Who's My Daddy?-Chp8

CHAPTER 8: LOST YET UNFORTUNATELY FOUND

Harry was walking weakly through a lonely alley, holding his son in one hand and dragging his broom with the other. After hearing from Winnie Dumbledore the midwife saying that people from Hogwarts were coming to visit him, he panicked. He wasn’t ready to face them. He had been missing in action away from the eyes of those familiar to him and he sure wasn’t too keen on getting reacquainted with them. Not just yet. He was grateful that after escaping through the window of his ward, he was able to find some place alone to walk down and figure where he should disappear next.

It’s not that he didn’t want to see whoever was going to visit him. He had been yearning to see at least someone he knew after being gone for so long from the wizarding world. Taking care of himself during the pregnancy wasn’t easy, especially when he can’t go back to the Muggle world to the only family he had who wouldn’t even bother to give a damn about him. They never even bothered to suggest to him coming back when he decided to not go back after Sirius’ death. They replied Headmaster Dumbledore’s letter of persuasion to take him back with these exact words: You can keep him if you want. He’s of no use to us but a burden. No one can love a pebble in their shoe. Good riddance to bad rubbish! Harry didn’t mind—didn’t care, even—that the Dursleys didn’t want him around anymore in their home. Not that they’ll be any help even if they knew about Sirius’ death or his pregnancy. It would mean a great deal if he’s actually being visited by people who actually cared about him and would accept him regardless of what he had become or what he had been through.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t face them. Most probably because of guilt, he guessed. He hadn’t been the best role model and the best friend to those who cared and looked up to him after Sirius’ death and his long talk with Headmaster Dumbledore about his prophesied destiny. He should’ve been grateful for Dumbledore to issue him full immunity so as not to be burdened by other problems of his doing, but he misused that immunity to do things that tainted his bitter reputation even more. He knew he had done things that could easily expel him with just one letter and a break of a wand, but knowing that immunity made him untouchable bloated up his confidence and gave him even more courage to do worse things. He knew that many people and almost the entire staff of Hogwarts knew about his late night escapades and maybe his ‘part-time job’, but they were forced to ignore him and he was freer to do his bidding without any interference.

Honestly speaking, he never thought of wanting to indulge in this selling sex job in the first place. It was when he had his first sex with a senior that gave him the idea. The senior from Hufflepuff was leaving Hogwarts the next day and he wanted to have the best memory taken home, and since he had always had this small crush on the Boy Who Lived, he suggested during his graduation night that he wanted his best memory to be having a one night stand with Harry. Harry didn’t think the idea was too good at first, but all reason was thrown out of the window immediately as the Hufflepuff senior began tickling his sensitive navel. The senior, who was also a Prefect, took him to the Prefect’s bathroom and rammed him onto the wall, eager to get it on with him. It was painful for his first time, but also the most pleasurable. As soon as they were done and the senior led Harry back to Gryffindor dorm, Harry began to realize that sex was the best thing next to drugs to forget about his problems, and that it was much better than getting the satisfaction out of his act of rebelliousness. Hence, the prostitution. Not only he gets high with orgasm, he earns a little extra quick cash at the same time.

He stole a look at Cookie sleeping peacefully in his arms. His vision blurred, his eyes filled with tears. He was devastated when he found out he was pregnant. During the last few weeks of his seventh year, he began to have bouts of nausea and he had to go to the bathroom to puke every ten minutes. Due to his immunity, no one questioned his lack of showing up in class, not even Prof. Snape. He lay on bed feeling like the whole world was bobbing up and down like a boat giving him seasickness and it was a miracle for him to even able to stay focus in the exams without having to plunge his head through the toilet bowl the next second. He didn’t want to go to Madame Pomfrey for help for fear of letting Hogwarts know what was wrong with him before he did. He went off on another late night escapade, not on another ‘service’, but to a mediwizard famous for his secretive reputation. He blindfolded himself before entering his quarters and let the mediwizard checked him. The horrifying verdict was made: He was pregnant, and that someone had hexed his genitals—making him a temporary hermaphrodite—to allow him to become pregnant. Abortion was out of the question because whoever hexed him also created a counter for any drugs or spells to allow abortion to work, like some kind of force field.

Harry knew he had to leave. He knew he had to avoid meeting up with anyone he knew to avoid questions. He knew that whatever happened to him would not be taken lightly both by the Ministry of Magic and the public. People would be questioning him, asking him how he got this child and finding out what he had been secretly doing every late night of his last 3 years in Hogwarts. They would look down at him and disapprove of him, worse, even disown him from the wizarding world. He didn’t want that. He had been disowned by his own Muggle family. He didn’t want to be disowned by the people he felt belonged to. So, during graduation night, after wishing Ron good luck on his proposal to Hermione and slipping him the 1917 Burgundy, he gathered all his things and flew off. He found himself a nice little cottage which was abandoned for many years and stayed there throughout his pregnancy, living off with the money he had saved servicing people and some from Gringotts. At first, he cast a growth-stopping spell to stop the growth of the baby and, with the little knowledge he had on Potions, tried to create his own abortion potions to see if any of them would work on getting rid of the child. But nothing seemed to work. In fact, as soon as he swallowed the potion, something inside his body forced him to puke it out, no matter how hard he tried to keep it down. The growth-stopping spell immediately lost effect as soon as he puked out the potion, and Harry cursed everyday at the child within him for being such a pain in the ass. He tried physical ways to abort the baby but there was always an invisible force that stopped him in his tracks.

As his belly grew, so was his hate towards the child within it. He couldn’t blame the father of the child because he didn’t know to whom it belonged to, so he took it out all on the baby. He kept scolding and complaining, saying that he wished the baby was dead or that it was practically sucking off the energy from him or that it’s making him look fat, anything to make himself feel better. When the baby kicked or moved in him, he would frown and scold the baby, telling it that if it did that one more time, he was going to purposely fall down and kill him. Even when he had cravings for the outrageous things, he put the blame all on the child. The only one time he truly felt love for the child in him was when he accidentally cut his thigh when he dropped the scissors while cutting some Spell-O-Tape for his poster of a Muggle singer. He only noticed the blood when he was getting ready for shower and all of a sudden he was horrified and worried for the baby’s life, thinking he was bleeding because of a miscarriage. Only when he saw where the blood was really coming from and when he felt the baby’s reassuring kick, he realized his mistake. In fact, he was so relieved that he burst into tears and hugged his belly in relief, crying as he rocked to and fro, saying “My baby…My baby, I love you…” over and over again.

When it was time for him to give birth, he had planned to look for the mediwizard that checked him. But somehow, the mediwizard was out of town and he couldn’t think of anyone else to help him deliver the baby. He tried to deliver it himself but after an hour of excruciating pain, he knew he needed professional help. So he had no choice but to go to the ever familiar St. Mungo. His broom could barely support his weight and was flying slower than usual, but he got there eventually. The first person to help him was, of course, Winnie Dumbledore and the doctor in charge for that shift. She practically yelled the whole hospital down for assistance and she was there throughout the whole painful ordeal of childbirth. Surprisingly, it was after the pain that made Harry realized how he truly loved his son. He felt sorry for everything he had said to him in the past and guilty for the hard feelings he had for him throughout his pregnancy. All he felt for little Cookie now was an unending love and a vow to devote his life to him.

Suddenly he felt wet and sore between his legs. He looked down and was horrified to see blood seeping through his pants and trickling down on the floor he walked. He was even horrified that the blood didn’t start there; there was a long trail behind him when he started walking down this alley. He had lost so much blood that he felt dizzy and his legs wobbly. Harry quickly searched for a dark corner to hide and sit. He shouldn’t have moved. Winnie had warned him about his hexed anatomy. She had told him that his female parts had not fully recovered and disappeared and a slight strain would cause it to be traumatized and bleed. It might even make his hermaphrodite state permanent and wouldn’t go away. He should’ve listened to Winnie. He should’ve stayed in bed. He shouldn’t have been so eager to leave. But all regret was too late.

Just when he thought he was going to lose consciousness, someone approached him. The stranger had a hood over his head, so he couldn’t see his face. But as soon as he spoke, he recognized him immediately.

“Well now, Harry Potter. Fancy seeing you here.”

“You…!”

“Come now,” the stranger said as he took his wrist. “We must get you to some place comfortable. You wouldn’t want the baby to freeze in this cold weather now, would you?”

“Let go of me…!” Harry hissed but he was carried almost immediately into the stranger’s arms.
“Now, now, Harry. Be careful of the baby. Don’t drop him,” the stranger grinned as he apparated all of them into a candle-lit room. There was a four-post bed at the far end of the room and a few more hooded men were waiting at either side of it. The stranger brought the struggling Harry towards the bed and lay him there, but not before forcefully taking Cookie out of his arms. The other hooded men got the cue and took each of Harry’s wrists, fastening them with chains that were attached to the bed posts. Harry watched in horror as the stranger stroke Cookie’s chin.

“Let me go! Don’t you dare touch my son! You let Cookie go! You leave him alone! Give him back to me!”

“Cookie?” the stranger grinned mockingly. “What an inappropriate name for someone as fine as him. I’d prefer something more high-classed than this.”

“My choice of name for my son is none of your damn business! Give me back my son!”

“What? Like Alberto Alexi Zephyr Janphen Caninus Generus Potter? Please! I know you can do better than that. That’s too much of a mouthful even for you. Do you even realize why those names suddenly popped out of your head for no reason?”

Harry glared at him challengingly. In truth, he didn’t know why he suddenly decided to give his son such a long name, but he refused to admit it. He wanted to see what smart-ass answers the stranger could give him.

“Hmm, how should I put it? Oh, yes, they were all the middle names of the ideal people I chose of traits to put into this child, of course, my middle name is not Generus. My middle name does not mean ‘stranger’ either. Honestly, Potter boy, I doubt much of your ‘motherly’ intuition in choosing names.”

“You sure look mighty strange to me,” Harry muttered, earning a slap from one of the hooded men.
“Please, gentlemen, be gentle,” the stranger said. “After all, he did just give birth to my son.”

“Your son? What do you mean ‘your son’? He’s my son!”

“Correction, Harry. He’s our son. You wouldn’t think I would let Ronald Alberto Weasley, Severus Alexi Snape, Draco Zephyr Malfoy, Remus Janphen Lupin and Sirius Caninus Black, either one of them, to be the father of the child I plan to use to continue my legacy now, would you?”

“Ron, Severus, Draco, Remus and Sirius…? What…are you talking about…?”

“Oh, I forgot. I gave you such a climax that you were knocked out even before I started my sacred ritual. You see, my snitches told me you have been selling sex to people out of grief ever since your poor godfather died, so I came up with a plan. Honestly I was a little disappointed at how you turned out to be, but then again, it kind of benefited me. I’m not getting any younger, boy, and I need at least an heir to carry on with my legacy and continue to spread fear and tyranny upon the people. But not just any heir. I want someone that was worthy and powerful. Someone that wouldn’t be defeated and make mistakes that I’ve made so easily. I knew that some of the clients you’ve entertained are of good traits and backgrounds, maybe even from a long line of powerful wizards and witches, so I decided to combine those traits and create the perfect spirit for my heir, and who better than a combination of my genes, those of the best traits and the genes of the Boy Who Lived?

“Of course, I knew you would recognize my voice straightaway—I do make good impressions on people—so I stayed quiet throughout my union with you. Oh, it was a thrill to see you squirm and beg for mercy. I wanted you to feel my true power. I wanted you to feel the real me. I wanted you to feel the power within me and show you what I can really do to you. But I guess I was too eager. You climaxed and passed out before I got my release. I tried to sort among the dozens of clients you’ve serviced by tracing the aura they left behind after having their way with you. None of them fit. That is until I found the perfect five. Ronald Alberto Weasley for his devoted loyalty and courage, Severus Alexi Snape for his talents and his Death Eater traits, Draco Zephyr Malfoy for his cunningness and his pride, Remus Janphen Lupin for his savage werewolf traits and Sirius Caninus Black for his beauty and intelligence. The perfect combination. Of course, I was surprised that your godfather fits in the equation…”

“You’re a liar! Sirius is dead! I watched him die! He can’t be alive!”

“Oh, true, he’s not alive,” the stranger pointed. “But he was possessing someone’s body while he was having sex with you, so his aura is still able to be left behind on you even though he was in another body. It’s the essence within that counts, Potter boy. I changed you into a temporary hermaphrodite so that you would be able to carry my seed, and while my seed merged with yours, I took the aura of the chosen five and combined them into our child. I made sure you were 100 pregnant before I delegated one of my snitches to send you back to Hogwarts. It was Severus, if you want to know. But don’t worry, he doesn’t even remember sending you home or what I was planning for you. I had Peter Pettigrew obliviate his memory as soon as he made sure Severus laid you on bed and left the Galleons by your side.”

“You…You monster!” Harry yelled as he pulled on the chains that held him. How dare he! How dare he use him to do his bidding! To think he had been carrying his child all these while, and to think that he had used the aura of the people he closely knew to create a demon! He had to protect his son from him. He may be the stranger’s son too, but there was no way he was going to let him corrupt his Cookie. No way! He struggled as he yelled dozens of obscenities at him, demanding him to return Cookie to him. The stranger gave a sideways glance at one of the hooded men. He nodded, took out a vial from his robe, forced Harry’s mouth open and emptied the vial’s content into him. Harry was too late to spit it out. Most of them got into his gut. He recognized the taste as the sedative Winnie gave him to ease the pain and make him sleep better. With whatever remaining consciousness he had, he pulled at the chains and begged with tears in his eyes to take him instead and spare the child before sleepiness engulfed him.

“He’s asleep, my lord,” the man who fed him the sedative potion said as he checked his breathing.
“Good. Keep feeding him sedatives, but not too much to kill him,” the stranger nodded as he adjusted the blanket that wrapped the baby. “We still need him to feed my prince.”

“Thank you for choosing my son to be one of your son’s traits, my lord,” the man bowed low, a few streaks of silver blonde hair dangling out of his hood. “I’m eternally grateful and honoured of this privilege.”

“You are one of my most trusted Death Eaters, Lucius Malfoy. It’s only befitting that I reward you for your loyalty. I expect your son will show the same loyalty you’ve showed me.”

“Yes, my lord. He maybe young, but he’s slowly learning the ways of your work. I’m sure he’ll be taking my place as the next Death Eater for the most honourable Lord Voldemort.”