The Rise of the Drackens

Harry comes into a very unexpected inheritance. He is a creature both rare and very dangerous, a creature that is black listed by the British Ministry. So now he must avoid detection at all costs, whilst choosing his life partners and dealing with impending pregnancy at just sixteen. With danger coming not just from the Ministry but even other creatures, what was he supposed to do?

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8022667/1/The-Rise-of-the-Drackens

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26. Chapter Twenty-Six – Nightmare or Reality

Harry couldn't believe it. He couldn't breathe, couldn't get enough air into his lungs as he gasped and choked. His beautiful baby had died. He had lost the baby.

He looked down to his stomach; it was flat again where he should have been round with child. He shivered in the warm air. He was cold, so cold.

Madam Pomfrey bustled around him, telling him that he had gone into shock and that he should try to breathe normally before he started to hyperventilate. He couldn't. How could he calm down and breathe normally when his baby was lying dead next to him, wrapped in a white towel that was speckling red with blood. His blood, not the baby's. His little baby had been covered in his blood when it had come out of him.

His baby was perfect. A tiny little body, small features, all ten fingers and ten toes, thick, dark hair that looked like it might have been inherited from the Potter side of the family. Pale white skin that was so soft it had no comparison. He had just had to touch his baby; he would never get the feel of that skin from his memories now, not ever.

His baby was perfect in every little way, except for one thing. His baby wasn't breathing. No one had moved his baby from beside him. His baby was lying on a small table, wrapped tightly in the towel, right beside him. He could reach out and touch his dead baby if he wanted to. He didn't. He wanted to be brave and hold his child, but he couldn't.

A small giggle pushed its way up from his throat, he sat in the hospital bed giggling and then the tears came. He eased from giggling to sobbing and then full out crying as tears soaked the collar of his shirt in moments.

He reached out and touched the towel, it moved. It slipped sideways and the perfect head of his perfect baby was revealed to his horrified eyes. He sobbed some more, feeling as if his heart would rip itself to pieces in his chest as he touched that thick, dark hair. It looked coarse, but it was baby fine, silky, just like his own.

He screamed and buried his face in his hands, hands that were now covered in blood from the baby's body. He cried out in distress, calling for his mates. Then he remembered. He remembered the anger, the pain, so much hurt and rage.

He looked down on the floor of the hospital. Legs poked around the bottom of the bed frame, Draco's legs. A slack face stared up at him from just past those long, lean legs, eyes wide in shock, glassy in death. A large, powerful body with bright blue wings that was oozing thick blood into a large puddle on the floor.

Harry screamed and threw himself away from Max's body. He jerked and shot up, tearing his mind away from the image of Max lying, bleeding and dead on the floor.

Arms wrapped around him and Harry gasped in huge lungfuls of air as he clung to the soothing, familiar scent of pine and disinfectant. He sobbed and buried himself even further into the tight hold, his head and back being stroked lovingly.

"Shh, Harry, it was just a dream." Max's voice whispered gently.

Harry huffed as he tried to breathe; he looked around him, to the three hospital beds that had been pushed together. To Blaise lying curled up on the other side of Max. To Nasta who was lying on his back, facing away from them and Draco, who was lying on Harry's other side, one of Nasta's arms pushed under his neck, their legs entwined, but no other part of their bodies touching.

Harry brought a hand to his belly, too scared to look just in case his bump was no longer there, that his baby was no longer there. He let out a great, shuddering breath and looked down at his bump when he felt his ballooned stomach. It was still there, exactly the same as it had been yesterday, though maybe just a tad bigger.

"You had a nightmare about the baby dying didn't you?" Max asked him softly, his own, massive, hands coming down to hold his over the baby bump.

Harry nodded his head slowly as he looked to their hands placed protectively over the baby.

"The baby died. I killed you all in rage. I killed all of you and the baby was still just as dead, lying next to me on a table wrapped in a bloodied towel."

Max pulled him in to a tight hug, holding his head tightly as if he could squeeze the dream out through his ears if he held on tight enough.

"I had a similar dream only both you and the baby had died and I killed all of the others. I'd bet that all of them are going to have a variant of the same nightmare tonight. Our Drackens are reminding us what is at stake, reminding us that we can't be careless and that the baby is fragile and the pregnancy is delicate. This can never happen again, Harry."

Harry wrapped his arms around Max and held on. He couldn't believe that it had been a dream; it felt so real, so life like. Even now he could believe that his dream had actually happened.

He let go of Max and let him lie down and sniff and lick at the bump. After the dream he had just had he wished that he could sniff and lick at himself as well, if only to assure himself that the baby really was alive and well in his belly.

Max stayed where he was, his tongue pressed very low down on his abdomen, like his tongue was a finger and he was checking a pulse. He found out that that wasn't too far from the mark actually.

"The baby's heartbeat is normal." He told Harry, stroking the place where his tongue had been.

"Is that where the baby's head is?" Harry asked, placing his hand next to Max's.

"Yes. The baby fell asleep as you were lying down, it was flat then, you've sat up now so the baby is upside down."

"Should I lie back down?" Harry asked a small frown on his face.

Max chuckled deeply and shook his head. "The baby doesn't mind at all, Harry. If it was uncomfortable, it would move itself."

Harry nodded a bit uncertainly, he couldn't wait to start those parent and baby classes that Nasta had signed them all up for.

Harry's stomach gave a small gurgle of hunger and Max moved as if it were a gunshot. Harry latched onto his arm.

"I don't want you to go hunting. I'm too near my heat, even if I do have to delay it for a few days. I need fruit."

"I'll go up to our rooms and get you some from the kitchenette."

Harry shook his head. "I don't want you to leave."

"You need to eat, Harry."

"So I'll just call a house elf." Harry answered, rolling his eyes. "Dobby!"

A loud crack which had Harry darting to look at his three sleeping mates preceded an old and ugly house elf entering the hospital wing, grumbling and muttering darkly. Thankfully Blaise and Draco slept on, Nasta's eyebrows scrunched up and he cautiously sniffed the air, making a low grumble in his chest before he rolled closer to Draco and slept on.

"Master Harry Potter called for Kreacher." The poisonous, oily voice greeted.

Another, quieter pop and a little figure dressed in an overlarge jumper jumped onto the pillowcase clad Kreacher, yelling and scuffling.

Harry scooted until he was sat behind Max, who growled and tugged Harry behind him more firmly. The little squeaks and squeals were shrill, but not loud enough to wake up the three deeply sleeping men. Again Nasta sniffed the air and again he let out a deep rumble, which Blaise answered with a grunt and they slept on.

"Stop it now!" Harry hissed. "There are three people trying to sleep here!"

"Master Harry called for Kreacher."

"No! Mister Harry Potter sir called for Dobby! Not Kreacher, you's should be going back to the kitchens!"

"Kreacher is Master's house elf, you belong to no one!" Kreacher dug in hurtfully, making Dobby's ears droop.

"Dobby is a free elf! Dobby likes being free and Dobby gets paying now."

Harry rubbed at his eyes tiredly.

"Oi!" He called out a bit louder. "Stop arguing and keep it down!"

Max wrapped an arm around him and pulled him out from behind his back and onto his lap.

"Harry Potter called for Dobby?" Dobby asked bowing.

"Kreacher is Master Harry Potter's elf!" Kreacher screamed out.

Harry looked behind him to see Nasta blinking his hazel eyes open slowly. He looked first to Draco who was wrapped in his arms and then further over to see Blaise lying on his own on the farthest bed and then he sat up, panicking lightly as his eyes darted around before settling on him and Max wrapped up in each other's arms.

"I had a nightmare." He told them and he crawled over to them and wrapped his arms around Harry's head, pulling him forward to kiss his forehead, before lying on his stomach to lick and sniff at the baby belly.

"That I and the baby had died and you had killed the other three dominants." Harry elaborated softly.

Nasta nodded against his stomach and rubbed the skin of his leg with gentle fingertips.

"Max had the same dream and I dreamed that the baby was dead and I had killed all of my dominants in a rage."

"Our Drackens are reminding us what is at stake if we are reckless and careless with the baby." Nasta said softly. "The baby is too vulnerable. We could have lost the baby, Harry; we could have lost you and the baby because we weren't careful enough."

"We're going to resolve that, I promise." Harry answered, running little fingers through Nasta's hair.

Harry turned back to the two house-elves looking as though they wanted to beat themselves senseless.

"I need lots of fruit." Harry told them. "I also want a mango and red berry smoothie, Dobby. Kreacher, lots of raw, red meat please. I don't want it, but my mates certainly do want it, cook it lightly please, I don't think I could handle it totally raw. Is that alright with you?"

Nasta nodded against his belly and Max pulled him forward to kiss him. "We can handle a bit of cooked meat, Harry, if you are going to be sick if it's raw. That would be the bigger problem, you vomiting now could dislodge the placenta and kill the baby."

Harry swallowed and held a hand over his belly. He had fallen asleep last night with the knowledge that his baby was still thriving in his womb. Then that nightmare had nearly ripped his heart to pieces and he had woken up afraid and hurting.

Dobby popped back into the room first with a huge basket full of fresh fruit and a tall glass full of a dull purplish coloured goo. It reminded Harry very forcefully of the concoction that he had had to drink yesterday, but the smell of mashed mangoes drew him to the glass regardless.

He gulped down the first quarter of the glass before slowing down a bit, before finally putting the glass on the side. He opened the basket and happily dove through the delights of fresh strawberries, blueberries, blackberries and the more exotic papaya, passion fruit and dragon fruit.

Kreacher came just as Harry was devouring a whole kiwi laden down with what looked like a half cooked side of beef. It was much bigger than the poor house elf and Harry automatically reached forward to steady the half a cow.

Max took it from the both of them and conjured four plates and using his claws he cut large chunks of meat from the bones. Harry turned away.

"Thank you both."

Dobby squealed and popped away. Kreacher said nothing as he left with a loud crack, Harry considered it a win that he hadn't said anything about Mudbloods, traitors or mentioned Walburga Black.

Harry returned his attention to his mates when Blaise shot up with a gasp and scanned the surrounding area, his eyes resting on him and Harry crawled over to Blaise as he moved towards him so they could hug and start the process of assuring the recently awoken male that the baby was completely fine.

"Ero così preoccupatoPrezioso." Blaise murmured holding him tightly. "Ti amonon posso perdere o il neonato."

"Blaise, I can't understand you love." Harry whispered.

"He's saying that he was worried about you, that he loves you and doesn't want to lose you or the baby." Nasta translated.

"Does he always revert to Italian when he's upset?" Max asked curiously.

Harry nodded. "And when he's angry or scared as well. He seems to lose the language barrier in his panicked mind."

Blaise held his head gently and pulled Harry into a deep, toe-curling kiss and sat on the bed stroking his hair, down his neck, all the way down and over his bump.

Harry lay against him and let him, also allowing Max to pop a blueberry or a grape into his mouth every so often. Nasta was the only one not eating and Max seemed to have come to a realisation as he tore into another cube of fresh meat. He didn't look too happy about his sudden epiphany either.

"What is it?" Harry asked looking between the two of them worriedly.

"Nothing, love." Max told him gently, passing him another handful of blueberries.

Harry looked at them both suspiciously through narrowed eyes, something was going on between them and he was going to find out what it was.

They were all distracted though when Draco started making deep noises and moving around in distress. Harry crawled over to him and lay down in his arms as he started twitching. Silver eyes snapped open and, with a gasp like a diver resurfacing from the water, Draco's arms wrapped around him tight.

"It was just a nightmare, Draco. It wasn't real. The baby and I are fine and Max, Nasta and Blaise are fine." Harry soothed lovingly, petting Draco's silky blond hair.

Draco heaved in another breath before slipping down the bed to nose at his stomach. Harry pulled his shirt out of the way so that Draco could have skin to skin contact with the baby bump and he let his blond mate do as he pleased.

When Draco had finished licking and sniffing, Nasta handed a plate full of meat to the blond and watched him eat a few pieces before he finally started eating himself. Harry wondered what the significance of it was as Draco and Blaise didn't seem to notice or care, but Max was looking even more disgruntled.

Harry didn't ask. Maybe their dominance instincts were awakening and they would have to have their dominance fight soon. He hoped that he wasn't there to see it. Nasta beating Draco to a pulp yesterday had been about all he could stand. He loved all of them and the very last thing that he wanted to see was them fighting and hurting each other.

Marianna Lychorinda sighed as her body prepared itself to go onto heat. She had wanted to go and visit her son, Blaise, at his school for a while now, but she was very busy at the moment and her newest Husband, Josiah Lychorinda, was not too happy with the news that he would have to take six days off from work because she was going on heat.

Humans just didn't understand Drackens; it was what Marianna had ended up killing most of them over, especially if they dared to lay a finger on her precious child. Only one of her previous Husbands had ever been stupid and suicidal enough to hit her darling Blaise and he had died a horrible, painful death. He had begged for days for her to kill him, but she had been so angry and seeing the handprint on her four year old son's face had kept the anger and rage raw and growing.

She didn't regret killing Pasqual, but she did regret torturing him as she had. At the time instinct and rage had taken away her inhibitions, had stripped all rationality from her mind. Now, years later, she looked back upon Pasqual with regret, sorrow and shame. He had needed to die for smacking her baby, but he needn't have died so painfully, nor so slowly. She should have just snapped his neck and been done with him, but at the time such a thought would never have passed through her mind, it would have been too easy a death for one who had touched her son.

She smiled fondly as she thought of her son, her one and only child. The only child that she would ever have now that she had taken to sleeping with humans after her beloved mate, Maximiliano Enzo Zabini had died. She had killed him whilst pregnant with their first child. It had been a terrible time for the both of them.

Her instincts had shrouded her normally quick and sharp mind, she didn't need Maximiliano to help her with her pregnancy, she could do it all herself. Her child didn't need anyone other than her to look after it.

They had shouted at each other, she had thrown things at Maximiliano and he had showed such amazing strength and patience with her. Most dominants in that situation would have punished their mate regardless of pregnancy; it just wouldn't have been tolerated. The behaviour of the mate would have driven all thoughts of the pregnancy from the dominant's mind.

Maximiliano had taken everything she had thrown at him, all of her harsh words and her takeover of his bed and bedroom, including the en suite bathroom. He hadn't been allowed near her and she had gone through her pregnancy alone.

Then one day, when she was five months pregnant, Maximiliano had had enough, his patience had come to an end and he had barged into the bedroom and he had tried to force her to submit to him.

Tears came to Marianna's eyes as she remembered perfectly how she had fought back, how she had fought him whilst protecting their growing child. She had wrapped her fingers around his neck and had snapped his spine in two. He had died before he knew what she was doing, he had died before he hit the ground, he had died before she could reconsider her actions, died before she could tell him how much she loved him, died before she could do anything to take it all back.

Blaise had been born only three weeks later, her early labour being offset by the death of her mate. He looked so much like Maximiliano. She had wanted to name him after his Father, but she couldn't bear to call him Maximiliano, not when the memories were too raw and painful, the rage that her baby brought up in her would have overflowed if he had had the same name. How dare he look so much like her dead mate!

She couldn't bear to name him at all; Blaise had spent the first month of his life nameless until she had finally found the courage to name him Blaise Mariano Zabini. Blaise because it was the name that Maximiliano had wanted for their first child, whether boy or girl and Mariano after herself, there had been no doubt in her mind that his last name would be Zabini.

She loved her son so dearly, her only living link to her mate Maximiliano. She would give Blaise anything and everything to see him happy, but the one thing she couldn't give to him was a mate. He had to do that on his own and it frightened her. What if his mate wasn't pretty enough, wasn't curvy enough, wasn't kind enough. What if Blaise got stuck with some submissive slut that had already slept with a human, forever barring her Blaise from being a Father?

Then in October Blaise had sent her a letter, a letter that she had been dreading. He had found a mate. He was so young as well. Normally a submissive went for mates in the eighteen to twenty-five age range, true Blaise was seventeen, but he was only just seventeen, she had sent him a birthday card and four owls worth of shrunken presents on the twelfth of October, the letter she had gotten back had been the one telling her that her baby had a fully bonded mate.

She had thought, had hoped, that he would be out of school before he found a mate. Blaise was too intelligent to drop out of school for a mate.

She needed to pay him and his mate a visit. Ooh, what if they had already conceived? She could already be a Grandmother! Marianna patted her thick, dark brown hair and applied a little lipstick ready for when Josiah joined her in the bedroom. She couldn't wait to be a Grandmother, but she could have waited a few more years for her son to finish his education first.

Harry wasn't released from the hospital for two days. His mates all had to work or go to classes, but they worked in tandem with each other so that he was never left alone.

Blaise and Draco stayed with him on their free periods, Max came on his lunch break and Nasta took the graveyard shift at the Dragon Reserve so he could be there all day and go to work whilst the other three were sleeping next to him.

When he was finally released Harry felt like sighing in relief. He hated the hospital wing, nothing against Madam Pomfrey, but he really did hate Healers and all hospitals. It was likely the smell but then Max smelt of the disinfectant he used before he handled any ingredient when making potions and that smell didn't bother him at all.

Draco carried him from the hospital wing and the others walked as if they were the royal guard. It annoyed Harry, but he would put up with anything to keep his baby safe, though he did suggest that they not be so obvious about what they were doing. They ignored him.

Draco sat on the settee in their living room and he held Harry on his lap as the other three scouted the room for 'dangers'. Harry sat still and rolled his eyes and tutted.

Once the rooms were clear of dangers Harry was allowed to do as he pleased, as long as it didn't involve leave the room that his dominants were in that was. He hoped that this behaviour didn't last until the end of his pregnancy because he could quite easily see himself ripping his mates' legs from their knee joints so that they couldn't follow him everywhere.

At dinner time, Harry allowed Max to carry him down to the Great Hall. The entire student body knew that he had been in the hospital wing for the past three days because of problems with his baby and as all five of them walked into the Great Hall and sat at the Slytherin table, Harry was accosted by Lavender, Parvati, Padma and Ginny almost immediately after he'd sat himself down.

"Harry, are you alright?" Ginny asked.

"How's your baby? Is the baby alright?"

"Did you have a miscarriage?"

"Girls!" Harry cried out. "Calm down. I'm fine, the baby is fine. There isn't anything to worry about any more."

Draco growled and the blond's hand clamped around his thigh, Harry looked to Draco to reprimand him or ask what the hell he had done wrong when he saw all of his mates were growling and looking in the same direction.

Harry looked the same way, behind Ginny and Lavender was Hermione. Her head was down and she didn't look at him as she timidly handed him an envelope and a small wrapped box that was flat, about the size of large book.

"What is this?" Harry asked as he opened the envelope. Inside was a get well soon card. His heart almost stopped.

Harry opened the wrapped present and inside, wrapped in tissue paper, was a beautiful hand knitted cosy-toes. It was white and hand embroidered with silver stitching that made up a beautiful vine and leaf design. There was lace carefully stitched onto the front to make a pocket for the baby's hands and it was all fleece lined on the inside to keep the baby warm.

"I…I…this is amazing, Hermione." Harry managed to stutter out. "Did you make it yourself? It's beautiful, thank you."

"Does this mean that you've finally come to your senses?" Ginny asked her in a harsh tone.

"I think it means that Hermione has gotten better at knitting." Harry put in trying to lighten the mood.

Hermione gave a wry smile and shuffled a bit on her feet.

"I've been knitting that since I first heard that you were pregnant." She told him softly.

"You've really put a lot of effort into this, Hermione, I love it and I'm sure the baby will as well."

"I didn't know if I should give it to you or not. Not after the rumours."

"The baby is fine. It was touch and go for a day or so, but Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape finally managed to stabilise the baby."

"What happened?" Parvati asked.

Harry looked to Ginny and Hermione and sighed. He shook his head and looked over to the end of the Gryffindor table when Ron was watching them all with a red face and a clenched fist. Obviously his bout of helping in the hospital wing had been about all his mentality could handle.

"What did he do?" Ginny asked through gritted teeth having looked to where Harry was and seeing her brother.

Harry had decided he wasn't going to say anything, he didn't want his mates getting upset again, but they had other ideas.

"He decided that it would be a good idea to punch Harry in the stomach when he was already in the hospital wing because of stomach cramps." Blaise bit out forcefully. "Harry almost lost the baby twice because of that fool!"

Ginny went a red so spectacular that she put her robes and her hair to shame.

"I can't believe that he would do such a thing!" She hissed. "Just wait until Mum finds out!"

Ginny stomped off, presumably towards the Owlery to send a letter to Mrs Weasley. If he hadn't of been so shocked he would have told her not to. Dumbledore had already sent a letter of warning to Mrs Weasley, this would be Ron's second warning, if a student got a third, they were expelled.

There was no doubt in his mind though that if he had fully miscarried the baby then Ron's wand would have been snapped right then and there, followed by his neck by his mates and possibly by himself. No one hurt his baby, much less killed them and get away with it.

"But…but you're alright now?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

"Yes, just a few lingering bruises, the baby is completely fine. We're all going to take a week or so off now to just relax and to let the baby reaffirm its place in my womb. I've got all of my homework assignments for the next week, so don't worry about my school work."

Hermione closed her mouth with a small click and she smiled a bit sheepishly.

"I'll just go now. I just wanted to give you that and to make sure that the baby was alright. I can't understand why Ron would hurt an innocent baby, but I'll have a talk with him. We both know he has a temper."

Harry nodded but said nothing else. It was true. Ron did have a temper, they both did which was why it had been a bad idea to put them in the hospital wing together and then leave them alone. Not that it was Madam Pomfrey's fault, she hadn't really understood how bad things had gotten, how much Ron and Harry had grown to dislike each other when last year they had been the bestest of friends.

Harry laid his face on the cosy toes and nuzzled it a bit. It was super soft and he could just imagine carrying his baby around in it from place to place. He smiled; he had found another item to bring with him into the nest when he went into labour.

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