“Can I get pregnant from this?”
 
Severus snorted loudly, while looking at Harry as though he were a complete imbecile.
 
“In case you haven’t noticed, Potter, you are a man. Your first clue should have been that you have a penis.”
 
Harry whacked him on the arm even as his hips moved against the older man.
 
“Obviously, Severus, I am fairly familiar with that part of my anatomy. I just wondered if being a wizard somehow, I don’t know, changed things.”
 
“You think that simply because you can do magic that you have some hidden womb? Do you really think that having your rectum flooded with semen could in any way, shape, or form, result in the conception of a child?”
 
Harry slid his hand down Severus’ flank, urging him on. “Ah, no, I guess not.”
 
“Where do you get these ideas?”
 
“They just, ah, pop into my head sometimes. So wizards don’t get pregnant at all? No exotic potions for that? No spells to provide the necessary equipment?”
 
Severus growled as he came, pressed tight against Harry’s warmth.
 
“For the last time, wizards do not get pregnant. There is no single potion, spell, curse, or medical procedure which would enable you to bear a child.”
 
“Okay, okay, no need to get so worked up over it.”
 
“Were you wishing to change nappies and have partially digested lactation byproducts spewed over your clothing? If so, go visit some of your friends. There are a multitude of babies whose parents would be only too happy to have someone else care for them.”
 
“Ah, that doesn’t actually sound too appealing, Severus. I just, um, well, I’ve been having these aches in my abdomen, and last night I couldn’t go to sleep until I’d had some of those great little sashimi platters, you know, with all the wasabi on them. And lately when you lick my nipples, it’s almost painful. But I won’t worry about it any more. If wizards can’t get pregnant, then I’m sure it’s just some strange ailment that will pass.”
 
Severus dropped his head down onto Harry’s chest, a loud groan coming from him.
 
“Tell me you haven’t been anywhere near the fertility potions that I keep on the shelf with the overstocks for Poppy.”
 
Harry shook his head, frowning. “Ah, I don’t think so. You told me to take the blue nutritive potion the month before last to help make up the weight I lost when that stomach bug went ‘round.”
 
Severus glared at him. “No, I did not. I clearly told you to take the nutritive potion in the blue vial, not the blue potion in the clear vial.”
 
“So, I took a fertility potion by mistake. For a week. You said I couldn’t get pregnant, so no worries there, right?”
 
Severus pulled away from Harry and collapsed onto his back, one hand over his eyes. “A potion by itself would not be enough. It would have to be activated by a charm, and you would have to have fresh semen in your body.”
 
Harry blushed brightly, avoiding looking at Severus.
 
“What did you do?”
 
“Hey, it’s not my fault! Hermione and Ron were having trouble conceiving, so I went with Hermione for moral support. She wanted me to hold her hand while the fertility mediwitch performed the spell. She checked that Hermione had had sex that morning, and I remember thinking that you probably had me bent over the kitchen table while Hermione and Ron were going at it.”
 
“Let me see if I understand this. You mistakenly consumed a fertility potion for a week. During that week, we had morning sex, after which you accompianied Mrs. Weasley to an appointment where you were exposed to a spell to ensure conception. Did I miss anything?”
 
“Ah, no, don’t think so.”
 
“Well, Congratulations, Harry. It seems we shall be parents in approximately seven months.” He drew his husband into his arms and kissed him. He shouldn’t have been surprised, really. Somehow, things like this always happened to Harry.
 
“It could only happen to you, love.”
 
Harry smiled into Severus’ chest. “Hey, at least life with me is never boring.”
 
Severus laughed as he stroked Harry’s back. “No, Harry, that is one thing it could never be.”

Bien que la nouvelle cathédrale soit un exemple en matière d'architecture gothique, on trouve néanmoins quelques surprises, notamment un astronaute, trace laissée par le dernier restaurateur, et une glace!

Aline Maginot, spécialiste en limites à ne pas franchir :