Author Note: This was originally written for the 2014 Snarry Swap on snape-potter over on dreamwidth.

Title: I Will Always Seek You Out
Author: slashwriter
Other pairings/threesome:
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 6,740
Content/Warning(s): (highlight for spoilers) *Mpreg, forced bonding*
Prompt: From eriador117: Harry and friends are back at Hogwarts for 8th year. Severus is re-instated headmaster. Harry has been ill for a while and when he goes to Madam Pomfrey he discovers he's pregnant. It's impossible, he's never had sex. Because Snape is headmaster, he knows this as the castle alerts the headmaster when students lose their virginity or something like that. But when he intervenes, everyone thinks Snape is lying and that he's the father and has taken advantage of Harry.
Summary: Harry Potter finds himself in a very bizarre circumstance. He's never done anything besides kiss, so how did this happen? To make matters even more bizarre, people are blaming Snape.
A/N: I want to thank the wonderful mods for hosting this and for beta-reading.
Disclaimer: The Wizarding World of Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and not myself. I gain nothing monetarily from writing in her playground.

"And don't you ever come back here, do you hear, you freak!?"

Harry shook his head. He'd only returned to the Dursleys' place to make sure they were safe even though they didn't deserve it. Not after all the things they'd done to him.

It wasn't like they had anything he wanted. Everything had been Dudley's except for his school things. Which he'd packed beforehand and thankfully he did have everything in his trunk.

With Hogwarts repaired, he could finish his studies there that he hadn't gotten to do the previous year, due to the events leading up to the final battle.

He turned around to leave.

Petunia yelled at him, "You clean this mess before you go!"

"No. I've cleaned up all of your messes in the past. You can clean this one up yourself."

He did not want to go back inside. Nor did he want to see the porcelain of the toilet again. Too bad he'd have to later, when he needed to use the loo. He'd been seeing too much of the toilets over the past few months. But, at least it wouldn't belong to the Dursleys.

"Harry!"

"What, Hermione?"

"Are you okay? You look ill."

He shook his head. "I'll be fine, as soon as we get off the train." At least, he hoped so.

"Maybe you should see Madame Pomfrey when we get there."

"Yeah." He didn't really want to see the mediwitch. He was fine, just a bit under the weather.

'Keep telling yourself that. It's been months!'

Why did his conscience have to be right?

He sighed.

Ron entered, "I've got some water."

"Ron! Harry only asked for water, not all that junk food."

"Chocolate always makes everyone feel a bit better. And it's not just for Harry."

Harry had given Ron more Galleons than for just water. He was fine with the smorgasbord.

Picking up a chocolate frog, he took a bite out of it. And smiled; it had done the trick, for the moment.

However, as soon as the train halted in its usual spot not so very far from Hogwarts, he slipped forward and landed on his knees on the floor of the train.

His cheeks expanded, the sound of something bubbling up from his throat a warning sign. Lifting his hand to cover his mouth, he hurried through the crowd to get off the train.

Gasping for air, he fell to the ground, on his knees, eye level with a pair of black shoes.

His lips trembled, mouth opening as he was sick all over the shoes.

Pale and flushed all at once, he whimpered, "S-sorry..."

Upon looking up, his pupils dilated.

The man above sneered. "Ten points from Gryffindor for not aiming your projectile elsewhere."

Behind him, he heard Hermione, "Harry! You really need to see Madame Pomfrey."

The re-instated headmaster quirked a brow. "Indeed. Potter, your Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger can see to it that you find your way to the school's infirmary. I would take you there myself, but as it is I am required in the dining hall for the sorting of the school's latest acquisition of dunderheads. I only hope they have more manners and more brains than yourself."

Harry frowned; that was hardly fair, but leave it to Snape to act like a great big git.

Hermione and Ron each took one of his arms and led him to the castle of Hogwarts and to the infirmary.

Harry saw the door to the infirmary was open. "I'd really rather go to our dorms."

Hermoine's lips thinned. "Don't be ridiculous, Harry. You need to see her."

Ron nodded. "She's right, mate. You don't look good at all."

He just wished everyone would stop coddling him. He could have gotten to the infirmary on his own. Eventually.

Madame Pomfrey seemed to sense their presence even before they knocked, for as soon as Ron lifted his hand, the mediwitch stood there in the doorway.

"Come on, in with you. What malady ails you, Harry Potter?"

He shook his head. "I don't know."

"Symptoms?"

"Feeling sick at all hours of morning, noon and night."

"Anything else?"

"I have weird cravings for food one wouldn't usually put together."

Madame Pomfrey nodded, humming as she ticked something off on a clipboard she held.

"Anything else?"

"I have to use the bathroom more than ever and each week it keeps getting gradually worse."

"Is that all, Harry Potter?"

"No. Some foods I used to like make me ill just by their smell. And I'm quite tired, far more than usual."

He could hear the mediwitch clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. Her lips thinned.

"Well... these symptoms. If you were a girl."

Harry and Ron blinked.

Hermione's eyes grew wide, cheeks flushed. "Wizards are capable."

Madame Pomfrey did not smile at that. "Usually only if they've been given a potion by some with great aptitude for brewing."

Ron paled, "Wizards c-c-can..."

Hermione nudged Ron with her elbow. "Yes, Ron. I would think you would know that, having grown up in the Wizarding world and, failing that, read it in Hogwarts: A History."

Harry had had no idea. But he couldn't be pregnant. He'd never had sex.

"Well, it's not that. I've never had sex. And if I had, it would have been with a girl."

Hermione quirked a brow, but Harry didn't take much notice other than that she for once didn't have very much to say and neither did Ron.

Madame Pomfrey shook her head. "We don't know that for certain. Remember, there are all sorts of spells and charms which can tamper with memory."

She turned around and pulled out a drawer, taking from inside it a white package, which she opened. She handed him a stick. "I suggest you use the infirmary's bathroom. You just have to urinate on this and then, if it's a plus sign, that means you're pregnant. If it's a minus sign, that means you're not."

Harry felt his face warming, much like a lobster might whilst it was being boiled alive.

"I'm not pregnant. It's impossible!"

Madame Pomfrey frowned at him and ushered him toward the bathroom. "Nevertheless, Mister Potter, you will do as I say. If you are not, then what have you lost by taking the test?"

With a huff, he entered the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and locking it.

"I'll show her. There is no way I'm pregnant. I haven't taken any potions, and I certainly have never fucked or been fucked." He grumbled, but nevertheless he tugged down his zipper and pulled out his penis. Good thing he'd drunk so much water earlier, otherwise it might have taken a bit longer to urinate on the damn thing. Pregnancy Test for Wizards.

At the sight of it, all color left as he set the stick on the bathroom sink, used a piece of toilet paper to dry himself, flushed, proceeded to stuff his penis back in before zipping up and, finally, went to wash his hands.

Glancing down at the stick, his eyes rounded. Picking it up, he unlocked the bathroom door, and then the pregnancy test fell from his grasp as the world faded to black before his irises and felt himself falling down, down, down.

Someone catching him was the last thing he registered before completely passing out.