Harry stirred the potion he and Hermione were making together as she timed him.
"Okay, stop!" she told him and he immediately quit since he knew how important precise timing was to the stability of the concoction.
Hermione dropped two rose petals and the blue liquid became a foamy white as they dissolved. She nodded and Harry made three more full stirs. The potion became a clear turquoise color.
"Perfect!" Hermione grinned. She coarked a flask of it and labeled it. Other students in the smaller advanced class were turning in their samples and leaving. Harry and Hermione purposefully lingered wanting to speak with Professor Snape alone.
Hermione sat at their desk, gathering their books deliberately slowly. Harry cleaned their cauldron with excrutiating detail and took the sample to the desk after the last remaining other students had left.
"Professor," he began after getting Snape's attention. "We need to get the recipe for the birth control potion you made for us. "Could you tell us--" He stopped. Hermione had stood up, swayed, and caught their desk to keep from falling. He was at her side in an instant. "Are you okay?" He asked, bracing her.
Hermione nodded, her eyes tightly shut. "I just got dizzy."
"I'm worried about you," Harry told her. "You've been dizzy and nauseated the past few days and haven't eaten right in days."
"I think it's nerves," Hermione confessed. "I think about what we're facing all the time. I don't want to loose you."
Professor Snape approached them with a slip of parchment. "Are you all right, Mrs. Potter?" he asked. Even though their teachers continued to call her Miss Granger in class, all who knew the truth called her by her proper title when no one outside the Order was present.
"Yes, thank you." she said, taking the parchment.
"Let me know if you need any of the ingredients," he offered.
Hermione scanned the recipe. "Professor," she called, a question in her eyes.
"Yes?"
"This says that I'm supposed to take the blue one and Harry's supposed to take the red one."
Snape stared at her blankly. "Yes."
"But that can't be right," she argued.
"I assure you it is correct. I hope for your sakes that you didn't reverse them."
"We couldn't have," Harry told him. "Professor Dumbledore gave us the potions himself. I know we took the right ones and I took the blue one."
"He gave me the red one," Hermione added.
Snape looked from Harry to Hermione and back to Harry. "Are you sure? Professor Dumbledore gave you the blue one and her the red one?"
"Yes sir," Hermione answered. "How could he have made a mistake?"
"And you drank them?" Snape prodded as though he were having a very hard time understanding this very simple fact.
"Of course we drank them," Harry answered.
"And then consummated your marriage?"
"Yeah," Harry answered uncomfortably. That had been, to an extent, the point of the ceremony, after all. "What happens if you take the wrong potion? Is that why Hermione's sick?"
For the first time either could remember, Professor Snape looked awkward. "Mr. Potter, I suggest you take your wife to see Madame Pompfrey," he answered shortly. He returned to his desk and the samples of potion waiting for him to grade.
****************
Madame Pompfrey delivered the news with disbelief. She knew the two were already married and she knew from the way they had approached her that they had no idea what the results would be when taking the potion as they had been instructed. Hermione had given her the potion recipe to inspect and Harry had told her they had taken the potions backward because Dumbledore had told them to do so. Harry was concerned that Hermione was having some kind of reaction, but clearly did not realize what her symptoms were indicating. Hermione, who probably had an inkling of her condition subconsciously, had been in denial and insisted that Dumbledore had not made a mistake.
"This is a dual purpose fertility potion," Madame Pompfrey explained. "If the male takes the red and the female takes the blue, it is birth control. If the potions are reversed, it guarantees conception."
The color drained from Hermione's face and she was silent.
"Conception?" Harry repeated, as the meaning of word battled its way into his resistant mind. "But," he looked to his wife. "We," he stammered. "Conception?"
"You're pregnant," Madame Pompfrey told them. "With this potion, it's inevitable for a healthy couple. With your symptoms, I have no doubt."
Hermione fainted on the spot. Harry carried her to the nearest bed. When she came to, Madame Pompfrey told her she should have an exam to make sure she was physically well and Hermione reluctantly agreed to it, changing into the gown. Harry held her hand, but looked away the entire time to save her more embarrassment.
"It's not so bad after the first time," the nurse explained. "There are advantages to being a witch. We can do magical scanning with occasional physical exams throughout the pregnancy."
"Splendid," Hermione muttered, covering herself with the sheet. She turned to Harry, "You can look now."
He sat on the edge of the bed to cradle his wife. "I'm sorry," was all he could say. "I had no idea he would do this to us. I have no idea why he would do this to us."
"How could he have made a mistake?" Hermione asked as tears streamed down her face. She kept the sheets pulled up to her chin as Harry sat beside her, stroking her back as she cried.
"Professor Dumbledore doesn't make mistakes," Harry told her, avoiding her eyes. He did not want her to see the anger he felt, less she think he was mad at her.
"We're not ready for this!" she sobbed, holding onto Harry as tightly as she could. "We're not ready for any of this! We weren't ready to be married. We weren't ready to start sleeping together. We're not ready to have a baby! We're not ready to battle Voldemort. We're just kids ourself!"
Madame Pompfrey gave them a look of sympathy before leaving them alone.
"I'm sorry," Harry told her softly. "I'm so sorry. This is all because of me." He had never felt so guilty about anything in his life. Hermione loved him, but she had agreed to marry him at 15 years old to ward off a threat on his life from Voldemort. She was giving up her youth and freedom for his sake and now, now she was pregnant. This, the most important decision they could make as a couple, had been taken from them. His love for Hermione, his guilt over their predicament, and his rage at Dumbledore ebbed and flowed within him like a current fighting itself.
"It's not your fault," she told him. "I knew the potion went the other way. I read about it. I just assumed I was wrong when Dumbledore gave it to us."
"Don't think for one minute that it's your fault either," Harry told him. "This whole thing was arranged by him. He wanted us to marry. He wanted us to have this baby."
"But why?" Hermione asked, begging for an answer Harry could not give her.
"I intend to find out," Harry said. "Do you need anything?" he asked, aware that she might think he was abandoning her if he left to confront the headmaster.
"Answers," she replied. She did not even have the instinct to stop Harry from approaching Dumbledore despite knowing how angry he was. She could feel the anger radiating from him and it reinforced in her mind just how potentially powerful her husband was.
"I'll be back as soon as I get them," Harry told her darkly.
As he left the hospital wing, Hedwig swooped down to him. "You always know when I need you," he said stroking her head affectionately. He conjured some parchment and a quill, and sent her off with a note.
Harry checked the time and deduced that Dumbledore should be in the Great Hall for dinner, so he turned in that direction. His anger seemed to build with every step he took. Dumbledore was playing with his and Hermione's life and instigating situations that he should have no control over. He had gone beyond playing with Harry's life and was now playing God with Hermione's life, and, Harry realized, with his child's life. He was going to be a father long before he was ready. Hermione, who was the most studious witch at Hogwarts was going to have her education disrupted by a baby. Beyond that, Voldemort could kill him and he might not even be around to help Hermione raise the child.
Maybe that's it, Harry thought. Maybe he wants to have a spare Potter if Voldemort kills me. Maybe he wants to train the baby from birth. He's done enough manipulating with my life and he won't do this to my child, Harry seethed. He didn't realize there was raw power flowing from him as he walked briskly through the hall.
The doors to the Great Hall blew open as he approached them and they slammed shut after he entered. With a single directive, he made his way up the center of the Hall toward Dumbledore. He did not see all the eyes upon him. He did not hear goblets shattering as he passed or girls squealing in fear. He did not realize the entire student body was in a state of shock at this display of power or that they could feel his power as it reached out and touched them all. He did not hear Ron calling his name or muttering, "Bloody hell."
Harry marched straight to the center of the table where Dumbledore remained seated while all the other staff turned in their direction. He paid no attention to anyone other than the aged man in the center of the table and the center of his life's predicaments.
"Harry," Dumbledore began, but Harry did not give him a chance to finish whatever he was going to say.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" Harry asked fiercely. "You damn well better have a good explanation for this!"
All eyes were upon the confrontation. Most could not believe they were watching a student approach Dumbledore this way or speak to him this way. None could fathom what they were witnessing of Harry's strength. Yes, they had all heard he had killed a basilisk and come face to face with You-Know-Who on more than one occasion. But the speculation of just what Harry Potter was made of had remained speculation. No one had imagined he had the fortitude to challenge the most powerful wizard alive.
"We should talk," Dumbledore said calmly. "In private."
"By all means," Harry snapped. "Your office. Now."
Snape had risen in an obvious motion to protect the headmaster from what he perceived as a threat.
"Sit, Severus. Harry and I will work this out. I do owe him an explanation." He made no comment to the students or other faculty.
Harry found the old man's ever-calm demeanor to be annoying. They slipped out of the side of the Great Hall and made their way to Dumbledore's office.
"If you offer me a lemon drop, I will hurt you," Harry told the aged wizard as he reached for a candy jar on his desk. "Explain to me why my wife is in the hospital wing crying her eyes out and looking at the prospect of motherhood at sixteen years old. Explain to me why you told us we were taking birth control when you gave us a fertility potion guaranteed to cause conception. Why would you see to it that Hermione has a child to raise when I may be killed in weeks? Why would you see to it that she's pregnant when she and our child could be killed?"
Dumbledore watched Harry closely as he asked his questions. His visage never became less than serene. "Yes, my dear boy, I was expecting you to be angry. That was quite a show you just put on. Brilliant display. The Death Eaters' children will be scampering to tell their parents about this, how you left a trail of destruction with just an emotion." Dumbledore laughed. "You are a legend in your own time."
"Why is my wife pregnant?" Harry yelled, irritated by Dumbledore's comments. At this point he did not care about Death Eathers or their children or his reputation.
Dumbledore leaned forward, putting his hands together as if he were praying. "Protection," he answered as if it were the most simple and obvious answer to be found.
"Protection?" Harry repeated. "For whom?"
"For Hermione," the older wizard replied. "The protection your mother left you is in your blood, in your very core. It will be passed on to your children just as it runs in the veins of your aunt. Your child in Hermione's womb protects her in more than one way."
"My blood runs in Voldemort's veins too. Are you forgetting that? He's broken that barrier."
"Remember, I said more ways than one. Evil cannot touch the pure innocence of the unborn. This goes back to the research I did all summer on the blood bond between you, your mother, and your mother's family. For some witches, pregnancy provides a protective shield."
"They why didn't every witch have baby after baby during Voldemort's first reign of terror?"
"Can you think of no one who did?" Dumbledore asked leadingly.
Harry thought a moment, "Mrs. Weasley?" he said.
Dumbledore nodded. "She will be able to talk to Hermione and explain this from a woman's perspective."
"Does she know?" Harry asked, suspicious that once more his life had been plotted out without his input.
"No," he answered. "This is not guaranteed to protect Hermione, but it's an ancient form of magic that has been protecting some witches for generations."
"Then it's the luck of the draw."
"To an extent. But I believe it worked for your mother as she was threatened by Voldemort's followers while carrying you and left unscathed. You remember that your parents defied Voldemort three times before he was able to kill them."
"Of course I do. But what makes you think this will work for Hermione?"
"Isn't it worthwhile to protect her in any way possible?" Dumbledore questioned. "If this magic can be passed on through your mother's blood and sacrifice, isn't it worth the inconvenience to protect your wife's life?"
"Is it fair to use a baby that way?" Harry asked. "It seems you did not consider that three lives would be at stake here. Now when Voldemort comes, and we know he will come, my wife and our child will be in danger."
"And if Hermione is untouchable?" Dumbledore queried.
Harry was silent, shaking his head in frustration. If Dumbledore's gamble paid off, Hermione would survive and so would their child. Yet, he remained torn that this was a callous way to start a family. It was not about the child, but about the evil surrounding and threatening them.
"I should go explain this to my wife," Harry said. "All she's asked for is answers."
"And now you have them."