Our Lives Are Not Our Own

Disclamers in Part 00

Part 02 - Getting Ready

"This is ridiculous," Harry thought an hour later. He had already bathed and cleaned himself according to the med-witches specifications. Now he just felt tired. This just wasn't going to work. He would hear Ginny downstairs packing her stuff and sobbing.

He knew it was something that was bound to happen. He had barely been home since he graduated five years ago, but the war had kept him busy. It wasn't like Ginny had been around much either. Having gone directly into Auror training and then being on the field. They had been considered the lucky ones because many of their missions coincided, Harry for the Order and Ginny for the Ministry.

It wasn't until the war ended six months earlier, with Harry once again single-handedly destroying the Dark Lord, that they had finally settled down into the home they were now in. At first everything was wonderful, even though they hadn’t married, they were living the happy married couple life. If Harry had had his way, they would have been married months ago, however, Ginny kept pushing the date back. That should have been his first clue that she wanted out of his life. He loved her though. This wasn't the way he wanted to lose her.

No, this was just wrong... he didn't even like men in 'that' way. He had never been attracted to the other guys while he had been in school. He'd admit (if only to himself) that he had wondered about it once or twice, but that was to be expected when Dean and Seamus were going at it like rabbits. However, it never interested him enough to try it. Why would he? He had Ginny. Or at least he used too...

Now he didn't have her any more and was being forced into having four relationships that he didn't even want to think about. The Minister wouldn't even tell him who the four fathers were going to be. Only that they would be four of the most powerful wizards of the time. Considering that Lucius Malfoy was the first choice, Harry was scared to find out who the rest were. He could only imagine who Minister Weasley would choose for the other three fathers, but he wouldn't actually find out who they were until the day of the conception. Each exactly one year after the one before.

Running a hand over his flat stomach, Harry tried to imagine what it was going to be like to be pregnant. Not that he would have long until he found out, there was only an hour left until he had to meet Malfoy at the Leaky Cauldron. He had refused to bring the other man into his home, seeing as he had to live there afterwards.

Malfoy hadn't changed much from when he met him as a child. Although he was a spy for the light, he was stil evi evil bastard. However Harry had to admit he was one of the most powerful wizards (after himself) of the time. Personally, he could only think of three or four other wizards who were more so, and he hoped the Minister liked him enough not to force him to be with any of those that came to mind.

"Stop standing around like a bloody idiot and get moving," Harry chastised himself. He had been standing in front of his closet for the last fifteen minutes just staring at the clothing. This wasn't getting him any where. He knew that Lucius was very particular about the people that he was seen with and felt that he had to live up to those standards. It wasn't that he didn't have nice clothing, it was just that he couldn't bring himself to put it on. He felt like he was dressing up for his own seduction... if seduction was what you could call it.

After standing there for another ten minutes just scowling at the clothing as if it had offended him in some way, he finally grabbed one of the fancier robes from the closet. It was the one that he had worn to the ministry when he got his Order of Merlin First Class for defeating Voldemort three months before; it had been too fancy to wear anywhere else. Perhaps it would be good enough to impress Lucius.

He honestly couldn't believe that he was trying to impress the other man. This was ridiculous. There was no reason that he should be getting dressed up for this. He would have to be out of his clothing at some point in the evening and he had no intentions of sticking around afterwards for some pillow talk. Goddess, even thinking about pillow talk with Lucius Malfoy scared him.

He was certain that this wasn't going to be a pleasant experience for him. Lucius had hated him ever since he was a child and there wathinthing to indicate that anything had changed. The ministry had not given him any rules to go by, other than the fact that he had to meet up with Malfoy by given time, and by the end of the night have conceived a child. And he was certain that those were the same rules that had been given to Malfoy.

Pulling the robe on, Harry proceeded to do up the tiny buttons that went from neck to waist before reaching into the closet again. This time pulling out a pair of Versace pants, its color matching that of the robe. After years of fighting in a war that never seemed to have an end, Harry no longer bothered putting under clothing. When you were going from battle to battle with only what you could carry on your back, he couldn't see the point in bring changes of underwear with him when that precious space could be used for rations. Once the war was over, he couldn't be bothered to change his habits. The world would have to accept him for who he was... or at least that was his reasoning. Pulling the pants on, he does up the little buttons and takes a look in the mirror.

The years of constant training and fighting had been good for him. He had finally sprouted up some since his childhood, now standing at a reasonable 5'8. He was still skinny, but was a healthy size instead of the malnourished state he had been in while living with the Dursleys. The years of quidditch before he left school had started to put on the muscle that he finished developing while fighting. He didn't consider himself handsome though, not with the scars that were on his body. There was a new one on his face, which went from just a centimeter from the corner of his right eye, down to his chin (that Ginny used to call devenare) and one that went from his waist all the way down to the middle of his left calf. The one on his leg hampered his walking a bit, but not enough for it to be a problem. It was a gift from Macnair while Harry had been a captive in one of the Death Eater camps. Macnair had said he wanted to remove Harry's thighbone with his bare hands. If it hadn't of been for the rescue team lead by Ginny, that arrived just after the cut had been made, he knew he really would have lost his leg to the bastard before being turned over to Voldemort. Macnair hadn't lived much longer; Harry took his life himself three weeks later.

Looking over at the clock that was on the wall, he sighed deeply. It was wavering between 'time to go' and 'you're late'. Moving quickly over to the table by the door, he picked up a vile and his wand (which were both tucked into his robe) and then he apperated away.