"Harry! Want to join us for a pint down at the pub?" Harry walked into the changing room vigorously rubbing a towel over his head. At hearing his name, he squinted through the steam billowing throughout the room. Spying a blur of likely figures at one end, Harry placed his glasses back on and walked toward his teammates.

"What was that, Ian?" Harry draped the towel he had been holding around his neck and tightened the knot of the towel tied around his waist.

"Do you want to come to the pub tonight? Kyle's girl is bringing a couple of her lovely friends along." Ian emphasized the word "lovely" with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows. As keeper of the Montrose Magpies, Ian MacGreggor considered himself a keeper of the team as well. A self-proclaimed ladies' man, he felt that no teammate should be without female companionship and was always attempting to match Harry up with someone.

Harry, however, had had his fill of meaningless encounters. For a time after his defeat of Voldemort, Harry had enjoyed his fame and taken full advantage of the many young witches willing to spend time with the "Harry Potter." It had been a giddy rush to his head. After years of torment and worry, he experienced what it was like to live without fear. He was of legal age, out of school and in no need to hurry to go to work. Looking back, he wasn't particularly proud of his behavior at that time, but he was mature enough now to realize that he had been young... a healthy eighteen year old sorely in need of affection and reaffirmation.

"Not tonight, Ian," Harry replied. "You and Kyle give my best to the ladies, but I've plans for this evening already."

He hated lying, but Ian was the type who would continue to badger him if he thought Harry would be spending the night alone. It wasn't as if Harry had sworn off women. Quite the contrary. For the last couple of years, Harry's sights had been set more on looking for a lifetime companion. At twenty-three, he was ready to find someone to settle down and raise a family with. The likes that Ian would set him up with were more interested in an evening of fun and bragging rights.

"That's my boy," Ian grinned wide and winked. The group of players chuckled, some giving 'thumbs-up' and some cat-calling. Harry rolled his eyes and turned to resume dressing.

*****

As he walked from the moist heat of the changing room out into the crisp, spring afternoon, Harry shivered. He clutched his robes closer about him, pulled out his wand and Apparated to just outside the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade.

As Hogwarts had been the only place he had ever considered home, Harry had decided to live as close to it as possible. When he had chosen settle in Hogsmeade, he'd made a decision to become involved in the local life. Stopping at the popular pub gave him an opportunity to visit with the locals that resided in his adopted town.

He'd also wanted to help create the ideal place to bring up children. In the time that he had lived there, Harry had already provided land and funds to create a summer Quidditch league, and much to Hermione's delight, had made a large donation for a local public library. His efforts had caught the attention of the press and had further endeared him to the Wizarding world.

After he placed his order, Harry chatted amicably with a couple of patrons at the next table. As he talked, his eyes drifted over the people scattered throughout the pub. With a silent sigh, he noticed that most of the occupied tables contained couples enjoying intimate conversations. After paying for his butterbeer, he headed out to enjoy the walk home.

Strolling toward the outskirts of the village, Harry stopped to open a shop door for a young witch who was carrying a baby and holding the hand of a toddler. His thoughts returned to his own desires for a family and the search for that elusive witch who would be the love of his life. He was not yet completely discouraged, but was beginning to wonder if there really was a perfect match out there for him. He had already gone out with quite a number of eligible witches but had found that most were either intimidated by him or were just interested in his celebrity.

As he was not concerned with blood purity, he had even occasionally ventured into the Muggle world where his name had no meaning. Ron had once teased him of having run through all the eligible witches: "Since you've shagged all the witches, mate, it's no wonder you have to look to the Muggles for a virgin to marry!" At the time, Harry had laughed with Ron but was a little bothered by the comment as well.

It was true that he'd had considerable sexual experience, but Harry hoped his friend didn't consider him a cad. In recent years, his exploits were few and far between. Even before, he had never once been the one to make the proposition. All of his encounters were instigated by the woman and he had always taken care to ensure that she had enjoyed herself as much as he. Given his age, he thought that was saying something. At least he wasn't selfish.

When Harry arrived home, he headed straight to his kitchen to greet Hedwig. He found her sitting on her perch glaring balefully at the table and clicking her beak. "Hello girl, what's the matter?" Harry's gaze followed hers toward the table. Perched on the back of a chair was a large brown screech owl that Harry didn't recognize. Harry approached the owl to retrieve the parchment tied to its leg. He would have offered the strange owl a treat had it not taken off as soon as Harry had freed it of its burden.

Intent on preparing a longed-for cup of tea, Harry dropped the parchment onto his table next to an unopened letter from Ron. Once he had a hot mug in his hands, he settled down at the table and opened the letter from Ron.

Harry,

How are things going? Hermione and I got back from our holiday in Austria early yesterday. We had a great time! We do need to get together soon so you can have the trousers bored off you with all the pictures and details.

Speaking of getting together, we had dinner with the folks last night. They really miss you, mate. Mum wanted me to make sure I reminded you of the monthly Weasley family supper - Sunday after next. She specifically said to tell you that you are more than welcome to bring a guest with you. The more the merrier!

As for more Weasleys, did you know that Bill and Fleur are expecting their fifth baby? Hermione's worried that I have plans to try to compete for the most grandchildren. Ha! I guess Ginny will be joining in the race soon, though. She and Mark announced last night that they are engaged. You remember meeting Mark, don't you? He's the bloke who was with Ginny at that game you played against Puddlemere. Nice enough fellow.

Hermione's suggested that you to make a weekend of it and come down Saturday before the dinner and stay with us. It would be a great time for us to catch up!

If I don't talk to you before, I'll see you at the game this Friday. I've got ten galleons riding on Montrose so don't you dare let those Wasps win!

Ron

Harry finished the letter with wistful smile. He adored the Weasley family and spent as much time as he could with them. Lately, though, he couldn't help feeling a little out of place when he visited. For the last couple of years, he had been the only one without a companion at the gatherings. Even Ginny, who was younger than he, had been accompanied by her boyfriend. It appeared now that Ginny and her boyfriend were going to make it official. Harry was happy for her, of course. Although he didn't know Mark well, he did seem like a descent bloke, but Harry personally felt that no guy was really good enough for Ginny. He'd always attributed it to "brotherly" protectiveness, but if Ginny's real brothers approved, who was he to say anything different?

Harry laid Ron's letter aside thinking that this time he just might try to find someone to go with him to the Weasleys. He turned his attention to the parchment. Carefully breaking the seal, he unrolled it. Settling back into the chair with his tea, he began reading.

Harry Potter,

I'm afraid that I can't tell you who I am, but rest assured that you do know of me. You know my whole family, as a matter of fact. You destroyed nearly all of them in your...quest to stop the Dark Lord. Those of us who are left are living in a ruined state, and it's all thanks to you.

It must give you great pleasure to know that you have destroyed so many lives. But the so-called "Savior" of the Wizarding world has a great many things to answer for. And answer you will - that is my promise to you. I could just kill you, but that would be too quick...too merciful. You need to suffer as I've suffered. I have made it my personal goal in life to destroy you and everything that brings you joy and fill your life with heartache, just as you have mine.

I would imagine you are somewhat at a loss with having no one to save for so long. We all know that you have a thing for playing the savior. This Messianic complex of yours will be your downfall, Potter. Well, circumstances require me to remedy that for you and provide you with the opportunity to wallow in your attention-seeking vanity one more time. The beauty of my plan is that I need do nothing more than I already have. My role is finished. Yet every moment of every day, your life will be filled with pain and sorrow. And it will be by your own hand.

Be at the edge of Hogsmeade in front of the Shrieking Shack at precisely 11:00 p.m. tonight. In tribute to the great Harry Potter, a Muggle virgin will be delivered as a sacrifice to you. As the guest of honor, you need not feel threatened by the likes of me. The true danger has always been and will always be, from you. ~Connubium Conceptio~

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

One of Your Many Victims

Harry's brow furrowed deeply. He slowly leaned forward and placed his teacup back on the table. Reaching into his robes and withdrawing his wand, he pointed it at the fireplace at the edge of the kitchen, "Incendio!" He rose and moved to the magical fire now crackling energetically. Removing a pinch of powder from a box on the mantle, Harry threw the sparkling grains onto the fire. He knelt on the hearth, placed his head into the emerald green flames and called out, "Dumbledore's Office, Hogwarts."

When Harry felt his head stop spinning, he opened his eyes and spied his former headmaster and now friend sitting behind his large desk. "Professor--"

"Harry, my boy, how many times have I told you to call me Albus?" Smiling enigmatically, Professor Dumbledore stood and moved toward his fireplace.

"About as many times as I've replied that I cannot." Harry smiled warmly at the man in front of him. "We've had this discussion a hundred times."

"I daresay," Dumbledore chuckled softly.

Harry wasted no time and immediately asked, "May I come to see you? I have something I'd like your opinion on."

"Please do," replied Dumbledore.

Harry nodded and said, "I'll be right there." Pulling back out of the fireplace, Harry stood up and took a larger pinch of Floo powder from the mantle. He tossed the powder into the fire causing the flames to flare up higher than before. Stepping into them, he called out his destination.

When Harry stepped out of the fire, he was greeted with a gentle pat on his shoulder. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he motioned toward the chair in front of his desk. "What can I do for you?"

Harry took the offered seat and watched Dumbledore return to his own behind the desk. "I received this today," he said as he handed the parchment over to Dumbledore. "I'm not sure what to make of it."

As he watched Dumbledore's eyes travel over the words on the parchment, a frown slowly formed on the wizened face. Dumbledore stood quickly and moved to a set of shelves filled with ancient tomes. Dumbledore selected a very large volume from one of the lower shelves, his long beard sweeping the floor as he bent, before rising and laying it carefully on a pedestal stand. As he rifled through the pages, Dumbledore muttered softly to himself. Harry shifted nervously and his anxiety began to increase.

Dumbledore's murmuring stopped suddenly and he looked over the top of his spectacles at Harry. He quickly returned to reading the passage he had selected and his mumbling continued. After what seemed a half hour, Dumbledore finally closed the book and returned to his seat. Smiling genially at Harry, he stated, "You're much more patient than you used to be."

Harry leaned forward in his seat. "I confess my patience is waning right about now."

Dumbledore heaved a sigh. "Well, I shan't keep you waiting any longer. The Latin phrase at the end of the letter, Connubium Conceptio... it is an ancient spell."

"I gathered that," Harry said, a bit sarcastically. Chagrined at his tone, he continued in a more conciliatory manner. "What is it a spell for?"

"It was used, a very, very long time ago, in arranged marriages to ensure consummation and guarantee procreation."

Harry had to think for a minute on what Dumbledore had said. "You mean..." Harry's eyes widened as he comprehended, "but how?"

"On the wedding day, the spell would be performed on the bride. During the binding portion of the wedding ceremony, the spell would then encompass the groom. The onus of the spell dictated that the marriage had to be consummated before midnight that night or the couple would die. They were then obligated to have relations at least once every twenty-four hours thereafter or face death. Upon conception, the spell would be broken."

Mentally sifting through all that Dumbledore had said, Harry was still confused. "Why would anyone want to force a couple to have a baby under threat of death?"

"Harry, I cannot claim to understand why people do what they do. All I can tell you is that Wizarding purity has been the concern of a few select families throughout the ages. Seeing that full-blooded wizards and witches reproduced together ensured the family line."

Harry said with distaste, "Sounds like something the Malfoys would have done."

"Indeed."

"But, Professor," Harry said, rubbing his brow in frustration, "What's all this have to do with me? I'm not married or even seeing anyone."

Dumbledore quirked an eyebrow with interest, "Not seeing anyone, are you, Harry?"

"Well... Not steady. I mean, I have been out with women... but there's no one I'm serious about."

"Hmmm." Dumbledore paused, and Harry wondered what his friend was getting at. "Harry... I have to ask you... is there anyway, that you know of... that someone might... procure a sample of your... ahem... semen?"

"What?!" Harry flushed a bright red. "Why do you ask?"

"The incantation, Connubium Conceptio, is only a part of how this spell was normally used." Dumbledore paused, appearing as though he were choosing his words with great care. "In order to specify which wizard a witch needed to mate with, the incantation was followed by administering a potion containing a small sample of semen from the groom. Otherwise, the incantation alone would have only required the bride to have relations with someone."

There was a moment's pause as the puzzle pieces began to connect in Harry's brain. "Are you suggesting," Harry whispered, "that someone has placed this spell on some Muggle woman and used my... er... semen to make sure it had to be with me?"

"It looks to be a possibility. At least, it appears that's what the author of this letter wants us to believe. That's why I've asked you about the sample, Harry."

"But would this spell even work on a Muggle?"

"Harry, physiologically speaking, there isn't much difference between a Muggle woman and a witch. As you will recall, the Death Eaters used to take full advantage of that in their Muggle torture. Avada Kedavra works just the same on Muggles."

"Of course... I didn't think." Harry rubbed at the ache that had started to grow in his temple, "As for the... sample. I don't know. I mean... it's not like I hand the stuff out in little bottles..." He glanced up and saw Dumbledore sitting quietly, peering at him over his half-moon spectacles. The man's patience was maddening but Harry had to admit it gave him the necessary time to think through the possibilities. "I suppose... I am... um..." Harry paused looking sheepishly at Dumbledore while choosing his words, "with Muggle women occasionally. I limit myself to Muggle protection then. I mean... I can't exactly pull my wand out to perform a contraceptive spell."

"I see," Dumbledore replied non-plused.

"Do you really think someone would go searching through a rubbish bin for a discarded condom?"

"I am always amazed at the lengths that some people will go to," Dumbledore mused. "So, we must assume that a potion was used."

"But Professor, I really still don't understand how this can affect me." Harry heaved an exasperated sigh, "I'm not marrying some unknown Muggle woman. What's the point of all this?"

"Well, Harry... it does and it doesn't affect you. First, understand that I said this spell was used in arranged marriages. However, marriage is not a requirement for the spell. This spell could be performed on any witch... or woman, as the case may be. The binding spell used in the marriage ceremony only served to bind the groom to the spell." Dumbledore looked at Harry pointedly, "If no marriage was performed, the wizard would face no danger by not fulfilling the terms of the spell."

"But the witch..."

"Would still be bound and would die if she didn't join with the specified male. Or any male, if no potion was administered. That is why I say that you are and are not affected. If indeed some Muggle woman has been bound by this spell, and if she were given a potion identifying you... then, she will die if she does not join with you before midnight. You, on the other hand, are not affected by the spell and are in no danger."

Harry sat stunned as the ramifications of this letter became clearer. "As if I'd let someone die if I could stop it." Harry lean back into his chair. "This is really sick..." he groaned. "...Save a woman's life by shagging her?"

"I'd have to agree with you." Dumbledore's shoulders sagged and he took a deep breath, "But, I am afraid that it does get worse."

Harry looked up at him sharply. "Worse? How?"

"The letter says the woman will arrive at 11:00 p.m., Harry. You've only until midnight. That's one hour to explain to a Muggle about our world, at least explain enough to convince her of the spell and obtain her consent. And then, of course, to perform the act."

"Sweet Merlin... that's not enough time," Harry breathed. "I'm not sure any amount of time would be enough, but one hour?" He slumped further into the chair. "What am I going to do?"

Dumbledore's gaze pinned Harry. "You don't have to do anything. We don't even know if this letter is genuine."

Harry jumped up out of his chair and paced in front of the desk. "We can't take the chance that it's not, and I can't just stand by and let someone die." His dragged his fingers nervously through his hair. "I can't and I won't."

"I didn't think you would," Dumbledore replied calmly. "I can think of only one option, and it's not pleasant."

"What? What is it?" Harry pleaded desperately.

"Stupefy, then explain afterward."

Harry looked at Dumbledore incredulously. "You're joking... Shag a stunned woman... without her consent? That's... that's rape."

Dumbledore shrugged in defeat. "I fear I am at a loss for an alternative solution."

Harry collapsed back into his chair and dropped his head into his hands. Rape. He'd have to be a rapist. The word alone made Harry feel sick and he groaned aloud. His head throbbed as the thoughts of what he would have to do whirled in his head. He desperately combed through his mind seeking an alternative, any solution to this nightmare. He felt the bile rise in his throat as again and again he came to the same conclusion: he had no choice.

"There is one more thing you need to consider," Dumbledore continued. "I would need to confer with Professor Flitwick to be sure, but I believe if you go through with this, then you will be subjecting yourself to at least some affects of the spell."

Harry raised his head enough to peer at Dumbledore. "What do you mean?"

"The sexual act, itself, is a form of binding. If you are to have sex with this woman, I suspect that you will be binding with her enough to allow the spell to encompass you. It might not have the same power as the marriage binding, but it may be enough to endanger your health should you not be able to fulfill the obligations of the spell."

Harry closed his eyes and sighed. "That doesn't matter... if those obligations, as you so delicately put it, go unfulfilled... she'll die. I can't let that happen."

Dumbledore rose and retrieved a slim book from his bookcase. After handing it to Harry, he placed his hand sympathetically on Harry's shoulder. "There are some spells in this you might find useful. As distasteful as it is, there are some practical matters to be considered. I believe you'll find something to help prepare the woman for you. And, as I imagine your dislike for this situation might interfere with your ability, there is a spell that will help you as well."

Harry looked over his shoulder and noticed a rare blush on Dumbledore's cheeks. "I appreciate your help, Professor."

"In the meantime, if you will allow me to bring Professor Flitwick into your confidence, I would like to begin a thorough search for a counter for this spell."

"Of course..." Harry's stomach sank even further as new problems surfaced into his mind. "Because of the Statute of Secrecy, will we need to report this to the Ministry? We'll need to involve the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as well, won't we... to search for whoever did this?" Harry felt like he was going to be sick.

Dumbledore looked at Harry very seriously, "I think it is most important to have as few people aware of this situation as possible. Using a spell of this nature is considered heinous by today's standards. I'm sure you'll want to keep your acquiescence private for now. I'll contact a few trusted members from the Order to begin an investigation into the source of the letter, but we need to keep this as quiet as we can, for now." He patted Harry's shoulder sympathetically. "Let's take this one step at a time. Now go home, Harry. You've a few hours left before eleven o'clock. Try to relax. You're not in this alone... we'll work it all out."

Harry rose slowly and nodded. "Thank you, Professor."