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Resistance	By : danniperson Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 44505 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 7
Disclaimer: I did not create the Harry Potter stories or universe and I do not make any money from this

Chapter List
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CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

Out of anxiety and embarrassment, the words came out quickly and loudly. Harry cast an apprehensive look around the infirmary but, luckily, no one seemed to have heard him. He felt really dumb asking, as though this was something very obvious that he should have known. If Hermione were awake, he would have gone straight to her but it felt too strange asking anyone else. Madam Pomfrey seemed like the next best choice, as well as the obvious one.

Ron's comment had gotten to him a bit. It had thrown him for a loop. Harry didn't want to ask the question in front of everyone and, really, he hadn't thought too much about it until later that night. Then, by morning, he pushed it aside, convincing himself that Ron was just messing around with him. Men couldn't get pregnant! Even if this was the Wizarding world. Right?

But Harry had been sick for days. The very thought of the food in the Great Hall was making him feel ill again. He was sexually active, the bottom in this strange relationship, and, Merlin, that was a scary thought. Just thinking about carrying a baby was horrible. But when he thought about the fact that he could be carrying Snape's baby…It was the most disturbing thing in the world!

Madam Pomfrey blinked in surprise. "Can m…Of course not, Mr. Potter!"

"Oh thank God," Harry sighed, dropping his head into his hands and laughing in relief.

"Contrary to popular belief, constant nausea is not strictly a pregnancy symptom. It could mean any number of things. You would not believe the number of girls I've had in here crying because they threw up once and were convinced they were with child," Madam Pomfrey ranted, shaking her head. "You're not even the first to ask me this question, Mr. Potter. Plenty of Muggle-borns face this confusion. Especially with those fairytales that go around."

"Fairytales?" Harry repeated as Pomfrey started running her scans.

"Yes. That's what they call them," she replied distastefully. "Awful rumors that more traditional wizards tell their children, warning them against the horrors of homosexuality. Everything from male pregnancy to gender transformations to the story that the act of anal penetration can kill you!"

Harry blushed when Pomfrey spoke of anal penetration. Pomfrey's eyes sharpened momentarily then softened as she reached out to pat his leg. "Nothing to be ashamed of, Mr. Potter. Contrary to popular belief, there is nothing immoral about preferring your own sex."

"I…I don't. Well…I don't really know. I don't think," Harry stammered.

She gave him a glare again. "Well you might figure it out before you engage in further sexual activity."

"How do you…I haven't…" Harry lied, blushing more.

"There's no use lying, Mr. Potter, and I don't advise doing so to your health advisor!" Pomfrey scolded. "It came up in my scan when I looked for sexually transmitted diseases."

"Sexually…what?" Harry gasped.

Pomfrey huffed and marched off, returning a few minutes later with a stack of pamphlets. "They really do need to teach sexual education at this school! I don't care what those prudish parents like to think. You must be educated!"

The blood drained out of his face as he looked down at the pamphlets. The mental image of Snape teaching sex ed attacked his mind. His cock began to stir at the thought of being taken over Snape's desk again and he quickly stuffed his hands between his legs then moving around to try to look more natural about the whole position. This was very bad. Why had he ever brought this up? This was humiliating! He should have known better than to think a guy could have a baby anyway! That was just dumb. Really fucking dumb. "So…erm…what is wrong with me?" Harry asked.

"I believe it is just a bad reaction to a combination of potions you're taking," she replied with a frown. "Have you been taking anything specific?"

"Umm…something for sleep and something for pain. Sometimes I take calming potions or energy…I think that's what they're called…potions."

"Which ones specifically?"

"Erm…"

Pomfrey tsked. "Take a look at them and bring me a list later this afternoon, Potter. That might be the problem. I can easily get you different potions that work more easily together without doing any harm to your body."

Maybe he should have guessed that it was like Muggle medicine where you had to watch what pills you took with what other ones. Potions were bound to be the same way. Only, he never really thought about it, had never really been warned against it. Harry barely knew the difference between the various potions he was taking compared to ones that did similar things. As asked, he'd have to figure out what, specifically, he had been given and bring the list to Pomfrey soon. Maybe it was the pain potion, he couldn't help but to think with a blush. He had only recently started taking that to take care of his sore backside and other muscles that ached from his shagging with Snape. Harry wasn't sure he'd bring that up just yet. "I will. Thanks."

Madam Pomfrey didn't seem very surprised when Hermione Granger had a visitor first thing in the morning. She did give Ron a glare, though, the moment he walked in, followed shortly by his pretty wife, Hannah. Ron ignored her and walked over to Hermione's bed, sitting by her side while sad blue eyes studied her still sleeping form. She had been sleeping for days. While Madam Pomfrey declared her to be in otherwise good health, Hermione hadn't yet woke despite Madam Pomfrey's hopes. While visiting yesterday morning after breakfast, Ron had overheard Dumbledore discussing the matters with McGonagall and Malfoy. They seemed to think the bond might be making her heal slower and badgered Draco, wondering if anything about their relationship was strained. Malfoy, of course, claimed he wasn't sure, that he thought everything was fine. Yeah right. Hermione had probably come to her senses, told him to bugger off, and the git had pushed her down the stairs! Nowadays he sat at the bedside of the girl he had hurt, moving onto his next victim, who just so happened to be Ron's sister, Ginny.

The ferret wasn't here today, though. Not yet. Ron was grateful. He had been hoping for some alone time with Hermione but Hannah had offered to come and Ron hadn't known how to get out of it without rising suspicion. His wife's eyes watched him as he watched Hermione, her usually friendly face more serious than it usually was, pretty pink lips turned into a most atypical frown. Hannah Weasley combed her fingers through her blond hair as she sat down beside Ron, watching him silently as he took Hermione's hand.

"You come here a lot, don't you?" Hannah asked quietly. "That's why we haven't seen each other much lately."

Ron turned a glare to his wife. "She's my friend, Hannah!"

"I know," Hanna whispered. "I know she is. I know this is upsetting. Only…"

"Only?" Ron asked in confusion.

Hannah sighed heavily, contemplating whether or not she should have brought it up. Ron hardly seemed to notice. It was as though he had forgotten that Hannah had spoken at all. She tried to be an understanding wife. Ron and Hermione had been friends for years before she had come along! They had dated for two years. She might even understand some of his old feelings for Hermione still lingering, though it somewhat bothered her. Especially if what she was concerned about was true. That Ron would try to be unfaithful to her and try to get Hermione back.

"It's just," Hannah went on to say after a few minutes, getting Ron's attention again. "It's just that…Are you still in love with her, Ron?"

Ron's face turned red, defensive anger flaring up in his blue eyes. "I'm married to you, aren't I?"

"That doesn't answer my question," Hannah remarked impatiently.

"How could you even think that? Just because I'm here…She's my friend, Hannah!"

"She's also the girl you dated for two years!"

"And I dumped her, remember?"

"Yeah, because Draco Malfoy is her soul mate! They're soul mates, Ron. They belong together. Just like we do. Okay?"

"No, it's not okay! Because you're accusing me…"

"I'm not accusing you, Ronald! I was just asking a bloody question! I suppose that's answered it."

"What's answered it?"

"You're defensive! Over nothing! So, obviously, you're still in love with her!"

"I am not!"

While Ron and Hannah set about bickering, neither noticed the subtle moving of Hermione's body. The way her arm moved into a more comfortable position while she twisted ever so slightly to one side. They were too caught up to hear her quiet moan or notice the way her eyes slowly opened. Hermione, for her part, hardly noticed them as she set about reacquainting herself with the world of the living. She felt so strange, so groggy, heavy, and nauseous. What had happened? Her mouth was dry, feeling as though she had been eating cotton and she smacked her lips with a cringe. It took a lot of energy to set about moving around, attempting to sit up in her bed.

Though neither Ron or Hannah had noticed Hermione yet, Madam Pomfrey did. The medi-witch had been checking on the limbs of the two Hufflepuffs with Vanishing Sickness, declaring them whole and good to go when she caught Hermione moving in her peripheral vision. Then, seconds later, realized the married couple beside her were arguing. Madam Pomfrey hurried over to the bed, eyes narrowed at them. "That's enough! Shoo! Be gone with you until you can learn how to properly behave! This is a place of recovery and I will not have you spoiling the health of my patients with your squabbling!"

"We're not doing anything!" Ron quickly said, blue eyes then taking notice to his ex girlfriend. "Hey, Mione! You're awake!"

"Of…" Hermione said, but she didn't have the energy to finish with 'course I am'.

"Out! Get out! And don't you come back unless you've broken something!" Madam Pomfrey ordered, waving them out.

"But…Hermione!" Ron said.

"She's alive and awake! You'll see her later, Ron. Come on," Hannah said, tugging on her husband's arm.

"But…Oh, alright," grumbled Ron, quickly ducking and running before he could be hit over the head.

Hannah watched him and shook her head. "I'm so sorry, Madam Pomfrey. And I'm sorry to you, too, Hermione."

"As you should be! Arguing right beside someone's sickbed! You're nearly as bad as that couple who thinks an infirmary is a mating ground!" Madam Pomfrey huffed in disgust. "Go along now."

"Yes, of course. Sorry!" Hannah said again with a weak smile, waving to them as she followed her husband out.

Madam Pomfrey began muttering under her breath as she gathered potions together. Hermione watched her for a moment, still trying to comprehend what was going on and where she was. What was the last thing she remembered? She had been walking down the corridor looking for one of the Gryffindor prefects. Romilda Vane was hardly an ideal prefect by Hermione's standards, especially since Romilda kept trying to hook up with one of the Ravenclaw prefects in the special bathroom. As Head Girl, Hermione wanted to promote good behavior, especially among prefects and those from her own House! Romilda had been an irritating snot all day and Hermione was actually looking forward to having a good reason to fuss at her. Then she had seen a few people coming her way. Slytherins, she had guessed. She thought she might have even seen a face, but…Really, it was all very fuzzy. Had they hexed her or something?

"Madam Pomfrey, what happened to me?" Hermione finally managed to ask, her voice hoarse and quiet.

"I'm afraid you took a nasty fall down the stairs," Madam Pomfrey replied with a frown. "We suspect you were pushed, though we haven't seen any evidence of who it might have been. I'm sure the headmaster will wish to speak with you about it once you're released."

"That would be pointless. I don't remember falling, let alone who pushed me," Hermione said, shaking her head.

"You don't even remember being around anyone?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

"I remember people approaching but I didn't recognize them," Hermione replied.

"Hmm. Well then… He'll want to speak with you anyway. He probably hopes he can help you remember," she replied.

"Goodness. How long have I been out?" she asked, glancing towards the windows. It was light out! It had been very late at night when she had been walking.

"A few days, dear," she said, patting Hermione's leg.

Hermione's eyes grew wide. "A few days?"

"Well, yes," Madam Pomfrey replied.

"How bad was it?" Hermione demanded, voice growing high-pitched. She had fallen down a staircase, she supposed. It had to be bad. She quickly looked down at herself for evidence of broken bones or anything else then remembered she had been here for days and that Madam Pomfrey would have fixed those by now.

"Not nearly as bad as it could have been," the matron replied. "Though I did expect you to rouse at some point during the first day."

"Then why didn't I?" Hermione asked, trying her hardest to sound calm.

"The headmaster believes it has something to do with your bond," she replied. "As well as…"

"As well as what?" Hermione asked, stomach dropping.

"As well as the fact that you're…Well, Miss Granger, you're pregnant," Madam Pomfrey whispered.

"I'm what?" Hermione shrieked. "I can't be pregnant!"

"What?"

Hearing Draco Malfoy's voice, Hermione thought her heart had stopped. Her eyes grew impossibly wide when she saw Draco and Ginny standing just behind Madam Pomfrey, both looking very pale. "I'm going to be sick," Hermione mumbled faintly. Madam Pomfrey immediately grabbed a bucket and held it over to her. Hermione leaned her head over it and leaned it against the edges of the cool metal. Her stomach was twisting horribly and bile had risen in her throat. She would probably feel better if she did vomit but it didn't seem like anything was coming out anytime soon. This was at least a good reason to keep her face hidden from view.

"Really, my patient's health care is none of your concern," Madam Pomfrey barked.

"It's…He's the father, M…Yeah," Hermione muttered. She tried saying it was okay, as well as saying the matron's name, but half of her words were lost. At least the important fact was there.

"Well, I see," Madam Pomfrey said, eying Draco and Ginny critically. The pair blushed then Ginny stepped away from Draco who walked around to the other side of the bed.

"When you fell, there was a great chance of a miscarriage," Madam Pomfrey said. "However, Professor Dumbledore believes one of two things happened. Either your child is very lucky to have survived the trip while your bond was struggling, which would be why it took you so long to wake. Or your bond is strong and is the reason the baby is safe, though the magic needed to protect the baby drained you too much. That's another thing the headmaster will want to speak with you about I believe. To see which it was."

"Of course," Hermione mumbled.

"Do you need anything, dear?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

"A time turner."

"Tsk. I'm afraid we can't go around changing the past so you'll have to do with taking your potions," Madam Pomfrey replied. "I will give you a small supply of these. Two drops of each daily, for the duration of your pregnancy. This will be your last dose of the pain potion because you seem to be doing much better. The others are useless now that you're awake. Just two drops of those then a sip of this. I want you to stay here the rest of the day so that I can keep an eye on things."

"I…Yes, of course," Hermione said weakly. Normally she would protest, especially having missed so many classes. Right now, though, she had more important things to worry about.

"Pregnant. You're pregnant," Draco said, slightly dazed.

"It would seem so," Hermione said.

"Oh Merlin," Ginny muttered, sinking down into a chair.

"What are you so upset about?" Hermione snapped. "You're not the one having a baby!"

"It's surprising, Hermione! Especially that you…" Ginny said defensively.

"Especially that it's me?" Hermione snapped. "What? I might not be as pretty as you, Ginny, but I…"

"That has nothing to do with it! I just thought you were smarter than that, is all," Ginny barked. "What is with you? Surely, pregnancy hormones don't kick in this early? You're not even showing yet!"

"I…Oh, I'm sorry, Ginny. I'm just…Oh God. I'm pregnant?" Hermione said, hands grasping at her flat stomach. The bucket she abandoned rolled off the bed and clattered to the floor.

"That's what Madam Pomfrey said," Ginny said softly. Her bright brown eyes continued to move to Draco who was determinedly not looking at either of them. Hermione noticed this and frowned as she, too, glanced at Draco.

Something was going on there. Hermione had noticed them growing closer before her fall. Maybe they had been growing closer since, she thought bitterly. And now she was pregnant with his child! They weren't even dating, had only had sex once and he was clearly more interested in her best friend! Hermione blinked rapidly against the tears that threatened to well up in her eyes. This was too much! She was only seventeen. Hermione wasn't even sure she wanted children. The only plans she had involved passing school with flying colors, fighting in this war, and finding a respectable job where she could do some good in the world. Husbands and children, unlike most of her female classmates, had never factored into the equation.

It seemed she was going to have to work a baby into her plans now. She could never have an abortion. There was always adoption, but…

Oh, bugger.

Hermione really did not want to think about this right now. With her mind, though, thoughts whirled around chaotically, already searching for the proper solution. She groaned and leaned back into bed, crossing her arms over her face. "I think you should both leave now. I'm…I'm very tired."

"She's pregnant," Draco whispered, still staring into space.

"Yes, she is," Ginny hissed. Hermione then felt Ginny pat her arm. "I'll come to see you later, okay?"

"Maybe it's best if you didn't. I…I'm just not feeling very well," Hermione said, voice cracking.

"Bu…Oh…Well, okay. I'll just…I'll see you later then. Come on Draco."

Hermione's heart thudded in her chest as she felt them move away. She dared herself to peek when it seemed they had moved far enough away. Draco and Ginny walked very close together, hands hanging by their sides, bumping into each other as though secretly hoping the other would take their hand. Her throat closed up, tears stinging her eyes, heart aching as she watched them disappear. Then she rolled over onto her side, burying her face in her pillow. What an awful situation to find herself in!

Seconds later, the curtains around her bed were slowly drawing closed and Hermione glanced up to see Madam Pomfrey closing them with her wand, wearing a sympathetic look. Hermione smiled weakly in thanks then curled back up in bed, trying her darnedest not to cry herself to sleep.

While Hermione laid in the infirmary, trying to deal with the newest issue in her life, her favorite haunt was being occupied by Neville Longbottom. He sat at Hermione's favorite table near her favorite chair, he didn't quite have the heart to sit in it himself, with a stack of books he intended to bring to the infirmary later. They were some of the few Madam Pince would allow out of the library and she was especially accommodating to those who said they were bringing them to read to Hermione until she woke up. He was no longer looking for books though and, instead, had his completed Herbology work beside the letter he was working on. That way, if Madam Pince decided to be nosy, or anyone else for that matter, he could quickly cover the letter and claim to be working on his essay.

The library was the ideal place for letter-writing, Neville found. At least this letter. He had tried working on this very one several times yesterday outside under his favorite tree or by the lake. The outdoors was a favorite hangout of many, however, and too many people walked by for his liking. At least in the library it was quiet, not that many people liked to be here, and those who were happened too busy with their homework to pay attention to anyone else.

Dear Cedric,

That was all he really had written so far. Below it were many other lines that were crossed out. Once he got a good start, he would rewrite it all on a fresh sheet. He needed to be smooth about this, word it in a way that wouldn't be embarrassing. How was Neville supposed to bear looking Cedric in the face again if he screwed this up? Cedric was such a sweet person though. He would never be mean about it. But that wouldn't make Neville feel any less humiliated if this didn't go right. He had to ask Cedric out in an ambiguous sort of way so that if he didn't see him that way, it could just seem like he wanted to hang out. But if Cedric did want it to be more, he could see it that way as well. It wasn't as if Neville had much experience in this area. He had never really admitted to anyone that he was gay so he hadn't necessarily dated at all. Pathetic being as he was seventeen. His lack of experience was only doing him harm now. He should have at least practiced! That way, when he really wanted someone the way he liked Cedric right now, he could go about it somewhat confidently.

So we should probably work on the bond…

Do you have plans for the weekend of October 5th? You see…

How is work? If you ever needed a break…

All of my friends have dates for the first Hogsmeade weekend, so I won't have anyone to hang out with, so if you wouldn't mind…

All the lines were crossed out, leaving Neville feeling more and more foolish. How hard was this supposed to be? Neville chewed nervously on the nip of the quill, staring down at the rather intimidating parchment. This was useless. What was he even thinking? He and Cedric would have to meet up at some point to work on their bond. Dumbledore was making everyone else do it! They could spend time together then. If things ever went well then Neville could try asking Cedric out. If not, then he would know not to. Right?

Taking a deep breath, Neville dipped his quill in the ink and set about writing again. His face burned as he wrote I really like you. Will you go to Hogsmeade with me? He knew as soon as he thought the words that he could never send such a letter but it did feel good to actually have written them down. He set about scratching the words out when he heard a chuckle directly behind him. Neville gasped, all of the color draining from his face as he realized that someone was standing directly behind him, reading over his shoulder.

"Have a little crush, do we, Longbottom?" asked Blaise Zabini. "I know he has a pretty face but you know Diggory's a wizard, don't you?"

"Of course I know that!" Neville muttered, hurriedly shoving his Herbology homework over the letter, though it was useless. Blaise had already seen.

"Oh ho ho! Have something to share with us, then?" Blaise asked, pulling up a nearby chair and sitting down. "Don't tell me you secretly steal your grandmother's dresses and play dress up. Do you feel like a pretty girl?"

"I'm not a girl!" Neville snapped heatedly, though his voice cracked and didn't come off quite as confidently as he had hoped.

"Not much difference, though, is there? Between a girl and a fairy," Blaise spat.

"Don't call me that," Neville mumbled.

"What was that? I can't hear you."

"Don't call me that."

"What else would you call a little boy who likes cock?"

Neville cringed at the dirty word, heat creeping into his cheeks. "Don't say that, either."

"Come now, Neville. How do you expect to take cock if you can't even say the word?"

"Merlin's balls, Blaise, leave him alone!"

Neville turned to his savior in surprise. Daphne Greengrass stood nearby, staring at them in shock and disgust.

"He's the one writing love letters to that Diggory boy," Blaise said smoothly.

"You're just angry because Ginevra Weasley likes Draco more than you!" Daphne snapped. Blaise glared at her warningly. "Now you're taking it out on Longbottom because he's the easiest target. No offense, Longbottom."

"Not at all," Neville said gratefully.

"You seem to have your loyalties all messed up, Daphne," Blaise remarked coolly.

"No, I don't. I love you, Blaise, but you can't just pick on someone because you're mad. If you're mad at Draco, go take it out on him!"

"I can't! He's probably too busy snogging Ginny!" Blaise growled. "Look, this isn't even about him. This is what we do!"

"It's what we used to do when we were young and stupid," Daphne snapped. "I personally thought we were growing up."

"The only thing we were doing was trying to get into Gryffindor beds," Blaise said darkly, standing up. "But I'm tired of that game. I'm a Slytherin."

"Don't even say that," Daphne hissed. "I, for one, don't want the word Slytherin to be a synonym for arrogant, ruthless tormentor! I'm proud of my house and I would prefer it be known for its better qualities. Not for pigs like you and Theodore Nott."

"Don't even compare me to that prat!"

"Don't act like that prat!" Daphne snapped. "Come on, Longbottom. Take a walk with me?"

"Umm," said Neville, glancing uneasily at Blaise. He didn't know Daphne all that well and would have preferred staying in the library. He figured Blaise would be too stubborn to be the one to leave though and Daphne had stuck up for him. "Alright."

Blaise just glared at them while Neville put away his things and Daphne waited patiently by the table, arms crossed over her chest. When Neville stood up, Daphne linked her arm through his, stalking off, half dragging Neville behind her. She was muttering things under her breath like "can't believe that prick!" and "going to hurt him so bad!" Once in the corridor, Neville pulled on her arm to slow her down. Daphne obediently halted, letting Neville catch up and pull her along in a slow walk.

"He should apologize to you," Daphne said irritably. "He's just upset because he likes someone…"

"Ginny?" Neville said.

"Yeah," Daphne sighed. "I don't get it. No offense to her or anything but they pretty much hated her family until recently. Now they're both in love with her or something! I'm sure Blaise really likes her. He's…actually hurt. I don't think he's ever liked a girl before. That's still no excuse for his behavior! I mean, if he were going to be an arse to someone you'd think he'd act that way towards one of them. Right?"

"No offense to you but I'm sort of used to being bullied by Slytherins," Neville said.

Daphne frowned. "Yes, I know. Isn't this whole house rivalry stupid?" She shook her head. "I've never bought into it myself, but Pansy…Well she had us all in her nasty claws and I've done some awful things. But I have Charles now and…Well, I could care about him. Even if he is a Gryffindor and a blood traitor, you know? And if Blaise can have feelings for Ginevra and if Draco can have feelings for Hermione, then why is it even such a big deal anyway?"

"I've always wondered that myself," Neville confessed.

She smiled softly. "Right. Well, did you want help with your letter?"

Neville blushed. "No, it was a stupid idea anyway."

"Well, if you're sure," Daphne said. "You can just walk to me to the front door if you'd like. I don't really expect you to hang around me all afternoon. I only thought it might be a good way to get you from Blaise."

"Thanks," said Neville. "We can always go around the lake, though. I mean, if you're serious about the whole House rivalry thing it might help if we hung out a bit."

"True," Daphne said, linking her arm through his again. "Besides, you're actually not half bad for a Longbottom."

Neville laughed. "You're not so bad yourself. You know, for a Greengrass."

Meanwhile, back in the library, Blaise glared after them then stood up from the table. Now what was he supposed to do? He had hoped to have at least ten minutes worth of picking on Longbottom before the boy ran off crying. Out of frustration, Blaise kicked a leg of the table, earning him a cough and a glare from Madam Pince. Blaise saluted sarcastically then spun around and marched to the back of the library. This had all started when Draco and Ginny had walked into the library together holding hands. They looked like they were trying to make it seem like a friendly gesture but Blaise knew better. He wasn't blind.

Maybe Daphne was right. Maybe he should be taking it out on them!

There they were. Draco was sitting on the floor with his back pressed against the wall, face buried in his hands, breathing deeply. Ginny was kneeling beside him, whispering comfortingly. What on earth had happened to Draco? Curiosity and concern were almost enough to distract him from his annoyance. But not enough. Not with the beautiful Ginny Weasley sitting there with her hand on his knee. Blaise's throat felt dry and tight so he swallowed hard as he glared at them. Seeming to sense someone nearby, Ginny glanced up and smiled weakly at him. "Hello, Blaise."

Draco seemed to stiffen at the sound of his name so Blaise grinned nastily. He felt sick to his stomach. Despite what he wanted, he didn't quite have it in him to be an arse here and now. It didn't matter that his best friend was upset about something or that he was angry at said best friend. Blaise was too proud to let himself fall apart here. He was not going to let a Malfoy get the better of him! Blaise turned back around instead and walked off.

"Blaise!" Ginny called out after him.

"Shhhh!" Madam Pince hissed from her desk.

Blaise didn't stop.

"Sorry I went and got detention tonight."

"Oh, that's fine! Everyone knows how much Snape hates you. No offense or anything."

Harry laughed as he and Astoria turned down the last staircase. Snape had given him detention tonight to work more on their bond and he was secretly excited about the prospect of sex, though just as nervous about it. Sex was good but, at the same time, he was embarrassed about having it with Snape. He still felt dirty and ashamed of himself from the last time! Tonight, though, he especially felt bad since he was supposed to be tutoring Astoria. She didn't seem completely put off though and offered to walk him to detention. Her common room was in the dungeon after all. They could always reschedule for the following day, Astoria had assured him.

"None taken," he said.

"So what did you do to earn yourself a detention?" Astoria asked.

"Breathing," Harry snorted, rolling his eyes. "Though he claims I was purposefully chopping the Valerian roots wrong to intentionally ruin my potion. Said he was saving the class from me blowing them up."

"Right," giggled Astoria, batting her eyelashes at him. Then she purred, "What a bad boy you are."

Harry blushed and coughed leaving Astoria to giggle. "Yes, well, what can I say? Just can't help myself. Have to show those ingredients who's boss."

"Tough, strong, dashingly handsome! No wonder you're so popular," Astoria said. "At least I know if I'm ever attacked by porcupine quills you'll be there to save the day."

"Oh, indeed. I'll crush them instead of slice them you know," Harry laughed.

"How charming," said a cold voice from nearby.

Harry and Astoria stopped, glancing to a nearby door in surprise. Snape stepped out of one of the unused classrooms with his arms crossed over his chest while Vector and Babbling stepped out with their arms full of scrolls and books, whispering to one another as they hurried away. Snape glared at them, eyes never leaving the pair as he closed and locked the door behind him. "You may leave, Miss Greengrass. I didn't give you detention."

"Oh, well, I was just walking…"

"He's here now. I have him. He hardly needs a chaperone. Go."

"Oh…Yes, sir," Astoria said meekly. She gave Harry's arm a squeeze before walking off. Harry blinked at Snape while the man continued to glower at him a moment then jerked his head in the direction of his office before stalking towards it. Harry took a deep breath to brace himself then followed.

Snape started in on him the moment he closed the door behind him, putting up the locking and silencing charms. "You seem to be confused these days."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"About your sexuality."

Harry blushed, but didn't look away when Snape gave him a calculating look. It was true actually. He liked what he did with Snape but was he attracted to men? Was he attracted to women even? He had never really had to think about it before now. Still, he didn't like that anyone would know about it. "What do you mean?"

"You've been flirting with Miss Greengrass," Snape spat, the word coming out like he was spitting venom. "Ladies man during the day and my whore by night. What a life you live, Mr. Potter."

Harry's eyes flashed angrily, fingers curling into fists at his side. His heart and his head began to pound, body growing warm as Snape's words pierced through him. Had it not been so true, he might have felt better. But wasn't that how he had been feeling since the last time? As if he were Snape's little toy?

"I am not your whore, Snape," Harry snapped.

"Hmm. You may be right about that. Whores are paid, aren't they? Prostitution is their duty, isn't it? A job. Responsibility," Snape said. "No, you're my slut, aren't you? The way you writhe beneath my touch. Beg me to fuck you. Spreading your legs wider for me. Moaning for me. Yes, you're right. Slut is a more accurate term."

"I am not your slut!" Harry shouted. "It's just…We…For the bond…"

"Yes, blame the bond," Snape said, a malicious gleam in his dark eyes. "But the bond wasn't forcing us to do anything, Mr. Potter. You wanted me."

"How could anyone want you?" Harry snarled. "You're an ugly, greasy…"

"Git," Snape supplied, eyebrow arched before Harry could say the word. "I am well aware of my appearance. The fact that you respond so well to me looking as horrendous as I do must be all the more mortifying, isn't it?" As he said this, he reached out to grab Harry's crotch, rubbing it just so to make Harry grasp his arms, hips bucking up into that skillful hand. His cock, which had been soft only seconds ago, was now growing under Snape's urging. Merlin that hand felt so good! He just wanted to yank his trousers down so that he could feel that nice, cool hand on his heated flesh.

"St…Stop," Harry gritted out, pushing Snape away from him.

Snape wasn't taking no for an answer. He advanced on Harry, backing him into his desk and leaning in close. "But we haven't finished yet, Mr. Potter," he whispered, swiftly unbuttoning Harry's trousers, his hand sneaking inside before he could protest. When Harry reached out to pull him away, he could only clutch at Snape again as that hand met his erection, fingers wrapping around the now fully hard shaft, stroking up and down slowly, teasingly. Harry moaned loudly then Snape took his mouth in a demanding kiss that left him breathless. All Harry could do was cling helplessly at Snape's robes, feeling himself turning into a puddle under that proficient touch. He whimpered as Snape's tongue traced his lips, eagerly parting his lips to allow it inside. He kissed back as well as he could, considering how much he was moaning as Snape gripped him tighter, stroking him faster. The potions master nipped at his tongue and his lips before moving his mouth along Harry's jaw and to his neck. Harry bit his lip as Snape began to suck at his pulse point, all rational thought fading away. He felt too confined in his clothes, wanted nothing more than to rip them away and spread himself as wide as possible for Snape on his desk or on the floor or anywhere Snape would take him.

As if he could read Harry's thoughts, Snape chuckled and trailed his tongue along the contour of Harry's ear. "So wanton…exquisitely shameless, my little slut."

The words froze Harry. It felt like something very big and nasty had dropped into his stomach. Snape never stopped the movement of his hands. Harry still moaned because it still felt good. But he had his mind back, and the more Snape touched him and the more he liked it, the more horrified he became. "Stop it!" Harry growled. He reached down to grip Snape's wrist, somewhat regretfully pulling him away and shoving him. "Stop."

Snape moved closer once more, but Harry fumbled with his robes and grabbed his wand, nonverbally summoning the band from Gryffindor Tower. As he did so, he scooted around the desk, eyes trained on Snape. Whenever Snape moved forward too fast, Harry would jump away.

"Come now, Harry. We have to appease the bond, you know," Snape said with a wicked smirk.

"If you want to appease the bond then you can bend over, you sick pervert!" Harry snapped.

Snape snorted. "Hardly, Mr. Potter."

"Well, you're going to have to," Harry snarled. "I'm not your whore. You want this to work so much then you can take it up the arse. Because until you do, I won't."

The nasty gleam in Snape's eyes grew cold, that smirk fading away. Harry felt distantly triumphant. "I do not take it, Mr. Potter. Certainly not from prepubescent boys."

"Well, that's the deal," Harry said firmly. His cock twitched, begging him to give in so that he might have Snape's touch. He was lucky the band zoomed in when it did. He could already feel the bond working, making him more desperate. Harry gladly slipped the band on over his wrist. It didn't help his horniness in the slightest, but it at least meant he wouldn't jump Snape as easily. "I won't let you fuck me if you can't extend the same courtesy. I'm not your toy, Snape. We're soul mates. We're equals."

"We are not equals, Potter," Snape growled. "Do you remember what it was like when we were ignoring the bond? Hmm?"

"Do you?" Harry retorted. "I don't want to lose control of my magic but neither do you. I will not let you use me like that, though. Not even for this bond! I respect myself more than that and I won't give you anything until you can respect me, too."

"You haven't earned any respect, you ungrateful brat!"

"Neither have you but you still expect people to call you 'sir'," Harry pointed out.

"Ten points from Gryffindor."

"Must be getting very irritated now that you're not getting laid," Harry taunted.

"You're willing to just let the bond fail because of your own selfish needs?" Snape spat.

"Aren't you?" Harry shot back. "I'm not going to let you win this, Snape. Besides, there are other alternatives to getting the bond to work. Just try to play nice and we don't even need the sex."

"As if you could," Snape replied coldly.

"I'd be willing to try. It sure beats having to shag your nasty, smelly, ugly, mean self."

"Maybe you can work on your time not getting fucked working on better insults," Snape retorted.

Harry shrugged. "Guess I'll go do that now." With that, he turned towards the door.

"I don't think so, Mr. Potter," Snape said. Glancing over his shoulder, Harry saw that the potions master was smirking again. "You still have a detention to serve."

Harry glared at him. "The only point in that was to work on the bond."

"But it's still a detention," Snape reminded him.

"For cutting up roots wrong? Ron and Neville were doing worse on their potions than I was!" Harry snapped.

"Undoubtedly, but they have the excuse of being brainless. You simply do not care because you are so arrogant you believe you don't need to learn the art of Potions. You believe you'll have the w…"

"Whole world handed to you on a silver platter," Harry joined him in saying. The two glared at each other. "I am not arrogant, Snape. It's not my fault you're rubbish at teaching."

"Twenty points from Gryffindor. And another detention, I think," Snape sneered.

Harry's jaw and fists clenched as he glowered at his professor. Snape was being a real prat but since when was that news? He was especially frustrated because of this bond and could do with a good wank right about now! How was he supposed to get through detention in his state? The bond was going to drive them both mad! He wasn't even sure if the band would be enough to stop him. The band could easily be removed if he got desperate enough. Already, he was itching to yank it off and toss it across the room. The way Snape's eyes traveled down to his wrist, Harry figured that was what the man was counting on.

Too bad for Snape Harry was determined to see this out. He had never been on top before. Didn't he deserve a chance? Harry wasn't just going to lay there and take it without a fight! It wasn't fair that the sex left him feeling so rotten then to have Snape rub it all in his face. He wasn't a masochist and he had enough people treating him like dirt in his life. How pathetic did you have to be to spread your legs to someone while they were insulting you like that?

Could he keep it up for long? Probably not. Harry wasn't sure he was very willing to actually let the bond suffer. It was too risky. But he would hold off as long as he possibly could. He needed Snape to give in. It was important that the relationship they have be as equal and respectful as possible, even if they did hate each other.

Head held high, Harry sat in front of Snape's desk. He watched the man expectantly, doing his best not to let any of his arousal or nervousness show. Snape just watched him for a very long moment before going behind his desk and instructing Harry to write lines.

It was going to be a very long night.

Author's Note: Biggest thing is don't think what was said in this chapter means I've let those anti-mpreg people get to me! This story is an mpreg, and this chapter has been planned exactly as is for weeks now. As to the mpreg thing and what was mentioned in this chapter…You'll have to see! Cause I ain't sayin' nuffin!

Thanks to my reviewers! I'd put your names and messages like I usually do but my browser's being an asshole so I can't really have up more than one tab :( I'll do it in the next chapter though! I sitll love you guys! <3

And big thank you to my amazing beta who is more than just a spellchecker and who took the time to help me figure out stuff for my story! She's the best <3 Just so everyone knows. And they can be jealous that I have such an awesome beta ;) hahaha.
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Resistance