 Title: "Harry Potter and the Magic Box" 1/? ----- Early July was really quite hot on the island this year. There was a heavy scent of honeysuckle hanging in the air. The drone of bees hadn't died down until nearly sunset. It was summer holiday, which meant it was lazily quiet at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where Headmaster Albus Dumbledore used this 'free' time to focus on a great many other areas of interest he was usually unable to find time for during the actual school year. Though it was summer, it still wasn't generally Dumbledore's practice to stay up the entire night long . . . While Dumbledore enjoyed conversing with the portraits of past headmasters and headmistresses who hung on the walls of his office, he found that sleeping and dreaming were two of his most sincere pleasures in life. He therefore made an effort to savor both on a regular basis. But tonight he'd spent many hours pacing back and forth with furrowed brow as he contemplated the current dilemma. The previous headmasters and headmistresses inside the portraits surrounding him were also wide awake, many of them pacing back and forth between portraits. Now and then one of them would offer Dumbledore a reassuring word or two, though they seemed as stymied as he about a reasonable resolution to the problem. "Termination still seems the best course," Phineas Nigellus offered for the third time. The tone of his reedy voice was imperious and his pleasant facial expression appeared forced. "It's a simple matter of magically making things normal again." "Out of the question!" Armando Dipper cried. He had been Dumbledore's immediate predecessor in the role of Hogwarts headmaster. "I believe many of us have made ourselves clear on that, Phineas," he added in a scornful voice. "Termination is just a fancy way of saying we should commit murder." Shocked mutterings greeted these words. Three heavy knocks from the brass knocker on the thick oak door interrupted the heated conversation. Dumbledore turned on his heel. The framed faces, too, glanced toward the office entrance. The door sprang open to admit Professor McGonagall, dressed in Muggle attire. Wisps of hair were escaping the confines of her straw summer hat as the perspiring professor moved forward to face Dumbledore. "Sorry to come by so late, Albus," she said, slipping off the thin plaid jacket and fanning herself with her hand. "My, it's quite warm tonight." "Nonsense, Minerva. It's not late at all. In fact," amusement twitched his features, "it's actually quite early!" They both smiled at his small joke. Some of the portraits chuckled in appreciation. "Do sit down," Dumbledore added. "I assume you've been by the house again?" A chair rose and drifted to Professor McGonagall's side. She sat with a grateful sigh. "Yes. Harry's fine in spite of the lack of affection and interest Lily's relatives show him. They appear to be clueless about his condition." Dumbledore turned and walked to the far wall where he stood for several seconds, hands behind his back. The room was very quiet, yet charged with emotion. "I'm still debating the best way to handle this," Dumbledore remarked, turning back to face Professor McGonagall. "Well, I've given it a great deal of thought, Albus," she replied. "This is most certainly not a product of dark magic, whatever others might have you believe." She glanced pointedly at the portrait of Phineas Nigellus before continuing. "Personally, I believe creation is a sacred thing." "Yes, yes, I most certainly agree," Dumbledore replied. "Still, there are some life forms that experience a creation that is anything but good, Minerva." He cleared his throat and glanced into her face. "But we're talking about two humans here, Albus!" Her tone was firm. "Two humans who may well have been ill-advised to come together as they did, certainly. Still, their actions weren't evil in nature. Surely you agree?" Dumbledore gave a small nod. "Yes, I agree. While I'd rather Severus had shown more self-restraint, there's no reason to act as though either of them acted out of anything dark. You know, in Muggle society Severus would be branded as a . . . a 'pervert,' I believe. That is the term they use, isn't it?" he asked, turning a sweeping glance around the chamber. Several voices affirmed his words before silencing once again. "Well, Muggles seem to believe that everything in life is directed entirely by age," Professor McGonagall commented, reaching a hand to tuck away a stray strand of hair. A chair flew through the air and gently thumped to the floor in front of Professor McGonagall. Dumbledore glided over and sat down, a small smile playing on his face. "We are not entirely free of that in the Wizard world, Minerva," Dumbledore said, reaching out a hand to claim the saucer that had drifted over to him. A cup flew to rest atop it. These were followed by a large pink teapot that swerved into Dumbledore's free hand. "Tea?" Dumbledore asked politely. Professor McGonagall smiled and reached into her lap where she withdrew her wand from the pocket of jacket. She waved the wand and spoke a soft command, conjuring a tea table. "Shall I be 'Mother'?" she asked. "Indeed," Dumbledore agreed, placing the cup and pot on the table surface. Dumbledore winked and a second cup appeared. The table was now covered with a variety of tea items, including a small pitcher of milk and a plate of ginger newt biscuits. Dumbledore reached for a napkin and tucked it neatly around his long white beard. Professor McGonagall lifted both the pitcher and teapot and carefully poured a mixture of tea and milk into the two cups. She returned these to the table before extending a cup and the biscuit plate to Dumbledore. "Just the ticket," Dumbledore said, taking the saucer and a biscuit and leaning forward to blow into the steaming cup. They both ate and drank, expressions thoughtful. The only sound that broke the silence was the friendly sound of sipping and chewing. (That and a few muffled comments emitted from inside the portrait frames.) Finally Professor McGonagall set down her cup and carefully wiped her mouth. "I suppose it's true, Albus," she said, resuming their discussion. "We, too, tend to assume the young are incapable of making difficult decisions. Ridiculous," she added, reaching for her cup and taking another sip of tea. "Indeed, indeed." Dumbledore's napkin had drifted to the floor and he was busy brushing crumbs from his beard. "Ah, but I think many of us are wise enough to know when to make exceptions." The professor shot him a wry glance and raised her eyebrows. "I assume we're not speaking about Severus in this instance?" Dumbledore's chin lifted. He appeared to be suppressing a smile of mirth. "Well, one would hope a teacher of this school could manage not to be overly close with any of his students." Professor McGonagall have a curt nod. "Still, Minerva, we're only human, after all. And love is the strongest of all magic. Nor can we pick and choose when it comes to love." McGonagall coughed, choking on a bite of biscuit. "Love? I don't remember that word being mentioned, Albus." "No, you're quite right. But though two people might certainly come together in either a physical or emotional fashion without love entering into it, I somehow find it difficult to believe that a pregnancy would occur without some element of love involved. At least in an instance like this . . ." he added, trailing off. "Babies are conceived every day without the slightest amount of affection being exchanged," Professor McGonagall replied, her tone matter-of-fact. "I see no reason to be sentimental about this." "But this particular pregnancy requires more magic than normal, I'd wager." "You never answered me the last time we spoke, Albus. It's not entirely unheard of for a man to conceive a child, is it?" "Certainly not! And though there was a time when some wizards and witches felt procreation should be strictly regulated, that never managed to take hold." "Would that we could assure this won't create just that sort of uproar," Professor McGonagall remarked. "I can just imagine how certain people will rush to create new rules." "Severus and I are supposed to discuss the matter again today," Dumbledore said, using his beard to wipe his mouth. "I think the decision should be left to Harry, frankly. Though there's no question that Severus fathered this child, he's not the one who will carry it to term. I think if Harry wants to relieve his young body of that responsibility that we might be able to convince Severus-" McGonagall interrupted with a burst of wry laughter. "Come now, Albus! You don't really believe Severus would agree to be the surrogate and assume the actual pregnancy? Rubbish." Dumbledore was silent. "You're undoubtedly right, Minerva," he agreed reluctantly. "Though in cases such as this it's generally assumed-" "No point in making that sort of assumption, Albus. It goes entirely against the grain. Though there are ways of finding other surrogates, I suppose?" "The safest method is for one of the biological parents to carry the child in the case of magical pregnancies," Dumbledore replied, his fingertips pressed together. "But if Harry would prefer to avoid this -- and we agree that Severus wouldn't even consider it -- then I'm sure we could find another wizard or witch willing to take it on." "Could a Muggle manage it?" Professor McGonagall inquired, tilting her head. "No, no. I think not. I doubt it's been tried, but it would require all sorts of explanations and risks." "Have you spoken to Potter?" "Only briefly before the end of term. He seemed quite adamant then that he would manage on his own. But that's out of the question. He probably should be here right now, where we can keep an eye on things." "Let's bring him back then, by all means. I worry about his hormonal state, for one thing. Being around all that Muggle negativity can't be good for either him or the baby." "You're entirely correct, Minerva. I'll send Hagrid after him immediately. There's a risk concerning Lord Voldemort, but I suspect there's more risk if Harry's Muggle family begins to get curious about his weight gain!" "He's not really showing very much," Professor McGonagall remarked. "Quite interesting when you consider he's . . . Oh my! He's five months along now, isn't he?" "Indeed. Do you realize that he'll be seven months pregnant when school resumes in the fall?" "How will we handle it, Albus? The other students will probably be very cruel." "We need to make it all as clear as we can, Minerva. Harry had no real idea what he was taking on when this all came out at the end of school. I'm sure by now he has a much better idea of the discomforts and responsibilities involved, though!" Dumbledore rose, yawning. "I think we'd both be best off getting a few hours sleep, Albus. I know it will be awkward, but I'd like to be there when you speak to Severus. It's time to quit pretending and admit the situation." Dumbledore nodded. "Severus is coming by at 11:00. Let's meet here just slightly before. Until then, I agree that a few hours of sleep would be beneficial." "I actually feel sorry for Severus, you know," Professor McGonagall said as she rose to leave. "I know it's a difficult thing, but I'd rather we didn't think of it as such a burden," Dumbledore said, helping her to don her jacket. Professor McGonagall retrieved her wand from the tea table and stuck it back inside her jacket pocket. She tucked away more stray hair and adjusted her straw hat. "I think it's easier to be positive when you're not the one who is either pregnant or who brought that pregnancy about." Her tone was tart. "We can only really help them if we determine to remain entirely positive, even so," Dumbledore replied. "Stigmas come when people allow negativity to be attached to actions. I won't allow Harry -- or his future baby -- to be stigmatized." The professor sighed. "I agreed, naturally. But regardless of our intentions, you know that there will be those who will turn this situation ugly." "Only if we allow it, Minerva. No doubt there will be fear regarding a baby born of the famous Harry Potter. I suspect many will wonder if the child might have some incredible powers never seen before. I can't help wondering it myself." Professor McGonagall moved to the oak door. "Well, the trick will be remembering that we've got a pregnant person to deal with, I suspect. To forget that this person is male -- and only an underage boy. I wonder how Sirius would have felt?" "You've finally voiced what I've pondered many, many times, Minerva. Sirius was certainly no friend to Severus. Still, this child will be Harry's baby, first and foremost. I suspect Sirius would have been a proud and doting relative! Extended families are often very loving." The door flew open and Professor McGonagall paused inside the doorway. "Albus, Harry will need all the extended family he can muster. Or that we can muster," she added. "Well," Dumbledore said, his long fingers continuing to absently comb crumbs from his beard, "there hasn't been a pregnant student in generations. And none that stayed on after the birth of the child. We're going to have our hands full." "I'm not at all good with babies," Professor McGonagall remarked, stepping on the winding staircase which automatically began to carry her windingly downward. "I've changed a few nappies in my day," Dumbledore answered, winking. "Better you than me," was the professor's fading response. "I suppose I should make a list," Dumbledore said, turning toward his desk. A quill flew into his hand and he began to write. "We'll need some magic nappies, of course." Several voices began speaking at once, offering suggestions. Dumbledore smiled. "I think a baby shower might be in order." the end part one |