Chapter 10: Rescue Me

Forgiveness...Hermione wanted it so badly. She wanted forgiveness from her daughter, to be forgiven for the awful way she had neglected her. She wondered if perhaps it was already too late to fight for her little girl.

Another one of those painful contractions hit her just then. Groaning and wincing in pain, she rolled over and opened her eyes. Something about this place...'It's wrong...where are the trees?' It wasn't making sense to her in the least - she wasn't where she had been, that much was for sure. But if she wasn't in the forest, where was she?

Or better yet, where had Eric taken her?

"Ah, Granger, you're awake."

It was a statement, nothing more and nothing less. But who had said it? It was a male, but what male? It was certainly not Harry who had spoken those words...

"What, you don't remember me?"

Ah. Now she knew: Eric. Her foggy, pain-filled mind has finally placed that harsh, distant voice she knew and hated so much.

"No, I only wish I didn't, you sick son-of-a-bitch," she spat at him, rage barely concealed in her eyes. "Where in hell am I?" She barely got those words out before she was biting back an anguished cry of pain.

"Hell? No, Granger. You are nowhere near hell. Yet." That cold, detatched voice...

"Well than where the bloody hell am I?"

"I already told you you aren' t in hell." He now entered her lin of sight, smirking slightly. There was also a touch of exasperation in his voice as well as amusement. "To answer your question-"

Those white walls...grey tiles flooring...so familiar...

"St. Mungos," she whispered, feeling as if she had been doused in ice water. "But why here?"

"One as smart as yourself," he leered, "should be able to figure that much out - you're in labour."

"Really. I never would have guessed," she panted as an onslaught of pain hit her like a sledge hammer.

"But I suppose you want to know why I brought you here, don't you?"

"Yeah, I just might," Hermione replied through gritted teeth as she glared at him.

"Well, that's my parental right," he stated, obviously enjoying his game.

"What the bloody hell! You are not my father!" she said coldly, gasping and doubling over yet again. "I don't know what you're playing at, but I don't buy that bullshit from you or anyone else. I know who my father is."

"Do you really, Granger? Do you know who, or rather, what, your dear mother really is?"

"Shut up, just shut up. I'm not in the bloody mood for your sick, twisted games, Hanson."

"Father," he corrected gleefully before disappearing out the door and down the hall.

"Oh, fuck you and have a shit-filled day," she whispered angrily under her breath.

That's my parental right...Do you know what your mother really is...

What had he meant? Of course she knew her mother was a muggle, but...something wasn't clicking into place just yet. With a groan, Hermione fell back against her pillows, panting slightly. She was exhasted, fed up, worn down, and totally beaten. Then a thought hit her: Rachael. Wearily she flagged down one of the passing attendants and requesed that Rachael be directed to her room, as requested by Hermione Granger.

Minutes ticked by in slow succession as she waited, hoping against hope that she would soon be rescued. Her ears strained for the slightest squeak of a shoe agains a floor tile of the click of some's shoes on the cold, grey marble. Finally she heard the door to her room open hesitantly.

"Hermione?" Rachael said softly. "Hey, what are you doing back here, kiddo?"

"Damned if I know," Hermione answered, opening her eyes and looking towards her friend. "But what I do know is I need your help."

"What for?" the nurse said, glancing nervously about the room. "Just so you know, this place is virtually controlled by Death Eaters, so I'm rather limited as to what I can do."

"I need you to send a letter," the teen gasped, wincing with pain. As it passed, she continueud, "I need you to send a letter to Dumbledore and let him know I'm here. Rachael, Hanson's going to kill me."

Rachael paled and her vividly pink hair turned almost white. "You don't seriously think-"

"Yes, yes I do," Hermione cut in, gritting her teeth against the pain. She could feel her exhaustion swept away as she got her "second wind" and alertness taking its place. "He's only after my daughter, but he doesn't yet know Jamie's a she. He thinks Jamie is a boy, an heir for Lord Voldemort. It's a long story, but Voldemort can't have his own children. Therefore he gave Hanson, who's his second in command and pratically his own son, the job of producing an heir for him - once Jamie's born, he'll kill us both because we'll both be useless to him."

The healer looked frightened as she said, "But surely he won't do that - he could always try again, couldn't he? I mean, that's no real comfort for you, but..." She shrugged her shoulders, looking lost.

"He already has," Hermione said gently, her hazel eyes shimmering with unfallen tears. "He raped one of my friends, but no one knows where she is-"

"Then how do you know she was raped if no one knows where she is?" The eccentric healer asked in puzzlement.

"Because Hanson said so - he was bragging about it." Hermione's breathing was becoming more ragged as time went on and the pain worsened.

"And you believe him?"

"About that? Yes, yes I do."

The whole time they had been talking, Rachael had been prepping for the baby. Towels were laid out and her bed had been transformed from a labour bed to a delivery bed. She left the room abruptly then, leaving Hermione to wonder why she had gone. A moment later, the healer returned, flagged by one of the hospital's birthing teams.

"Aren't you part of the team?" Hermione asked Rachael as four other healers took her place.

Rachael gave her a quick look before moving closer to her head and saying, "No, I'm just prenatel and prep; I don't do any of the deliveries."

Hermione didn't answer her as another contraction hit her, making her cry out in pain. In her pain she could have sworn she saw Dumbedore...then she blacked out.

-:- -:- -:- -:- -:- -:-

When Hermione came around, she was somewhere else...again. Rachael was on one side of her and Pomfrey was on the other. The lighting in the room she was now in wasn't as harsh as the one in her room at St. Mungos.

"I told you it was dangerous to move them!" snapped Pomfrey as she attended to Hermione.

"What other choice did we have?" asked Rachael, her forehead wrinkling with an aggravated frown.

"Poppy," came Dumbledore's voice, "neither she nor her daughter were safe safe at St. Mungos, you know that. Eric would have killed all three of them."

"Well you may have succeeded in killing the twins," Pomfrey snapped irritably. "Jennifer was weak to begin with and Jamie was at a rather delicate stage in her birth. At the very least, you've prolonged labour for poor Ms. Granger."

"Hey, how're you doing, Mione?" came the quiet voice she'd been longing to hear.

"Harry!" she exclaimed weakly, lifting her head a couple inches off her pillow to get a better view of him. She was somewhat surprised to see her first-born daughter lying in his arms. Yes, she was still undersized.

"Where am I? she asked groggily, closing her eyes to clear to fog from her vision.

"You're back at Hogwarts, the Hospital Wing, to be exact."

"What about-" Hermione's question was cut off mid-sentence as an especially strong contraction ripped its way through her. She grabbed Harry's hand, her eyes pleading. "Don't leave me!" she gasped, crying out as the pain hit its peak. Tears of fear streamed down her face as Rachael came running, closely followed by Madame Pomfrey.

"Hermione, are you okay?" she asked, worry filling her voice.

"Yeah," she said weakly, trying to fight back the tears.

Pomfrey said nothing as she did a quick check on Hermione's progress. "Another few good pushes and you'll have your daughter in your arms," Pomfrey encouraged.

"Come on, you can do it," Rachael encouraged, giving Hermione a gentle hug across her shoulders.

The young witch bit back a scream of agony and pushed with what little strength she had left, finally delivering her daughter's head. Pomfrey gently manuevered Jamie's shoulders and with a final push from Hermione, the baby made her first statement to the world:

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" she shrieked, flailing her small legs and hands. "WAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAHAAAA!"

Hermione, too exhausted to do anything but lay there and watch her second born, let Harry hold her, thus reuniting the twins. Surprisingly, upon being snuggled up next to her twin again, Jamie went silent, watching those around her with great interest.

She looked up and met Harry's bright green eyes with her own blue pair, instantly melting his heart. 'So this is my other daughter,' he thought, cuddling her against him. Perhaps she had been fathered by another man, but Harry knew that this was his daughter. 'Mine and Hermione's,' he thought with a touch of pride.

Leaning over to plant a tender kiss on Hermione's cheek, Harry whispered into her ear, "I won't ever leave you. I love you."

"I know you do," Hermione whispered back, reaching for the twins. "You better."