Note: Umm, this may or may not be crack. Or it is. Anyway, Teddy was originally in this but I liked it so much I deleted him to save for another story. So this fic doesn't follow Book 7.

- - - - -

The Syngnathidae family of fish includes seahorses, the pipefish, and the weedy and leafy sea dragons. This family of fish have the unique characteristic where females lay their eggs in a brood pouch on the male's chest, and the male then fertilizes and incubates the eggs. It is the only family in the animal kingdom to which the term "male pregnancy" has been applied.

- - - - -

Harry stared at the peculiar object Luna was holding out to him. He knew, deep down inside, that coming to Ron and Luna for help wouldn't turn out well. It wasn't like he had many other options, though.

Luna was shaking it at him now, trying to recapture his attention. Harry considered it, and then wisely took a step back.

“What is that?” he asked finally, deciding that it didn't look particularly fun and he'd rather keep his distance.

“It's a strap-on belly,” Luna said simply. “You just fasten it around your middle and it sort of simulates a pregnancy for anyone that wants one."

Harry snorted. For anyone that wanted one. He would have liked to see just how many deranged people were on that list. It looked like a big, brown, round pillow with four belt straps hanging from it. He thought it looked more like a torture device than a pregnant woman's belly. Which… arguably…

Harry hesitantly took it from Luna and nearly dropped it. “Bloody hell! No way is it that heavy in real life!”

“That's the actual weight about nine months along, yes,” Luna assured him. “And I think that this would be a wonderful way to show Hermione you're sorry.”

Merlin, the things Harry allowed himself to consider for love. It was his own fault, though. He had become short with Hermione first, and then the tiny matter was blown completely out of proportion. She was pregnant, emotional, bored and chronically hungry. His job as the loving husband was supposed to be to support her, not yell and get banished to the couch.

"Want to try it on?"

Personally, Harry thought Luna was mad, but he decided to humor her anyway. He heaved the heavy pillow over his abdomen and fastened the straps behind his back with Luna's help. His first thought was "ow,” but after a few seconds of twisting and moving, he figured it wasn't that bad. He didn't know what pregnant women were complaining about. Sure, there was morning sickness and cramps and all that, but still. Obviously the weight wasn't something to whine about. He dropped down and did a few half push-ups, hindered by the belly hitting the floor.

“Not bad at all,” Harry commented, pulling his shirt out from underneath it and stretching it over the bump. “Though I'd have a little trouble doing lunges and touching my toes, but really, who does that on a regular basis anyway?”

“So you'll use it?” Luna asked, her blue eyes wide as if she were surprised he had gone all the way to their house to ask for advice and had actually taken it. Which admittedly, Harry didn't often do. “I think you should.”

“I'd listen to her, mate,” Ron called from the kitchen, his mouth full of bacon and eggs. “Hermione's real ticked at you. Ginny said you're an idiot for getting short with a pregnant woman.”

Harry had lost his temper dealing with Hermione the previous night. They had gone nearly nine whole months of pregnancy without so much as a disagreement over toilet paper brands. To most people that was an incredible feat, but Harry still felt horrible. It was just that he'd been walking on thin ice all that time, something was bound to blow up. It was also so unexpected. The two of them had been preparing for months and thought they had everything covered. It was a reasonable thing to assume, seeing as Hermione was known to prepare thoroughly for every little thing and take notes stacked thicker than the actual textbook.

“It was very foolish. If you wanted lifelong misery, you would have been better off grooming the jutenas of a Glavisaurus.” Luna nodded. Harry blinked at her. Well, she had been relatively normal up until just then. It was always a little unsettling whenever Luna spoke like everyone else.

“Doesn't this, I don't know, cheapen the `miracle of birth' or something?” Harry wondered. “What if she finds this offensive?”

“Nah, it's funny,” Ron said, walking into the room with them. He was carrying a plate of bacon as if he couldn't bear to part with it.

“But what if she thinks I'm mocking her?” Harry swiped a strip of bacon from the plate, earning a horrified look from Ron.

“It's fine,” Luna assured him.

“So she won't hex me as soon as I walk in the door?”

“No,” his friends said firmly.

“Why do you even have one of these, anyway?” Harry wondered, tugging absently at the strap fastened around his hip.

“Ronald likes it when I wear it in - “

“Oi, Harry!” Ron said quickly. His neck had gone red. "Fancy some breakfast? We still have some eggs in the kitchen."

Harry stared at Ron, then at Luna, who didn't seem the least bit bothered, and then back to Ron again. He was scratching behind his ears nervously. Harry looked down at the pregnant belly strapped to his stomach for a very long time. Then his brain twitched.

“What - ?!“

“Nonmobulus!” Luna said suddenly, her wand out from its perch behind her radish-decorated ear. Harry tugged at the round, brown, sand-filled pseudo-belly. It wouldn't budge.

“Get it off me!” Harry cried, his fingers scrabbling uselessly at the buckles.

“Look, mate, it's okay,” Ron assured him. “Come on, Hermione would love that you're doing this for her. She's sick and depraved like that - “

“She's sick and depraved!?” Harry demanded. “I'm wearing your bloody fetish thing! I can't believe you - oh, my God - oh, God!”

He backed out of their house, his throat burning, and Apparated home with the Weasley-Lovegood sex object magically bound to his body. Harry vowed that was the last time he ever went to Ron and Luna for help. Ever. Even if he found himself being chased by a murderous Crumple-Horned Snorkack, he would refuse any assistance whatsoever from the world's only leading expert. Standing at his front doorstep still hyperventilating, he tried once again to rip away the straps in vain. He took a deep breath and resolved that nothing more could be done. It was time to face Hermione.

After Harry had Disappeared, Ron looked at Luna smugly.

“Five galleons says Hermione laughs him out the house.”

“The point is, he will be forgiven,” Luna said sagely, taking Ron's plate and walking back to the kitchen.

“Still, though," Ron followed her and poked her between the shoulder blades.

“All right, well, ten says Hermione will laugh and then show up in the Floo to yell at us.”

"Should we tell him what happens to it at midnight?"

Luna smiled serenely. "Surprises are always more fun."

- - -

Hermione woke up with a headache. The window shade had somehow managed to pull itself up and was letting the obnoxiously bright morning sun stream into her face, disrupting the first full six hours of sleep she'd had for a very long time.

“Wonderful,” she muttered to herself. She hoisted herself up off her large, empty bed and waddled into the bathroom. Vomiting wasn't even that disgusting for her anymore. It was more like a chore or waiting in line at the supermarket. She'd resigned herself to just holding her hair back and waiting it out. When she was done, she washed her face and brushed her teeth, all the while thinking bad things about her husband, who was probably enjoying his blissful, non-nauseating sleep time on the lumpy sofa.

“Prat,” Hermione thought out loud as she wrapped herself in a robe and made her way carefully down the stairs.

This bloody baby was going to be born weighing about twenty pounds. It had to. She just couldn't understand why she was so bloody huge otherwise. She had weighed in at barely six pounds herself and Harry, well, in all honesty chances were that a man with Harry's slightly-less-than-average size was probably not particularly large as an infant.

Then again, those horrid Dursleys never fed poor Harry well. They never let him play, talk, or be happy in general. He had pretty much been living with human Dementors his whole life and it was amazing how someone with such a horrible childhood and even adolescence could grow into such a wonderful person. She'd always heard horror stories about people who were abused as children growing up to be criminals and rapists and, well, Voldemort. She sighed.

Six hours ago, Hermione had been more furious at him than she had ever been in her entire life. Now, she was already beginning to forgive him. Her heart ached a bit, and this time she couldn't even attribute it to gas. She wanted to see his sleeping face. It was pathetic, really.

How could she stay angry at Harry? He had been so patient and near-perfect for the past couple of months while she carried their child. He'd even bought them a nice new toilet for their bathroom, after she accidentally banished their old one to Siberia. She never was very good at cleaning the house, especially the magical way, and her attempt at scouring the bowl ended up scaring seven Muggle adventurers and their St. Bernard. Poor Mr. Weasley had a field day with that one.

She knew the whole “maternity leave” thing would never work. Her colleagues at the office had to literally chase her out of the Ministry when she kindly informed them that they were all being ridiculous and it wasn't necessary for her to take any time off. They had had the gall to call her a workaholic, which was perhaps true, but annoyed Hermione all the same. She started to suspect it was time, though, when they had to change the locks after forcing her out. Honestly, suggesting she begin her maternity leave a full two months before the baby was due seemed silly. Just because she was massively pregnant, didn't mean she couldn't dodge booby-trapped crypts or deactivate exploding tombs like any other curse breaker. Though the new batch of Celtic burial grounds they'd found did seem just a tad more dangerous, with its brain-liquefying curses and dragon guards. She did have the baby to worry about.

It was frustrating. When she was frustrated, she became just short of a bitch and Harry had tolerated it for much longer than Hermione should have expected. She reached the bottom of the stairs, not a simple feat lately, and rounded the corner into the living room. Harry wasn't there, but there was sufficient evidence that he had been there. Two of the cushions were squashed lower than one, because of Harry's habit of curling up when he slept. His blanket was rolled into an unruly ball and stuffed in the corner of the couched between the arm and the cushion. Harry didn't quite understand the concept of folding. To him, rolling everything up into a ball and stuffing it where no one could see was acceptable. He did it with everything, blankets, towels, clothes in the drawer…

Merlin, only Harry could have such an annoying habit that she also found endearing. She tolerantly yanked the blanket from the couch and started to fold it, when the door suddenly opened out in the front hall. Hermione dropped the blanket and hurried around the couch to meet whoever it was.

“Harry?”

“Hermione? You're up?” Harry sounded startled. By the time Hermione got a good look at him, Harry had turned his back to her, facing the front door with his head hung low like he was embarrassed about something. She could see that his red t-shirt was stretched across his back, revealing what looked like a weird harness underneath.

“Harry? Where were you?” Hermione asked. “And what on earth is that thing you're wearing?”

Harry still didn't turn around, which made Hermione even more curious. “Um, okay, just so you know…I can't take it off. Luna's cursed it on real well, I think.”

“You were at Ron and Luna's this early? Why?”

Hermione stared as his hand flew to the back of his head and began scratching nervously. “I felt really bad about last night. I still feel really bad about last night. I needed advice. I love you. You know that, don't you? I didn't mean a thing I said.”

She barely even comprehended the last part of his statement. “You went to Ron and Luna for advice?! Are you mad?”

“Apparently.” Hermione practically heard him roll his eyes. She bit her lip. Somehow, she just knew that something either very entertaining or very disturbing was about to happen.

“Oh, Harry, it's all right. I'm not angry, and I'm sorry as well. I just wish you could have spoken to me first.” Hermione tried to peer around his back, but he kept whatever it was firmly hidden.

“I know, but, well, they had an idea,” Harry said, quickly dodging Hermione's line of vision. Him and his stupid Quidditch reflexes. Hermione tutted impatiently.

“An idea about what?”

“An idea of how I could make it up to you.”

“You don't need to,” Hermione assured him, about to explode just from sheer curiosity in a way only Hermione Granger was capable of.

“Well, to tell you the truth, if I had known that before…” Harry finally turned around very sheepishly, avoiding Hermione's eyes.

She gaped at the big, lump underneath his shirt for a good couple of minutes before looking back at up at Harry.

“I'm…I think I'm afraid to ask.”

“It's a fake pregnant belly…thing,” Harry explained, looking as though he wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole. “To show you that I appreciate you're carrying our baby.”

Hermione forced her mouth to press itself into a thin line.

“See, I know I haven't got the morning sickness and all that, but I reckon this at least gives me a little idea. For me to sympathize, I mean.”

Hermione clamped her mouth shut harder, using her teeth.

“And I don't know, I suppose this will make us closer in a way. You know, now that I'm able to sympathize even just a little bit,” Harry continued. “Though to be honest, Hermione, that expression on your face is starting to freak me out a little bit.”

She couldn't help it anymore. The laughter escaped like steam from a kettle, long and high-pitch. Harry jumped at the bark of amusement, and Hermione just couldn't take it anymore. Gales of laughter buckled her knees as she reached for the couch and tried to support herself. She failed, and ended up flopping down on the couch, clutching at her swollen belly.

“Oh, my God, Harry!”

“I'm glad my heartfelt gesture moves you so.” Harry said dryly, plopping down next to her.

“I - I can't breathe!” Hermione cried, practically in tears. “Oh, my - hahahaha! Oh, this can't be good for the baby…”

“Really?!” Harry leaped to her side and placed a hand on her stomach. “Breathe, Hermione, breathe - “

Hermione slapped him away. “I wasn't serious, Harry! Merlin, you are - you are too much! I can't...ahahaha!”

Harry waited a few moments, tapping his his fingers impatiently against the apparently hilarious bump until Hermione got the giggles out of her system.

“Finished?”

“Just about, yes.”

“Can you kiss me now and tell me I'm a wonderful husband? Because I seem to have misplaced my dignity and self-esteem.”

Hermione scooted over and tried to oblige, but all her attempts failed as both pregnant and fake-pregnant bellies got in the way. She tried to push Harry's to one side and craned her neck at an odd angle, but she could only successfully manage to kiss him on the cheek. Harry looked absolutely horrified for the second time that morning.

“You are a wonderful husband, Harry, but you really should have thought this through a bit more,” Hermione chuckled as she got up. “Why don't you go make us some tea and we can try the kiss again?”

Harry groaned, having been robbed of morning snog session by the bothersome bump, and trudged into their kitchen. Hermione noted the way he winced as he got up.� There was no way he would admit it so early in the game, but Hermione knew his back was starting to ache.

When Harry had gone, Hermione went over to the fireplace and tossed in some Floo powder. The flame blazed a bright green before Ron's head appeared, floating in the flames.

“Morning, Hermione!” Ron greeted her cheerfully, holding what look like a strip of bacon. Hermione didn't feel like asking.

“Don't you `morning' me, Ron Weasley!” Hermione admonished. “I saw what you and Luna did to my husband and I demand that you remove that ludicrous thing from him stomach right this instant!”

“Oh, come on, he's trying to show how much he appreciates you,” Ron reasoned. “He feels real awful about last night and he really wants to do this!”

“But it's ridiculous!” Hermione rolled her eyes. “There is no way a man can handle that, anyway. There's a reason women are the ones who carry the babies.”

“I'm sorry, what was that you said?”

Hermione swiveled around to find Harry looking quite put out behind her. He had his arms crossed over his chest and resting on top of the lump. Hermione had to practically stuff her fist in her mouth to stop from laughing again.

“Oy, mate, she's telling me a bloke can't handle pregnancy,” Ron called helpfully. Hermione shot him an evil look.

“Is she, now?” Harry raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, I didn't mean it like that…”

“How did you mean it, then?”

Hermione thought for a moment. “Okay…well, okay, I did mean it like that. But honestly, Harry, you don't need to do this.”

“No, you don't think I can do this!” Harry accused.

“Harry - “

“See you later, Ron,” Harry huffed, turning back to the kitchen. “I'm going to have breakfast.”

“So you don't want Luna to take that thing off?” Hermione squeaked.

“I'm not just doing this for us anymore,” Harry glared at Hermione. “I'm doing this for all men!”

“Attaboy, mate!” Ron whooped. “You show her!”

“I will!”

“You rock that belly like no other!”

“I am!”

“You're the most bad-arse pregnant man to ever walk the planet!”

“Definite - Oi!”

“See you later,” Ron grinned cheekily. His head disappeared and for a few seconds Harry and Hermione could have sworn they heard Luna demand ten galleons from Ron in the background.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Harry this doesn't have to be a contest. I'm flattered, really, that you wanted to do this for me, but you don't have to - “

She turned around again to find Harry gone. Hermione went into the kitchen, seduced by the smells of eggs and bacon, and found Harry standing by the sink.

“Hey, Hermione, look!”

Harry turned around. He was balancing a hot cup of tea on top of his bump like it was a small table.

“Nifty, huh?”

“Harry…oh, never mind,” Hermione sighed and poured herself some tea. She took her seat and placed her tea by her plate, and looked at Harry pointedly, expecting him to do the same. Harry refused, and sat successfully sat at the table with the tea still resting sturdily on his stomach.

“How come you never do this, Hermione?” Harry finally placed his tea on the table and replaced it with a plate of toast. He took a piece and bit into it. Hermione watched as all the stray crumbs were caught by the plate resting on the bump. “Brilliant.”

“You're an idiot,” Hermione snorted, trying to hide her amusement.

“There is a fine line between genius and madness,” Harry said sagely as he finished his toast and put the tea back in its rightful place. “I really should talk to Fred and George about this. Tummy-Top Table. They'd make a fortune.”

Hermione said nothing, instead watching as the teacup teetered and tottered in its place. Harry reached over to grab himself a serving of eggs. Just a little more to the right…a little bit more…and…there!

“AHH!” Harry cried out as the teacup tipped over and spilled the hot tea. “Bloody hell!”

Hermione went to go get her wand and soothe Harry's reddening skin.

“And this is just day one,” Hermione winked at him. “Come on, let's get you a new shirt."

- - - - - - END CHAPTARR! - - - - -

Note: This will be updated ummm, soon. Two days, I'd say. Three tops.

Beta read by adamolupin. However, I did edit it slightly without her permission **shifty eyes** so any mistakes are my own. No go read her stuff, she's cool :-D