not his best friend like the potion had designed but a friend. He had thought himself impervious to those types of manipulations but apparently even he was not safe. Why had he not used his brain before?

It reinforced his decision to refuse to eat anything provided to him. He would drink from the water tap until he was allowed to cook for himself which he was sure would happen. After all he knew of the law the Italian had spoken of. It meant that they were 'married' as long as he carried his spawns and would be stuck with the man if the child survived. Many pureblood 'marriage' were due by accidental pregnancy and upheld by the birth of an healthy child. As long as he was with child he belonged to Blaise, so the man would not let him starve.

He cried the night away. Cried for Draco and for himself. He didn't knew how he would get out of the situation he was in. Magical pregnancy such as male pregnancy could not be interrupted. He never thought he would want to interrupt his own carrying. Not that he was against abortion, he felt it was the choice of the woman, but he himself didn't knew what to think anymore. Could he abandon his child at birth than? Would he be able to?

Were there exceptions for rape? For that he would have to wait until Draco came back and decided to look for him or for Zabini to brag. He was sure the latter would come first. It seems like the man's type. He felt like collateral damage, like he was not the one whom the anger and hurt was aimed at.

He was woken up after too few hours of sleep the next morning by a yelp. Apparently his magic had not receded under his skin and kept Blaise from touching him. It was a good thing because he could feel his skin crawl just from thinking about the man's hand on him even in a non sexual way. He was ordered to change and eat both of which he refused. The elf magics could only do so much against a wizard's will even under the orders of his master. So the clothing stayed and the food remained untouched before he was taken to the isolation ward at the hospital by Wiki.

He went hungry for three days before he was confronted with his refusal to eat.

“You do know you'll die before the baby does right?”

If he thought it would make him eat he was wrong.

“Better dead than poisoned by you again. I'm sure the baby feels the same way.”

The conversation continued one sided. The arguments becoming less and less polite and coherent. His magic raised up again when the man tried to apparate food in his stomach and change his clothes. It simply protected him. But when he tried to hit him the slap did connect with the shield his magic had thrown up and shocks of electricity ran up the slytherin's arm. It must have been very painful from the scream that tore out of that throat in that ugly voice.

He was taken once more to the closed room at St-Mungo's by Wiki. The poor thing was looking pitiful after having had to punish itself for the last three days, but again it had never really looked healthy from the start. He tried to raise some sentiment for the house-elf but couldn't. If he caved now he would lose the advantage. That and in the end the elf was helping keeping him prisoner and had also lied by omission, he had a lot of trouble forgiving that.

The next day he was taken to the kitchen very early in the morning and told to cook for himself. He only used fresh products and refused all the short cuts and cereals that were offered to him. He cleaned all the utensils, bowls, plates and cooking wear he used before use, drank only water. The breakfast was bland from lack of spices but it was food and it was safer.

The next few weeks passed the same way. Him cooking his breakfast and lunch not letting the meal out of his sight, going to St-Mungo's hospital, coming back to cook dinner and hiding in his bedroom. The poor elf was at wits end and had taken to freshen the clothes on his back when he had refused to change out of them for the seventh day in a row.

The morning sickness passed before he could get used to it and estimated he was probably around seven maybe eight or so week pregnant according to the schedule he had gotten from Zabini. But it made no sense. He had heard from Hermione, who at the time was already researching pregnancy not to walk into something she did not understood, that morning sickness tended to ease after week twelve in women! In men the embryo made by magic roamed in the body for near a month before attaching himself in the previously made womb which was were doctors started counting the weeks of a pregnancy in males. The morning sickness therefore eased around week ten since the incubation was not measured the same way. A 38 weeks pregnancy not 40.

His baby would be a Malfoy! There was no way Zabini could be it's father if morning sickness did end around week ten, which he was now sure it did, because he hadn't had any sexual contact with the man before eight weeks previous.

The shock that the baby was probably not Blaise wore off quickly into worry. The only reason he was able to make his own food and was mostly kept safe was because the man thought he was carrying his baby. Of course there was no proof but he was certain the child was Draco's and he didn't knew how long he could hide it.

Time passed and he was seventeen weeks pregnant, near half way threw and he still had no way out and had none of the tests done to see if the child was growing well. He was showing, a lot, and it worried him too. He, in fact, made himself sick with worry a few times. He still remained at the hospital as long as he could and he still avoided his captor as much as possible,

The next day at the hospital was even louder than the last and the many cry of Merry Christmas told him why. The notion that the Italian was always working finally set in even if he never took a day off before. He cried at being without Draco during the Holidays, at not being able to tell his love of their child but even more at the thought of having dinner with his rapist that night.

He made sure to remind himself everyday that Blaise Zabini had raped him. That the man had tricked him into drinking more and more alcohol and potions to force him into false consensual sex. And that he had once refuse to acknowledge Harry's refusal even though it had been clear if not fought for.

When Wiki came to take him 'home' he refused, preferring to starve and sleep alone far from the one who had tried and managed to take his life away from him. The four cold and closed walls of the ward was better than all the open space in the Zabini mansion. The lack of food was a comfort when compared to facing the other man. The small blanket he had been given more comfortable than the risk of being raped again.

Again and again in the next weeks he would pack bigger lunchs with many frozen bottles and stay over night at the hospital only to go back when he ran out of food.

The clothes he had stolen from Draco whom was both taller, larger and more muscly than him did not fit him anymore. The pants and trouser were forced to hang precariously on his hips. The shirt's buttons left undone. Only the over coats, whom thankfully was following the latest fashion, could be considered to still fit his enlarged frame. The blond would have a seizure seeing him so badly dressed in his favourite tailor made outfit. The overcoat that was supposed the hang stylishly off a strong frame was closed tight over his ballooned abdomen. In his worse moods Harry would think it would serve him right for his lover to see him dressed that way, let him suffer a bit for leaving him alone while pregnant.

There were few positive thoughts going threw his cotton like brain cells lately. All he felt like was sleeping and snapping at someone to get him his cravings. He wanted pretty normal things like popcorn over chocolate ice cream with maple syrup or chips with basil and sun dried tomato mayo with a side of chicken and bananas. Not anything he could really get...

He also chose to pass New Year's Eve and New Year alone. That was the first time he felt the baby move. It felt more like the fluttering of butterfly wings than a baby moving around but he could not explain the strange sensation otherwise. Was it early? Or late? He didn't knew.

Just like no one had told him if it was normal for his breast to feel so sensitive. Their colour seemed darker too and had they enlarged? Stretch marks appeared on his sides, his ankles had swollen and he felt faint and dizzy more often than not. The loo appeared every other minute it seemed even when he avoided drinking more than necessary. Having never been around pregnant women before he didn't knew if this was the norm or not. His interest in Hermione's research had been short. At the time he had not hoped nor wanted to carry a child. He had been and still was scared. He hadn't been and still wasn't mentally ready. But that time was passed and wishing he had payed more attention was worthless.

On day near the end of January, or was it February yet, Wiki never came to try and apparate him to the Zabini home. Maybe the elf knew that with the amount of food he had packed he would not accept the side-along? Or Blaise had simply been tired of his servant punishing itself and had decided to give it a break?

The next day saw him with no company in the evening, the following night was also passed at the hospital and he was getting low on food. He had no more ice and only had an apple and a few tomatoes left. He was actually starting to worry that the Italian would keep his promise and let him starve until he would accept to kindly drink the potions provided to him. Would he? In a half starved state with a child depending on him, would he really accept to poison himself? He didn't knew and was afraid of finding out. Sleep was hard on him that night, full of nightmares and demons he didn't feel he could defeat.

The next morning he was woken up by screeching. The woman appeared mad and half crazed.

“What do you MEAN the room is broken? HOW DARE YOU? The magics in this establishment hasn't failed in a hundred of years! And SUDDENLY because that WORM Zabini tells you it's NONFONCTIONING you believe him? How old are you? TWELVE? This is a work place miss Swanson! Not Hogwarts! NOW OPEN THE GOD DAMNED DOOR!”

Harry rushed around and gathered and hid everything he could as fast as he could hoping the room the woman was indicating was his. Hoping against hope he could make a run for it.

“But healer Zabini said....”

“I DON'T CARE! AND HE IS NOT A HEALER! He is a failure of a magical medical healing student! He failed once too many times to show proper intelligence and empathy! NOW OPEN IT! And if you don't young lady you will find yourself on the street beside that rat! AM I CLEAR?”

Clear she apparently was because a second later the door was wide open and Harry had to shut his eyes closed to protect them and allow them to get use to the brighter light of the corridor. The silence that met him was complete and he knew that the women were not expecting to see him. He was glad for the coat that was hiding the fact that the trouser were not zipped or that he had no shoes.

“What... sir... what are you... why are you...”

So they really were not expecting him. Time to make a hasty retreat and not allow them too much time to think.

“I came back two days ago because on my last stay I lost my wand. A friend made sure I would get private time by providing this room and I thought maybe I would find my wand here but got locked up instead. Care to show me to the exit?”

The young woman who had been scolded for not being professional and for not obeying orders was nowhere near able to form a sentence at that point. Her eyes kept moving from his forehead where he knew his scar was on show to his bulging stomach her mouth wide open and her eyes trying to pop out of her face. Miss Swanson really was not made to be a mediwitch, in time of stress and when something unexpected happened she seemed to lose herself and her pride in her work.

The older woman could not be so different even if she had tried her best to be. Nothing, he was sure, could make that woman lose her cool. Not even the lost hero of the wizarding world found heavily pregnant in a room that must have been closed for months. She took it in stride and came forward extending her hand to help him off the cot. She didn't stare, not at his forehead nor at his belly.

“My name is Helena Newcastle, I am the head of this hospital who appears to have degenerating standards if no one bothers to check the rooms daily like they did when I was a young healer here! Now Mr. Potter how long have you been locked in here so we can know if you are in need of emergency medical attention or not?”

It was now or never.

“Just got here yesterday. I am fine, I always carry snacks with me, well more like half a restaurant worth in food. I just need a shower that is too long to be healthy and my wand.”

She seemed to ponder on his words but must have decided he looked healthy enough to let the subject drop.

“If you had stopped by the security headquarters near the general entrance you would have already found your wand. Now when you'll decide on how to settle this little imprisonment problem you got yourself into feel free to owl me. There will be no flooing or apparating in you state. If we must meet again before you give birth I will be the one to come to you.”

Mrs. Newcastle turned to the mediwitch that still hadn't shook herself out of her fangirl meeting her idol state.

“Get. Back. To. Work!”

The head of St-Mungo had the presence of professor McGonagal and the essence of professor Snape. It made a scary combo when held against someone and Harry hoped he would never ever be that someone. The lady seemed to agree with him which was proven by her hasty departure.

“Don't worry she will not talk. The airhead knows better than to anger me. Now if you would please follow me this way, I'll show you to the security.”

No one else stared at him while the old healer was beside him. Efficient did not even begun to describe the woman. She got him is wand back in less then three minutes and manage to teach him what sort of transport he could and couldn't use, what type of glamour he should and shouldn't apply to himself all the while being irate and strict to everyone else. She even ordered him to get his baby checked at before telling him to hurry and not have her waste anymore time.

His wand in hand, he found the first empty public bathroom for women with many stalls, he cleaned and glamoured himself into a new alter ego he would call Lily Green and allowed himself to disappear in muggle London. He was long overdue for a checkup on his precious bundle.
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For Survival