Madame Pomfrey discharged Hermione from the hospital wing later on that afternoon, and Hermione found herself walking in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. Classes were over - she had missed Arithmancy, Transfiguration and Charms. Surprisingly, none of this seem to concern her in the slightest. Looking out of the large windows along the corridor as she passed them, Hermione saw the sky already starting to fade into orange and yellow, even though it was only ten past five. Daylight was beginning to minimise, and the glow of the torches in their brackets on the limestone walls gave a thick atmoshperic feel to her surroundings.

Brushing her hair from her face, she turned an immediate left and went down another corridor leading to the Charms rooms, where she would have spent the last hour of the school day had it not been for the mornings' Potion class' events. A heavy surge of worry filled her as she reminded herself yet again that everyone knew she had a child - well, everyone who was in that class, hopefully. She had a sickenning feeling that the Slytherins might have passed round the information to the rest of the school. If that was the case, then she would have to avoid them as best she could.

Passing an upward flight of steps and heading down another, Hermione came to notice a group of fourth-year Ravenclaws with their heads together in a corner. None of them seemed to have noticed her presence, and Hermione fought against the urge to reprimand them for dawlding in the corridors. She seemed to have forgotten her Head duties in the constant rush of other things that needed doing. As she neared them, she overheard a few snippets of their conversation, with upsetting results.

"...yeah, I know! I mean, I don't know if it's true, that's just what Fletchley said" said one voice.

"Fletchley isn't always reliable to tell the truth, Hilda" came another.

"Hermione Granger, as well! Who would have guessed she had a kid cooped up in this school? She's Head Girl, For God's Sake!"

"And McGonagall didn't even punish her for it, did she? Who knows, she might even have another one on the way!"

Her heart raced, thumping madly against her ribs like a bongo drum. She felt ill again. So, she was right. The Slytherins had been spreading the news about her. Great, just what she needed. And now, these girls...well, she couldn't believe it. Thanks to the Slytherins, soon enough the whole school would think she was a loser, an outcast, for being a teenage mother...

By some unintentional reason, she found herself turning off from the corridor leading up to the Tower, and heading back up a flight of steps instead. She suddenly didn't want to go there any more. If the Ravenclaws' comments were anything to go on, then the Gryffindor's reactions would be terrifying. Their remarks alone brought a heavy, queasy feeling to her stomach. She felt sharp tears pricking her eyes, though she did not know why she wanted to cry. Steering herself on, she went along the highly-polished Staff Corridor, were most of the teachers' offices were, and then along another which took her to the base of the stairs going up to the Heads Common Room. Hermione had learnt that there was more ways than one to reach the Common Room.

She reached the sloid, dark oak door of the Common Room, raised her fist ready to knock, then decided to just open the door instead. She sincerely hoped that Draco was in, and not out somewhere in the grounds with his 'friends', who he didn't really like at all but went around with anyway. Turning the doorknob, she pushed the door open, with difficulty, feeling weaker now that she had done before. Stepping in, she saw that the main room was empty, except for a pile of books on the table that Hermione had left there a few days ago, and some screwed-up pieces of parchment.

Shutting the door behind her, she dropped her bag onto the crimson carpet by the sofa. Looking up, she saw that Draco's bedroom door was open, but could not see if he was there. She decided to go up and see for herself. She climbed the short flight of steps, crossed the landing, and went into the room.

It looked like a bomb had exploded in there. Hermione looked around, astonished. Surely it hadn't looked like this last time she saw it? There was no sign of Draco himself anywhere. Anielle was fast asleep in her cot - she could hear her slow, heavy breathing as she slept, tiny hands curled into fists. Ignoring the constant nausea she felt inside, she strode over to the bathroom door, which was open. She peered round the door, but the room was empty. She noticed that the medicine cabinet above the sink had been emptied out, its contents piled up on the toilet tank. Hermione frowned. What had been going on in here?

Footsteps sounding behind her distracted her from her thoughts. She whirled round, making Draco, who was standing behind her, jump. She cracked a smile when she saw the look on his face.

"Christ, Hermione! Don't do that!" he said darkly, but Hermione knew he was joking, because the next minute he laughed. She walked over to him, her face an expression of upset and worry. He knew what was going through her mind.

Leaning her head against his chest, tears pricked at her eyes. She sniffed hard, and he didn't pull away, just enveloped her with his arms. How come all the good things in her life had to be spoilt? She thought of the recurring visions, the sickness, the feeling of anxiety that they would be found out...and know, the Parenthood Potion had been the tip of the iceberg. As the girls' words came back to her, she found herself clinging to the fabric of his robes tightly, and that her cheeks were wet. She did not know how long she had been crying, but she wasn't standing up any more. Instead, she was sitting on Draco's bed, and he still had his arms around her.

"What are we going to do?" she whispered hoarsely, her voice a teary squeak. He reached up to wipe a tear from her eyes.

"It's my fault. I should have stopped you from taking that potion" was his only reply. Hermione shook her head fiercely. She wouldn't let him take the blame for this, no way.

"It's not your fault. It could have happened to anyone" she said.

"Yes, but it happened to you, to us. I should have done something" he answered. Fresh tears fell down her face.

"Why has everything gone wrong?" she exclaimed, frustrated, upset. "Everyone knows, and now girls from other houses are saying horrible things about me" she cried, looping her arms around his neck and crying into his shoulder. He only tightened his hold on her.

"There's something else" he said reluctantly. "I have a good idea who did it, and I just know it was her" he said. Hermione looked up, and her eyes met his own blue-grey pair. With her sleeve, she wiped her eyes carefully.

"I've looked everywhere, and I just can't find it...I can't find Anielle's birth certificate. The genuine one, the one I hid away" he said. Hermione's eyes widened.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have let anyone in, but Pansy was here earlier...I think it was her. She went upstairs" he said. His eyes were dark with apology, with self-disappoiment and shame. Hermione looked at him, long and hard, staring right into his eyes.

Then her tears dried up, and her mouth found his, and they were kissing, hard and passionate. He'd moved his hands from her waist to her back and up her school shirt. Her whole body shook and tingled with the warm touch of his fingertips against her cool skin, and she rested her hand on his belt buckle as they stayed, entwined, for she didn't know how long. It was only when they broke apart, lost for words and gasping for breath, did she realise how she really felt. She loved him.

She reached up to sweep his long fringe from his eyes, and her fingers stopped short. There, under the whorls of her fingertips, was a dark, angry bruise on the right hand side of his forehead.

"Draco..." she gasped. He lowered his hands by his sides.

"Pansy did it, when she was here. Said I deserved it" he said forlornly, pulling away from her touch. His fringe fell back, hiding the bruise, the evidence, of what appeared to Hermione to be a pretty hurtful afternoon. Her heart lurched, and she pulled him closer, resting her forhead against his own. She could feel the warmth radiating off him.

It was several minutes, before one of them spoke.

"I love you" she whispered, his hand tight in hers.

"I know" was his reply. "I love you too".