Harry leaned back against William's chest with a gasp as the blonde's cool hand snaked its way into his trousers. Pushing back against the vampire's own growing bulge, he lifted his small wrist to William's waiting mouth.

It was quick and dirty.

It was in a broom closet.

It was the third mark.

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Thursday evening, Harry found himself stretched out on William's bed completely naked.

"Tonight Luv, tonight...."

"Yesssss!" Harry hissed as the vampire lowered his fanged mouth to the teen's chest.

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Friday morning Harry was ignoring his dorm mate's calls. He didn't care if he missed breakfast or even Herbology.

He was basking in his new situation, the possibilities of which were just now making themselves known.

He'd been shagged within an inch of his life twice now and received not only a 'hand job' as his friends called it but a 'blowjob' from his lover – experiences he was sure outnumbered those of the entire dorm added together; well, except for Seamus, he was such a man-whore.

He was married for all intents and purposes to a creature so powerful, Muggles and Wizards alike feared them. He was bound-joined-tied to a vampire over a century old in a bond that would last even unto death.

Harry's eyes went wide.

He...he didn't have to go back to the Dursley's!

His shout of joy echoed off the empty dorm room walls.

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It seemed like only minutes but in truth it was a few hours later when a voice interrupted his musings.

"Ahem...Mister Potter."

Harry rolled his eyes from behind the safety of his bed curtains. He didn't want to deal with McGonagall and her Disapproving-Death-Stare as the Gryffindors called it.

"Yes, Professor?" he called.

"I understand you have missed both Herbology and Lunch."

"Yes Ma'am," he answered, silently praying that she'd go away, "I'm not feeling all that well."

They both knew it was a lie and that she wouldn't call him on it.

"Be that as it may, Mister Potter, the Headmaster would like to see you in his office in thirty minutes."

"Yes Ma'am."

He waited until his Head of House's footsteps faded away before sliding out of bed for a quick shower and change of clothes.

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Harry thought that if the old man's eyes twinkled any more, they'd all be blind. Currently they sat in the Headmaster's office with Madam Pomfrey and Professors McGonagall and Snape. While the Medi-Witch looked embarrassed, McGonagall was her usual stoic self. The Potion's Master just looked slightly more annoyed than usual.

"Now Harry," Dumbledore said, "I've been hearing some interesting rumors floating around the school about you."

Rolling his eyes Harry muttered, "Not surprising." Outwardly he tried to mimic Snape's annoyed look but inside he was worried. He wasn't ready for anyone to discover his relationship with William. He wasn't worried about getting expelled or anything – if they wanted to deprive the only Wizard capable of defeating Voldemort an education, then let them. He and William could move to Tahiti or something and to Hell with everybody else.

"We believe you may have developed an unusual ability and Madam Pomfrey here will test you for it."

Snape snickered at 'unusual ability'.

Harry was interested.

"Really? What's the test?"

Pomfrey stood and bustled over to the teen with a vial of swirling gray potion.

"It's quite simple Mister Potter, a drop of your blood mixed into this potion will tell us all we need to know."

"Okay..." Truthfully Harry was a bit nervous about the blood thing. While it didn't seem to bother him with William, ever since the graveyard he'd been squeamish about the thought of people trying to get his blood.

The Medi-Witch however was very clinical; his finger was pricked and a drop of his blood in the vial before he could become too worked up about it.

They all sat quietly watching the potion.

Finally Harry got bored, "So what kind of ability might I have gotten?"

Snape rolled his eyes.

"Patience, my boy," Dumbledore said, "Let's see if there's a reason for excitement first."

The young Gryffindor huffed and flopped back in his chair. This was just the type of thing that irritated the crap out of him. Dumbledore would play the cryptic and mysterious sage until Harry wound up in the Dark Lord's lap – then if he was lucky enough to live he might, might, get a few scraps of information.

Harry sighed and the potion turned a bright purple.

McGonagall gasped – the first indication that she wasn't just a statue – and Dumbledore grinned widely. Snape looked shocked while Pomfrey seem worried.

"Well, well, well. You are full of surprises Harry."

"Uh-huh," Harry just wanted the old fart to get on with it all ready.

"You, my boy, are a Bearer."

"And that's what exactly."

"It means, Mister Potter," Madam Pomfrey interrupted, "that you are capable of producing and nurturing a child inside of you much as a woman can."

"So I'm a girl with manly bits?" Harry asked, shocked.

"That's one way to look at it," Snape said drolly, apparently over his own shock.

"Now Harry," Dumbledore said, shooting the black clad professor a warning look, "you are still the same young man you have always been, but you are now capable of something extremely rare, but exceptionally special. Bearers produce children of unparalleled power. The children of Bearers have included Merlin and all four of the Founders, all of which were responsible for times of great achievement and peace in the Wizarding World."

"So I can have babies, myself."

"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore answered, twinkling madly.

"And how do I get pregnant exactly."

That dimmed the old man a bit, and he even looked embarrassed. McGonagall was absorbed in her white knuckled hands while Snape examined the ceiling.

Madam Pomfrey snorted in annoyance. "A male will have to penetrate you anally and ejaculate while inside of you Mr. Potter."

That was blunt, but at least someone had answered the damn question.

"I guess it's good I like boys then, huh?" he mused quietly.

His Head of House nearly fell out of her chair and Snape chuckled.

"And when exactly did you come to that conclusion Potter," the Greasy Bat asked.

"Monday," Harry answered with a shrug.

"Monday," Snape repeated dully.

"Well that will certainly make things easier," Dumbledore interjected.

"Whhhyyyy?" Harry felt like the other shoe was falling – right on his head.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, "Well Harry, there is a strict procedure to follow when a Bearer is found – the Wizarding World must be told..."

"And then..." The teen knew his face was turning red and it wasn't from embarrassment.

"There will be a contest...only the winner, the most powerful and cunning Wizard will be allowed to-," he stopped.

"Say it old man," Harry gritted out, standing, fists clenched at his sides. Even Dumbledore's pathetic expression was not going to calm him.

"Only the winner will be allowed to marry you."

"You're telling me that I get to be the jackpot prize in some Wizarding game show. Then this complete stranger who could be anybody from Voldemort to Fudge to you," he jabbed a finger at the bearded man, "gets to knock me up and do whatever else they please and I get no say what-so-ever. Did I miss anything...Headmaster?"

Snape grinned evilly, "No that just about sums it up Potter."

Pomfrey gasped and they all turned to her. She now held a vial filled with bright pink swirling liquid – swirling just like the test potion.

Snape hit the floor with a loud 'thump'.

"What does it mean Poppy," Dumbledore asked worriedly.

"It means that Mister Potter is already pregnant."

A second and third 'thump' followed and suddenly Harry and the Medi-Witch were the only conscious people in the room.

"Well I guess that takes care of that then," Harry said and promptly stalked from the room.