Author's Note: Voila!
Chapter 3: Consequences
Nearly three weeks had passed since her encounter with the hunters. The day after her surprise return to England she had gone into her boss's office and gave him a report on her findings, but had left out her encounter with Dean for obvious reasons. Drinking while on the metaphorical clock was bad enough, add exposing magic to a Muggle and she would be in serious trouble.
She was currently in her cubical trying desperately to finish her tea. Something in her dinner last night wasn't sitting well, and was threatening to make a repeat performance. "Note to self; two day old Chinese take out is a bad idea," she said to nobody in particular.
Taking a deep breath she raised her cup to her lips. She took a tentative sip. Didn't her body know that ginger was supposed to be calming to the stomach? The lukewarm liquid slid down her tongue. Hermione let out a pitiful sigh when it didn't make the return journey.
She heard a commotion and lifted her head to gaze over the walls of the cubicles. Harry's messy black hair was the first thing she spotted. By his course she could tell he was on the way to her desk.
Hermione made quick work of vanishing her tea and shuffling her papers around to appear orderly. When she was the head girl she had been studious and organized but something changed. Truth be told Hermione can become a bit of a pack rat.
Just as she was throwing away her last candy bar wrapper he rounded the final corner.
Hermione quickly realized her friend was carrying a tray of fresh doughnuts. Her nausea reared it ugly head. This time she couldn't push it away. Harry's eyes grew wide as Hermione reached for her rubbish bin before emptying her stomach.
Harry awkwardly patted her back as she retched. The pressure was awful. It reminded Hermione of someone attempting to restore circulation to an amputated limp.
"You know," Hermione started once her stomach settled, "for the savior of the Wizarding war your bedside manner really leaves something to be desired."
Harry chuckled wryly. "Sorry, but they didn't teach that in save the world 101."
Hermione grabbed a wand and vanished the mess she made in the bin. With another flick of her wand her tea cup was filled with fresh water and she took a large drink.
"You okay, Hermione?" Harry asked tentatively. He spun around until he found a spare desk chair and rolled it over to join Hermione in her cubicle.
"Bad general tso, I think," Hermione grumbled. Her stomach gave another flip when Harry set the plate down too close. Hermione still had her wand in her hand, so vanishing the baked goods was easy.
Harry gave an indignant grunt. "What was that for?" He cried as he reached for the empty plate.
"I didn't think you would want to see me hurl again," she whispered. Taking a final deep breath, she spun her chair around. "What brings you here, Harry?"
"I was going to offer you a doughnut," Harry said with a laugh. When Hermione grimaced he continued, "but I can see now that was a bad idea."
Hermione nodded. This was the second time in a week that she had fallen ill. At first she thought it was the flu, but it only lasted a day or so. Now this? Hermione was a reasonable woman. She knew that there were other alternatives. She just didn't think they could be a reality.
"Are you planning to see Ginny later?" Hermione asked her friend quietly. Harry raised a brow before inclining his head yes. "Think you could send her down?"
"Of course, Hermione," Harry said with a smile. With a disheartened look he grabbed the empty plate and left Hermione alone with her thoughts.
Hermione shook her curls violently. She needed to get back to work, her tummy ache could wait.
Work was piling up. The remaining death eaters were still causing a ruckus. Just last month they had seemingly fled the UK. That was why Hermione was in the United States in the first place. They had yet to find them, but that didn't mean they would stop looking.
Hermione had an eye on the clock all day. It was nearing five o'clock and Hermione had yet to see Ginny. The nausea had passed, which was a relief. Finally at five to five Ginny bounced down to see her friend.
"What's up, Herm?" Her friend asked joyfully.
Hermione took a deep breath. While she was almost certain that her nausea was merely food related, she still wanted to check on the other alternatives. "Will you come with me to St. Mungo's?"
Ginny cocked her head to the side. "Uh, yeah, sure," Ginny said slowly. "Anything in particular you have to go for?"
Hermione waved a hand. She didn't want to worry her friend. "Just a check up. I just hate hospitals, you know?"
Ginny gave an understanding smile and held out a hand. "Well, let's get to it."
Hermione made quick work of collecting her belongings. One final look at her desk left the young woman discouraged, but she just didn't have the energy to worry about it now. Tidying up was on the top of her 'to do' list.
The walk through the Ministry of Magic was a slow one, as it was the end of the work day and all the witches and wizards were eager to get home. After a few curse words and a couple of well placed shoves the two witches reached the floo network. Generally flooing in pairs was ill advised, but they were tired of the crowd. In a roar of green flames they were gone.
Hermione breathed out a sigh when she saw the empty lobby of the hospital. Ginny looped an arm through hers and guided the other witch to the front desk.
"Hello. My friend here would like to see a healer," Ginny said with a polite smile.
The young woman behind the desk lifted her gaze to look at the two women. "Concerning?" She asked as she pulled out a magical laptop. Apparently the hospital had discovered the ease that Muggle electronics provided.
"Just a check up," Hermione said sweetly.
"Concerning?" the receptionist asked again not unkindly. Hermione tried not to get annoyed at the poor girl. It wasn't her fault that Hermione didn't want to say the reason out loud.
"Uh, that's rather personal. Really, any healer would do," Hermione said with a tight smile. She caught an odd look from Ginny out of the corner of her eye, but choose to ignore it.
"Uh, okay miss. If you could just have a seat I will see who I available." The receptionist preceded to shoo the women away and type furiously on the laptop.
Hermione silently left the desk and plopped herself into one of the uncomfortable chairs. Modern furniture should be added to the things she hated. What was so wrong about an over stuffed armchair?
"Do you want to tell me what this is all about?" Ginny asked her friend. Hermione could see the concern that colored her friends features.
"I don't think it's a big deal. Really," Hermione said slowly. "The thing is, uh, I'm late," she finished lamely.
"Late?" Ginny said in confusion. It only took a moment for her to realize her friends meaning. "Oh bugger. Late?"
Hermione pursed her lips. "Yup, Late."
"Aren't you on the potion?" Ginny asked lowly. She looked around, afraid of being overheard.
"Of course I am, Gin. That's why I don't think it's that big of a deal. I would just feel better if I knew for sure," Hermione said lamely. She could see the receptionist wave them over and stood. "Let's just get this over with."
Ginny followed mutely as they were led into an examination room.
The room, like any hospital room, was starchy and white. There was a smell of antiseptic in the air that didn't sit right with the brunette. "The healer will be right with you," she said with a tired smile. Poor girl, working the late shift couldn't be fun.
Hermione, not wanting to sit on the examination table, chose to occupy the Healer's swivel stool. They always had a way of reminding her of her parents. Ginny rolled her eyes and sat on the table.
"What would you do if you were, you know?" Ginny asked after a minute of silence.
Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. I mean I always wanted kids, but that would mean having to find him."
Dean. His name hung in the air like a bad smell. Hermione liked to pretend he didn't exist, only because what happened with him made her feel foolish. All it took to bring him back to her brain, however, was sleep. Apparently her body didn't want to let her forget.
Ginny opened her mouth, but was stalled by the sound of the door opening. Hermione looked up to see her healer and cursed. "Fuck. Really? Just my bloody luck."
"Nice to see you again Granger. Weasley," Draco Malfoy said to each of them in turn. Hermione knew she should get out of his chair, but found herself too shocked to move.
"You're a Healer, Malfoy?" Hermione asked incredulously.
"That's what my name tag says," he told them dryly as he flicked said name tag with a finger. "So what seems to be the problem. Melanie said it was something personal?"
Hermione gulped. The last thing she wanted was to tell her former enemy that she thought she might be up the duff. She had, of course, heard of his trial after the war. He had been cleared of all charges, in exchange for giving up as much information on the other Death Eaters as he could.
Many thought he had gotten off easy. Hermione wasn't so sure. Harry had told her about the night on the astronomy tower and she had seen his pain at the sight of her being tortured in his home. However, just because she didn't think he was guilty didn't mean she liked him.
"I just need a test done," Hermione said lamely. Draco raised a brow. "Nothing invasive."
"What is this test?" He asked when she didn't give any more information.
Hermione shifted awkwardly. Maybe she could just leave. There's no way it was possible anyway. "Oh never mind. It's silly. Let's go, Gin."
The red head let out an exasperated sigh. "Just tell him, Herm!"
"I, uh, need a test," she said slowly. "to see if I might possibly be pregnant?"
Draco tried to hide his shocked look. He cleared his throat to mask it, but Hermione saw.
"It's highly unlikely. I'm on the potion," Hermione said awkwardly. She kept her gaze down. She found it was easier to pretend she wasn't talking to Draco Malfoy if she couldn't see his blonde hair.
"Well, okay. Why don't you trade places with Miss Weasley and roll up your shirt?" He said after regaining his composure.
Hermione did as she was told. Ginny stood by her side and grabbed her hand. She gave it a tight squeeze as Draco approached.
Sweat started to bead on her forehead. It's not possible. It's not possible. It's not possible she thought to herself repeatedly.
Draco gave her a nervous smile before touching his wand to her stomach, just below her bellybutton. He whispered a spell under his breath and a cool sensation began to spread through her body.
Once the incantation was completed he pulled his wand away slowly, drawing out a wisp of red smoke. "This spell is a little bit similar to the Muggle pregnancy test. I'm extracting just a little bit of blood," he explained before pulling over a small metal tray.
With a steady hand he help his wand over the tray. "As soon as I release the sample it will pass through this plate. The color that comes out the other side will determine if you are pregnant or not. Blue and you're not, pink if you are."
Draco turned to face her, as if waiting for the all clear. Hermione sat up and gave a small nod. With bated breath all three occupants watched the smokey sample of blood fall through the air. It passed through the plate, before falling down the other side.
It was pink.
Hermione felt her breath leave her body. "How is this possible? I'm on the potion," Hermione asked Draco in a whisper.
Draco, ever the professional, took a seat on the swivel stool. "Well, there are a couple of explanations. Are you taking it every day, at the same time?" Hermione nodded. "Are you home brewing it or buying it from the apothecary?"
"Home-Home brew, but I had extensive potion training during the Auror program," Hermione explained. "I trust in my abilities."
Draco's smile loosened. "I believe you. Now the only other option is a little bit touchy. Are you aware of who the father of your child is?"
Hermione wanted to act offended, but she didn't. It was a modern world after all. "Yes, I do."
"Is he a muggle?" Draco asked further. Hermione raised a brow at the odd question, but nodded again. "Therein lies the problem. For some reason, we've found that the potion doesn't work at it's fullest when used for Magical/Muggle procreation."
"Doesn't work at it's fullest? Don't you think that is something you healers should write on the fucking bottle?" Hermione seethed quietly.
Draco looked sheepish as he discreetly scooted his chair back. "We've been hoping to pinpoint the cause before alerting the public. We think it may have something to do with the lack of magical blood. The problem is increased with alcohol use."
"Oh bloody fucking hell. This can't be happening. He's going to kill me," Hermione mumbled to herself as she pulled at her shirt.
"Who's going to kill you?" Draco questioned. Hermione merely kept muttering, so he turned his gaze on Ginny. "Who's going to kill her?"
"The father. He's not really a fan of witches," Ginny said quietly. Hermione wasn't paying them any mind. She figured she could tell Draco since they had doctor-patient confidentiality on their hands. "Hermione didn't realize it, but she was sleeping with an American hunter."
The blonde doctor's eyes bulged. "So they exist? I read an article about it in The Quibbler but thought it was just Loony Lovegood's rambling."
"They do, but now we have to find him," Ginny mused more to herself than anyone else.
Draco seemed to be contemplating a response before he noticed that Hermione was crying silent tears. "I'm willing to help, you know."
Both women turned to him with matched expressions of awe.
"Granger, I might not like you, but you are now my patient. It is my duty as a doctor to make sure you're safe. Or whatever," he explained with a smirk. "Plus, I'm interested to see what kind of American you can reel in with that bushy hair of yours."
Hermione couldn't help but laugh at his attempt of lightening the mood. "Thanks Malfoy. That strangely makes me feel better."
Her hand was trembling but she managed to awkwardly pat his arm.
Hermione took a couple deep breaths to calm herself before standing and straightening herself. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get this over with." With a sharp nod she left the room, forcing the two to follow.