Chapter Ten - Out

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January was whizzing past in a blur of essays, practice exams, and assignments. The library was fuller for longer each evening now, and Harry was finding he woke up almost as tired as he was when he went to bed. Before he knew it, it had been two weeks since he'd returned to Hogwarts. Yet the hushed whispers and pairs of eyes still followed him wherever he went. Harry noticed too that the same whisperers were also following Ginny, who was just about as pleased of the attention as Harry himself was.

Draco was in the library, working on an Arithmancy assignment with Hermione of all people (they still weren't exactly friends, but each accepted that the other was their equal in terms of academic achievement and they worked well together) and Harry had re-read the chapter in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Seven three times and was still unable to accurately describe exactly how the Fidelius Charm was performed. He downed his book and pulled out the journal he was writing to the baby in instead. Balancing the open journal on his now sizeable bump, he dipped a quill in the ink pot on his bedside table, and began to write.

Wednesday 20th January 1999. I am 22 weeks pregnant

Hello, baby,

I've not written for a week or two, have I? I'm sorry. It's been hectic since I got back to Hogwarts a fortnight ago! So, 22 weeks, huh? We're over halfway! I can't believe it. Well, I can't until I look down and realise I can no longer see my feet, anyway! My respect for any woman who does this more than once is extremely high. I officially have 18 weeks until my 'due date' but they say they'll take me in around mid-May to deliver you, so realistically I have about 16 or 17 weeks left. I'm so excited!

You're moving loads and loads now. I've even begun to feel you hiccoughing. And when you move my tummy wobbles and slides from side to side. It really freaks Ron out, which makes Daddy Draco laugh.

Your other daddy is brilliant, and I'm completely smitten with him. If someone had told me this time last year I'd have said that, I'd have had them carted off to the Janus Thickey ward. Then again, this time last year I didn't think I'd live to see now. And not only am I alive, but I have you, and my friends, and your daddy. I'm so happy, little one.

The only problem seems to be your daddy's father (I will not write 'your grandfather'; he has no right to such an honour) who seems quite determined to make sure Daddy and me won't be a family. He's being quiet since the whole Boxing Day thing, but he's as Slytherin as they come; he'll be planning something. Don't worry though; we won't let Lucius tear us apart.

Oh, you know how I'm convinced you're a girl and Draco's convinced you're a boy? We've made a bet on it. But instead of the winner getting Galleons neither of us need, we've come up with something far better. The winner gets to name you. It's a bit of a risk, but, as my wonderful godfather told me once, 'what's life without a little risk'?

Well, I have work to do, so I'd better leave this for now. I'll write to you again soon,

Love from Daddy xx

*

"Potter, can I speak with you and Mister Malfoy in my office after breakfast before you go and see your Healer?" McGonagall asked the following Saturday, as Harry helped himself to toast and cereal. The tone of her voice was always authoritative to the point of scary, and Harry gulped. He shot her a worried glance and she sighed. "No need to look so panicked, Potter. I'm fully aware you're sharing a room with Draco and, whilst I won't deny I wish you'd asked for my permission, I happen to agree with you that it's a good idea. There is just an important issue I need to discuss with you both, that's all." He agreed and watched her head to the Slytherin table to speak with Draco.

Harry finished his toast and cornflakes and, once Draco had finished eating, the pair quickly made their way to the Headmistress' Office, discussing hurriedly what it could be about. They climbed the spiral stairs and Draco knocked.

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