For the next few days, Ginny was relentless. When she wasn't sitting next to Hermione in class, she was following her through the halls, pushing for another confrontation.
Hermione couldn't say she wasn't tempted. She was still furious about her ruined things, not to mention the loss of the map and the cloak. But she was also sick of arguing, desperate to get through the final week of her pregnancy with as little conflict as possible.
"We need to talk."
"I've got to get to Transfiguration."
"How about tonight?"
"We'll see."
When Ginny came upstairs, Hermione pretended to be asleep, waiting for her to leave before she got out of bed the next morning. She even took a different route to class, though unfortunately, she couldn't help her frequent trips to the bathroom. Ginny managed to corner her there, arms folded over her chest as she leaned against the stalls.
"Not now, Gin."
"Look, I know you think I messed up your stuff, but…"
"Move!"
Pushing her aside, Hermione dropped to her knees on the hard tile floor. She vomited into the toilet, surprised by the cool fingers that swept the hair back from her face. Why was Ginny being so nice? She even conjured a washcloth, dampening it with her wand before she pressed it to Hermione's forehead.
"Sorry," she said. "I didn't realize you were sick."
"I'm always sick." Hermione took a shuddering breath, retrieving a vial from her bag. She swallowed a huge mouthful, closing her eyes as her stomach settled.
"What potion is that?"
"This? Oh, um, it's… it helps with morning sickness."
"Where did you get it?" Ginny said, looking at the vial with interest.
"I brewed it myself."
"Really? What's in it?"
"Ginger root, some other stuff. Hey, I've got to go."
"Why?"
It was a good question, one Hermione didn't know how to answer. Classes were done for the day. She was all caught up on her homework, though even if she pretended otherwise, Ginny wasn't likely to buy it. All she could say was…
"Detention."
"Detention?" Ginny echoed, her voice skeptical. "For what?"
"I… took some of Professor Snape's ingredients. You know, to make the potion?"
It was the perfect excuse. Ginny's dubious expression faded, replaced by a look of sympathy.
"You should've told me."
"What?"
"That you needed that stuff. I could've had Mum send it."
"Oh no," Hermione said hastily. "It's okay, really."
Ginny shook her head. "No, it isn't. Give me a list and I'll make sure…"
A list? How was she supposed to make a list when she didn't even know all the ingredients?
"It's fine. I don't need anything."
"Hermione, you can't keep taking… if Snape catches you again, you'll end up in detention for the rest of the year!"
"No, I won't."
"How can you say that?"
"Because I…"
"You what?" Ginny prodded.
"I took a lot. Seriously, I won't be running out anytime soon."
"Right. Well, when you do…"
"I'll let you know."
Pushing herself to her feet, Hermione swung her bag over her shoulder. She was halfway to the door when she heard her name, suppressing a sigh as she glanced back at Ginny.
"Yeah?"
"We still need to talk."
"I'm going to be late."
"Not now," Ginny said. "Tonight."
"She's not going to stop, is she?"
"Not unless I expel her."
"What? You wouldn't…"
"Perhaps not," Severus said, "though I can't say I'm not tempted."
Hermione chuckled, her body relaxing as she rested her head on his shoulder. It was the first time they'd been alone since that day in his quarters, a welcome respite in an otherwise stressful week. The only downside were the interruptions, one student dropping by to turn in a late assignment while another wanted access to the Restricted Section.
She watched the second one leave, waiting for Severus to ward the door before she returned to his lap.
"Can I have one of those?"
"A permission slip?"
"Yeah, there's this book on advanced charms…"
He shook his head, scrawling a couple lines on a fresh slip of parchment. It was the type of note she'd always dreamed of, granting full access for her remaining time at Hogwarts.
"You trust me that much?"
"Obviously."
She smiled, pressing her lips to his as she tucked the note in her bag.
"Speaking of temptation…" He slipped a hand under her robes, fingers ghosting across bare skin.
"We can't."
"I know," he murmured, his voice deepening to a silky purr as his breath tickled her ear. He slid his hand a little higher, only to jerk it away with a muttered curse as someone rapped on the door.
"Whoever that is…"
"Be nice," she said, straightening her robes as she moved to the table in the corner.
"Do I have to?"
"Yes."
Severus smirked before his expression grew stern, his voice conspicuously elevated as he jerked on the door handle.
"Two hours, Miss Granger. You've been here two full hours, yet you're not even halfway finished."
"But there are so many," she said, staring in mock dismay at the dried insects that had been spread over the table. "I can't…"
"You can and you will, even if that requires another detention."
"Professor Snape…"
"Saturday at 7 PM," he interrupted. "As for you, Mr. Dewan… come to discuss your essay, I assume?"
"Yes, sir."
"Very well, you may take a seat. Miss Granger?"
"Sir?"
"You are dismissed."
Saturday at 7 PM? Hermione knew what that meant, already counting down the hours until she could take the other potion. No more mood swings. No bouts of morning sickness. No demands on her body, her life, her future, no pressure to trade her hopes and dreams for someone else's.
Speaking of the Weasleys…
No, she didn't want to fight with Ginny. What was the point when she'd already made her decision? She'd been ignoring Ron's letters for the same reason, not wanting to cause further damage to relationships she still hoped to salvage.
Maybe that was naive. It was certainly unfair, considering how they'd treated her. Honestly, she didn't know how to forgive them, though ending her pregnancy seemed like a good place to start.
Stifling a yawn as she trudged up to Gryffindor Tower, she was relieved to find the common room deserted. Unfortunately, that relief was short lived, her stomach sinking as she entered the dormitory.
"Not now, Gin. I'm exhausted."
"This won't take long."
She didn't have it in her to argue any further, sighing heavily as she sat down on her bed. Her sheets, blankets, and even her mattress had been replaced, an unavoidable reminder of last weekend's destruction.
"I didn't do it, you know."
"Yeah, that's what you told Professor McGonagall."
"I told her," Ginny said, "and she believed me. Why can't you?"
"We'd just had a fight. You were furious when you came up here."
"So?"
Hermione cast a Muffliato, gesturing at the other beds. Two of the girls were poring over a copy of Witch Weekly while the third was taking a nap.
"Are you saying it was one of them?"
"Of course not!"
"Then who else…"
"I don't know, but it wasn't me!"
"You're the only one who had a reason…"
"No, I didn't. Is that really what you think of me, that I'd ruin your things just to get back at you?"
Hermione hesitated, caught off guard by Ginny's expression. She looked genuinely hurt, her eyes filled with unshed tears.
"Well, what about the note?"
"What note?"
"The one I found on my bed."
"There was a note?" Ginny said. "I thought they just destroyed stuff."
"No, the one from a few weeks ago. Right after Valentine's Day? I know it came from you."
"From me? What are you talking about?"
"Whoever wrote it had no trouble getting up here. They also knew I was pregnant, so unless you've been telling people…"
"I haven't. Mum told me not to, remember?"
"Yeah," Hermione said, "which means it had to have come from you. No one else could've known…"
"Hermione…" Ginny sank down on the mattress, her expression bewildered. "I don't know what's going on, but I haven't written any notes. I swear I haven't."
"I won't report you again if that's what you're worried about. I just want the truth."
"Bloody hell, would you stop it?! I'm not lying!"
"Can you prove it?"
"How?"
"Legilimens."
Ginny looked like she'd been slapped, though she recovered quickly. Shock gave way to anger, her eyes blazing as they met Hermione's.
"Fine. Go ahead."
Naturally, she'd assumed Ginny would refuse, adding further credence to her suspicions. She'd never expected her to accept the challenge, the air suddenly thick with tension.
"We don't have to…"
"You brought it up," Ginny said. "Do it."
Maybe she was bluffing, thinking she'd be able to conceal what she'd done? If so, it was a foolish move. Granted, Hermione was hardly a master Legilimens, but she did have a fair amount of practice.
"You sure?"
"How else am I supposed to convince you?"
Hermione nodded, taking a deep breath. "Legilimens."
The room dissolved, replaced by several flashes of Ginny at Quidditch practice. Lying in bed with Harry at the Burrow… Hermione cringed, though that memory wasn't half as disturbing as the one that followed. The battle, Fred's death… she hadn't been there for this particular scene, Ginny sobbing over her brother's body until Arthur had no choice but to pull her away.
Before she could fully register what was happening, she was jerked ahead in time, deposited back at the Burrow. Thankfully, Ginny and Harry were fully clothed this time, holding hands as they sat on the couch.
"It's perfect, don't you think? After everything…"
Somehow, Ginny found a way to push back. She cut that memory short, the scene reforming in the Great Hall. The Howler, Hermione's humiliation…
"What was that all about?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?! Come on, Ginny, you've been glaring at her all morning. Not that I blame you, of course."
Ginny frowned, turning to the other girl. "What do you mean?"
"Granger's always been a stuck up bitch. Thinks she's better than everyone else just because your boyfriend let her ride his coattails."
Hermione wasn't bothered by the criticism. She was too busy watching Ginny's cheeks turn red, her eyes narrowing into slits.
"Harry would be dead if it wasn't for her. Ron too, most likely. You have no idea how much she's done for them or me or the rest of my family!"
"Sorry," the girl said hastily. "I didn't mean…"
"I don't care what you meant. Talk about her like that again and I'll hex you!"
Hermione felt dazed, struggling to process what she'd just seen as another memory floated to the surface. This one was much more recent, flashes of the argument they'd had last weekend followed by… Ginny crying herself to sleep?
The memory faded, replaced by a glimpse of Ginny dragging herself out of bed for Quidditch practice. She dressed quietly before she tiptoed out of the room, Hermione's belongings left perfectly intact.
That couldn't have been faked. Hermione knew it as she withdrew, jarred by Ginny's expression. She looked positively gutted, her cheeks wet with tears.
"Satisfied?"
"I… I don't know what to say."
Ginny shook her head. "You don't have to say anything. Honestly? I'd rather you didn't."
"I should at least apologize," Hermione said. "I'm sorry I accused…"
"Please. Just leave me alone."
It was an ironic statement given the last few days, though Hermione had no choice but to respect it. She picked up her bag, shooting Ginny one last, bewildered look as she left the room.
"10 minutes until curfew."
Hermione sighed, plucking the book off the table and returning it to the shelf. She couldn't recall a word of what she'd read over the past couple hours, too preoccupied by what she'd seen in Ginny's mind.
She hadn't done it. Not only that, but she'd defended Hermione. True, she'd been pushy, downright unreasonable at times, but she hadn't…
So who had? That was the bigger question, one that troubled Hermione more with each passing minute. How had they known she was pregnant? How had they gotten into the dormitory? More importantly, why had they done it? Who would've been spiteful enough to leave her threatening notes and destroy all her things?
She shook her head, noticing Madam Pince's suspicious look as she exited the Restricted Section. Clearly, the librarian hadn't forgiven her for the books she'd destroyed last fall, though she'd done it through no fault of her own. Confunded by an unknown perpetrator…
This wasn't Ashwood. It couldn't be. He was still locked up in Azkaban according to Severus, and besides…
"5 minutes until curfew."
Biting back a sharp retort, she grabbed her bag before she stepped out into the hall. The school was deathly silent, chills skittering up her spine as she headed for the stairs. If it wasn't Ginny or Ashwood…
She'd just made it to Gryffindor Tower when she spotted the portrait. The entrance was hanging wide open, the Fat Lady's feverish mutterings echoed by the sound of low, frantic voices from above. Before she could react, a familiar figure ducked through the hole, black eyes burning into hers.
"Where the hell have you been?"
"The library," she said. "What's wrong?"
"Come with me."
The common room didn't look any different, though her throat tightened as they headed up to the dormitory. An eerie stillness. That familiar smell…
"Brace yourself."
She nodded, taking a deep breath before she followed him inside.
"Miss Granger is safe," he announced. "She was in the library."
"Oh, thank Merlin," Professor McGonagall said. The sentiment was echoed by the other professors, all of whom looked pale and shaken.
It wasn't difficult to understand why. Hermione gasped as she glanced around the room, the floor covered with shreds of parchment and ripped fabric. All but one of the mattresses had been destroyed, a sticky dark substance clinging to the single feather she bent down to pick up.
"Is this…"
"Blood," Severus said, his voice grim.
"Whose blood? Where's Ginny and…"
"Your roommates are recovering in the hospital wing, with the exception of Miss Galloway. She was in the common room at the time of the attack."
"But she must've heard something," Hermione said, turning to the girl who was hovering behind Professor Sprout. "What happened?"
"I… I don't know. I didn't hear… didn't see…"
"No point in questioning her," Severus interrupted. "Someone has already tampered with her memories."
"Tampered with…" Hermione felt faint, though she did her best to steady herself. "What about Ginny? The others? How bad is it?"
"Not as bad as it could've been," Minerva said. "Those girls would've bled to death if Severus hadn't known the countercurse."
She was right. Hermione could see that as she studied the floor, pools of congealing blood only partially hidden beneath shreds of fabric and parchment. The air was thick with it, a sickly sweet, coppery odor that turned her stomach.
"Can I see them?"
"Tomorrow. They need their rest."
She nodded, doing her best to hide her discomfort as the smell grew stronger, more pungent. One step, another and another… she moved closer to her bed, wondering why it was the only piece of furniture that hadn't been destroyed.
"Wait."
Too late for Severus's warning. She'd already seen it, her skin clammy with sweat as her stomach gave an unpleasant lurch. Turning on her heel, she brushed past the professors, nearly knocking poor Flitwick over in a desperate attempt to reach the bathroom.
She made it, but only just, heaving miserably for what felt like hours until finally, she could breathe without gagging. By then, the room had grown silent, a hand on her back making her jump before she recognized the touch.
"Here," Severus said. "Take this."
The potion settled her stomach, though she still felt drained. Not just drained, but humiliated and frightened, struggling to hold back tears as she slumped against the wall.
"I fought in a war."
"Pardon?"
"I fought in a bloody war," she repeated. "Saw all sorts of terrible things, and I never got sick. Not once. Now I can't even handle a little blood?"
"You know the reason for that."
"Yeah, but they don't."
"Several students were viciously assaulted. Your stomach troubles are the least of their concerns, I assure you."
"You're right. I just wish I could've handled it better, done something to help, or…"
"There isn't much any of us can do," he responded. "Not tonight, at any rate. The others have gone to secure the rest of the school – meanwhile, I'm to escort you to the Room of Requirement."
Hermione didn't need to ask him why. She'd seen the message on her sheets, jagged block letters scrawled in someone else's blood.
NEXT TIME.
"Why is this happening again?" she whispered. "Why me?"
"I don't know," he said. "But I intend to find out."
He helped her to her feet, waiting for her to gather her things before they left the dormitory. Neither of them spoke until they'd reached the sixth floor, pausing next to the wall as he cast a quick Muffliato.
"7 AM to 7 PM," he said. "Outside of those hours, you're not to leave that room without an escort."
"All right."
"That isn't enough. I want you to promise."
"Fine," she said. "I promise."
He nodded, glancing up and down the hallway. "We've been risking too much. Today in my office…"
"I know."
"I'd like to believe they cannot spy on us the way Ashwood did. Unfortunately, their ability to access the dormitory would suggest otherwise."
"They know things, too," she said quietly.
"Things?" Severus said, his eyes narrowing. "What things?"
"Well, they knew about the map. They stole it from my trunk, along with the cloak."
"Yes, we've already discussed that. There's something else, isn't there?"
He knew she was hiding something. Of course he did, scrutinizing her features as he waited for a response.
"Last weekend… that wasn't…"
"Wasn't the first incident? Why didn't you tell me?"
"It was just a note. I didn't think it was a big deal."
"A note? What did it say?"
"It doesn't matter."
"Like hell it doesn't," he said, nostrils flaring. "Tell me."
"They… they knew I was pregnant. I'd only been back at school for a couple days, and they already knew."
"And you're sure it wasn't Ginevra?"
"I am now."
Severus didn't question her any further. He didn't even seem angry, his expression turning thoughtful instead. After a moment, he sighed, his eyes meeting hers.
"Last weekend… I received one, too."
"What?" Her eyes widened. "Why didn't you…"
"Tell you?" he finished for her. "For similar reasons, I suppose. It was easier to brush it off and forget about it."
"We've got to stop doing that."
"Agreed."
There were too many unanswered questions, not to mention countless others that hadn't even been asked yet. Who was doing this? Why? What did they want, and did it have anything to do with what happened last fall? It was starting to feel like the same person was tormenting them, yet how was that possible when Ashwood was still locked up in Azkaban?
"Not now," Severus said, obviously sensing the direction of her thoughts. "We'll talk about it when we're a little less… exposed."
Until then, she hadn't realized how close they were standing, far too close for student and teacher. She took a step backward, both relieved and disappointed when he did the same.
"What about this weekend?"
"What about it?
"The potion? I can't put it off much longer."
"You won't have to. We'll proceed as planned, with one exception."
"What's that?"
"Different location," he said, "which I suppose is the silver lining in all of this. The Room of Requirement is much more secure than the dungeons. It'll also be able to provide whatever you might need."
"Except you."
"Pardon?"
"I don't want to do it alone."
"Alone?" he echoed. "That's not what I had in mind."
"But you said we needed to be careful."
"We will be."
"How are you planning to…"
"No more questions," he interrupted. "Not until we both get some sleep."
Hermione nodded, stifling a yawn as she paced in front of the wall. After a moment, the door materialized, beckoning her forward with the promise of a mattress that was far more comfortable than any she'd slept on in the dormitory.
"Good night, Severus."
"Good night," he echoed, waiting until she was safely inside before he disappeared around the corner.
Saturday afternoon, and the hours seemed to drag by like days. 1:30… 2:15… 3:07…
Severus had planned for this. Down to the smallest, seemingly insignificant detail, he'd done everything he could to ensure the night would go smoothly. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something would go wrong, his anxiety increasing with each minute that ticked by.
3:43 PM.
Who was trying to hurt Hermione? Why? What did they want, and when would they strike again?
They couldn't reach her in the Room of Requirement. That was his one consolation, the only thing that allowed him to sleep at night. She'd be safe there tonight, too, free to take the potion without any interference.
4:12 PM.
Now that she'd made her decision, he was as eager as she was to get it over with. He'd never seen her more miserable than she'd been these past few weeks, so ill that even his nausea potions hardly seemed to make a difference. Her eyes were often red from crying, underscored by dark circles that made it clear how exhausted she was.
All of that, yet the Weasleys still felt the need to harass her. He'd seen Ginevra following her through the halls, recalling the way she grimaced whenever that shabby little owl delivered another letter. Expecting her to endure so much for their benefit…
4:41 PM.
Sighing heavily, Severus fixed himself a pot of coffee. He turned his attention to the stack of essays on his desk, resisting the urge to look at the clock until he'd finished his grading. By then, 6 PM had come and gone, leaving him just enough time to choke down a sandwich before he put the next part of his plan into action. Invisibility Potion. Traveling Cloak. Partially concealed window on the sixth floor left ajar. He ducked into his quarters, tossing a pinch of Floo Powder into the fireplace.
"Leaving now?" Minerva said, her disembodied head peering at him from between the flames.
He nodded. "I'll be back tomorrow."
The excuse he'd given was flimsy, some vague remark about tending to personal affairs. Thankfully, she hadn't questioned it, telling him he was entitled to a night off every now and again.
Good. That was all in order. Nothing to do now but walk out the front gate, only to turn around and fly back in without being seen.
"Who's there?"
"Who do you think?"
"Severus?"
"Yes. Hold on, I'll take the antidote."
Rummaging in his pockets, he withdrew a vial of crystal clear liquid. He took a large swallow, her eyes meeting his as they came into view.
"Better?"
"Much," she said, flashing him a smile. "What's with the traveling cloak?"
"I've left Hogwarts for the night, or so Minerva thinks. I won't be back until tomorrow."
"So you can stay…"
"All night? Yes, if that is what you wish."
She looked so grateful he didn't know how to react, his throat tightening as her eyes filled with tears. What she really that nervous? He didn't want to think so, yet he couldn't disregard her pale skin, fingers trembling as she twisted her hands in her lap.
"If you're not ready…"
"No!" she said hastily. "No, I am. Desperate for it, actually, I just…"
"You're worried about the effects."
"A little, yeah."
Severus didn't know what to say that would reassure her. Who was he to predict what it would feel like? Still, there was one thing he knew for certain, which he hoped would give her comfort.
"The Cruciatus… do you remember how it feels?"
She shuddered. "Of course."
"The worst torture imaginable, yet you survived it. This will be nothing compared to that."
Reminding her of the war did the trick. She nodded, straightening her shoulders.
"Right. Give me the potion."
This time, it was Severus who hesitated, wishing he could delay the effects. While he was sure it wouldn't be torture, she'd at least be uncomfortable for a few hours.
"We have all night," he said. "No need to rush."
She shook her head. "If I don't take it now, I'm just going to sit here worrying about it. I'd rather get it over with."
"Very well."
He took the vial out of his pocket, the one he'd guarded so carefully these past few weeks. The potion had deepened to midnight blue, shimmering softly beneath the light of several floating candles.
"All of it?"
"Yes."
She plucked it from his hand, yanking out the cork and tossing it aside. Before he knew it, she'd swallowed every drop, taking a deep breath as she handed him the empty vial.
"How long?"
"You'll begin to feel it within 10 minutes. According to my research, the entire process should take no more than a few hours."
"Then it'll be over," she said. "I'll be able to put it behind me and move on with my life."
He nodded, glad she was being so optimistic.
"Of course, that doesn't mean things can go back to normal. We still have to figure out who hurt Ginny and the others, how they got up there, why they're after me. Do you think…"
"We'll worry about that later," he interrupted. "For now, try to focus on more pleasant things."
"Like what?"
"Getting the Weasleys off your back? That'll be a relief, I'm sure."
She murmured in agreement, her eyes fixed on the clock. Five minutes had passed, hands creeping ever closer to 10 as they sat there in silence.
"Should I lay down?"
"If you wish," he said. "Whatever feels comfortable."
Nodding, she leaned back against the pillows, gazing up at him with those big dark eyes.
"I don't feel anything."
"It's only been nine minutes," he told her. "Give it time."
Three more minutes and he shed his coat, removing his boots before he stretched out beside her. She responded by closing the distance between them, her head a comfortable weight on his shoulder as she rested a hand on his chest.
Under any other circumstances, it would've been an ideal situation. Complete privacy. An entire night ahead of them to do as they wished. One of those things was obvious, of course, his body reacting to her close proximity no matter how hard he tried to resist. But more than that, it was the thought of falling asleep beside her that appealed to him. He'd never…
"20 minutes. Shouldn't something be happening?"
"Maybe it is and you just don't feel it."
"That would be nice," she said. "If it turned out to be painless?"
There was no pain because it wasn't working. He knew that after an hour, watching her shake her head in disappointment as she returned from the bathroom. No pain. No blood. She was every bit as pregnant as she'd been before she'd taken it, obviously struggling to hold back tears.
"Give it another hour," he said quietly. "Just to be sure."
"Does it have a failure rate?" she asked when the second hour had passed.
"Pardon?"
"Muggle medicines," she said. "They don't work for everyone."
"My potions don't fail."
It was a stupid statement. Severus knew it even as he said it, faced with undeniable evidence that proved otherwise. Still, he knew he'd brewed the potion correctly. He wasn't careless under any circumstances, but in a situation like this? He'd memorized the instructions, only to check them repeatedly with each new step. There was no way in hell…
"I checked the instructions three times just to be sure."
"And yet you still got it wrong. Why is that?"
"Fuck!"
"What?" Hermione said, clearly startled by his outburst.
"Mandrake root."
"Mandrake root? What about it?"
"You didn't add it to your potion," he said, jaw clenched so tight he could barely get the words out. "You told me that yourself."
Her mouth dropped open, confusion giving way to dawning horror. "Are you saying…"
He nodded. "It seems that whoever caused you to become pregnant is intent on keeping you that way."
"But… they can't! Why would anyone…"
"I don't know," he said grimly. "All I do know is that I was extremely careful with that potion. It's been locked up for weeks now, ever since the night I brewed it. I can't imagine how anyone could've accessed it or even known what it was, but…"
"This isn't your fault."
"Isn't it?" He let out a humorless chuckle. "Someone forced you to take a Fertility Potion, and I didn't investigate. I was so busy looking for solutions that I never stopped to consider…"
"I did the same thing," she interrupted. "Is this my fault?"
"Of course not."
Hermione was calm. Disturbingly so. Honestly, he expected her to be distraught, having just been informed that she'd be giving birth to a child she didn't want. All her precious plans put on hold, hounded by the Weasleys not just for weeks, but decades…
"Anyway, it doesn't matter whose fault it is. I'll just have to find another way."
Ah, so that explained it. She thought there was still hope, that a simple change of plans would be enough to spare her. The last thing he wanted was to shatter her illusions, yet what choice did he have? Another potion? Even if he could ensure that it wouldn't be tampered with, it would take weeks to mature. By then, she'd be well into her second trimester, too late for it to have any effect.
"How far along are you?" he said abruptly.
"12 weeks."
"That's what I thought."
"Why do you ask?"
He hesitated, sighing heavily. "It's too late."
"For what?"
"Potions."
"Okay, so what are my other options?"
"None except Dark magic, which I will not…"
"No Dark magic," she agreed.
"You understand what this means, don't you? Whoever did this… they've left you no choice. I'm afraid you'll have to carry to term."
"No, I won't."
Severus couldn't blame her for her denial. He didn't want to accept it either, furious that she was even in this position. He should've… well, he didn't know what he could've done, nor what he could possibly do in the future to improve this miserable situation. That was the worst part about it, his own helplessness setting his teeth on edge as he struggled for a response.
"Hermione…"
"I'm not out of choices. Just magical ones."
"Meaning?"
"Abortion is legal in England," she said as she sat down beside him. "I'll just go to a clinic."
"A Muggle clinic?"
She nodded.
"I see. And how does that work?"
"I'm not sure, exactly, but it can't be that bad. It wouldn't be legal if it was."
Severus wasn't sure he agreed with her logic. His own father had been operated on by a Muggle doctor, only to die two months later. Granted, Tobias had been in terrible shape long before the surgery, but still…
"It's either that or Dark magic," she said quietly. "I'll do whatever it takes to end this pregnancy."
One was a possibility. The other one wasn't. He'd witnessed the effects of a termination curse, long ago in his seventh year when one of the Slytherin girls had attempted to rid herself of an unwanted child. Blood, so much blood… bone chilling screams followed by deathly silence.
"London."
"What?"
"London," he repeated. "I'll go tomorrow and find one of these clinics. I'm sure they'll be able to provide more information."
"You'd do that for me?"
"Of course," he said, rolling his eyes. "Don't be foolish."
Severus felt a bit better, glad there was something he could do to make himself useful. Granted, there were no guarantees, but just knowing there was one door still open…
"At least the timing's good," she said.
"Pardon?"
"Easter Break."
"Ah, yes." He'd nearly forgotten, too distracted by the potion and the attack on Gryffindor's dormitory. She was right, though – one more week of classes, followed by two whole weeks to put their alternative plan into action. No work. No school. Hogwarts would be more or less deserted, hopefully freeing them from any scrutiny.
"They want me to come to the Burrow. I've gotten five letters from Ron and another three from Molly."
"Indeed?" he said. "And how did you respond?"
"I haven't," she said, closing her eyes as she leaned back against the pillows. "I mean, I've tried, but I can't think of anything to say except, 'Leave me alone.'"
"Sounds like a perfect response."
"I don't want to be rude."
"Why not?" he said. "They certainly haven't been courteous to you."
"No, but this isn't their fault. We know that now, don't we?"
Until recently, he had assumed that one of the Weasleys had been involved. It had simply been the most likely explanation. She'd been at the Burrow when the first potion had failed, contraceptive replaced by a Fertility Potion. Besides, who else would have anything to gain from impregnating her?
No one he could think of, though it wasn't the Weasleys. It couldn't be. The second potion's failure stood as proof of that, locked up safe in his quarters these past few weeks. No one except…
"Another Animagus," he said.
"That's what I've been thinking, too, but why? Why do this of all things? If they wanted to hurt me, couldn't they just…"
"They are hurting you," he pointed out. "Haven't you been suffering these past few weeks?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"If they'd hexed or cursed you, those injuries could've been resolved by a trip to the hospital wing. This goes much deeper than that, affecting not only your body, but your emotional state, your personal relationships, your long-term well-being. In short? I believe this is an attempt to destroy your life."
"But why?" she whispered, her eyes filled with tears. "Who could hate me that much?"
"I wish I knew the answer to that. If I did…" He trailed off, deciding this wasn't the time for threats. Instead, he lay down beside her, pulling her into his arms.
"It's as senseless as it is diabolical," he said. "Fortunately, it has already failed in some respects."
"What do you mean?"
"If my theory is correct, they hoped to come between us. They must've been aware of our… closeness."
"They were."
He nodded, choosing not to ask how she knew. This was a time for comfort, not an interrogation.
"Finding out you were pregnant with someone else's child… I suppose they believed my jealousy would drive us apart. They must've been furious when it had the opposite effect, forcing us both to acknowledge our feelings."
"And to come up with a solution."
"Indeed." He paused, brushing a stray curl back from her face. "Which of course, forced them to come up with an alternative. If they could make you carry to term, have Weasley's child…"
"They thought you wouldn't want me anymore."
"They were wrong, but that's hardly relevant. They clearly have a dim view of my character, which seems to be shaping their actions."
"It isn't only me, then," she said. "They're trying to hurt us both."
"I believe so."
She nodded, propping herself up on one elbow. "Why not just rat us out, then? Why not tell the entire school we're involved?"
"For all that they underestimate me, there's one thing they do seem to understand. Getting sacked would cause me no real hardship, nor am I worried about a sullied reputation."
"It also wouldn't stop us from being together outside of Hogwarts."
"Precisely. Their goal is to damage the relationship itself, not the perceptions of other people."
"Why?" she said, though she clearly didn't expect an answer. She must've known he was as lost as she was, both of them baffled by the lengths someone would go to out of… hatred? Revenge?
The latter explained Ashwood's actions, yet this felt different somehow. Darker, crueler, much more calculated, prolonged emotional destruction rather than a rash of spontaneous actions. And to what end? That was the real question, though whoever it was…
"This trip to London," he said. "Whether we succeed or not, it isn't going to dissuade them."
"I know," she said.
"I don't believe they have the power to interfere with a Muggle procedure. Like most witches and wizards, I doubt they're even aware of such things. Nonetheless, this may be your only chance."
"To get rid of it? Yeah, I know."
"No," he said. "To escape. Once you leave here… perhaps it would be best if you don't return."
"What?" She stared down at him, eyes wide.
"Term ends in a couple months, and you're already much more advanced than your peers. There's really no need for you to finish the school year."
"You don't want me here?"
"I don't want you in danger. There's a difference."
She looked mollified, but only slightly, jaw stubbornly set as her eyes met his.
"I'm not leaving."
"It's only…"
"Only a couple months? I don't care. I came back here to finish school, and you know what? That's exactly what I'm going to do. I won't be chased away by some… well, whoever it is, I'm not letting them win!"
Severus was tempted to argue, though in truth, he understood how she felt. He had the option of leaving too, after all, his problems solved with a simple resignation letter. So easy, yet the thought hadn't even crossed his mind. He didn't want to leave her, obviously, but beyond that, he couldn't give up. The thought of being a victim without ever having the chance to fight back…
No. Never again.
"If you stay," he said, "I'll expect you to make certain concessions. No leaving this room outside of daylight hours, no snooping around after curfew like you did last fall."
"If I hadn't snooped, we wouldn't have caught Ashwood."
"I'm aware of that. Regardless, I won't have you putting yourself in unnecessary danger. You must…"
"Severus?"
"Yes, Hermione?"
"Don't order me around like I'm one of your students. If you want something, just ask me."
Technically, she was still a student, though he chose not to point that out. This was about their personal relationship, which required concessions on his part, too. He had to treat her like an adult, for one thing, which meant trusting her judgment rather than giving her commands.
"Will you abide by curfew?"
"Yes."
"And you'll inform me if anything should happen? Even seemingly minor incidents…"
"Yes," she said. "As long as that goes both ways."
"Agreed."
She laid back down, resting her head on his shoulder as they lapsed into silence. What was left to be said, really? Beyond speculation, which was getting them nowhere, there wasn't a single thing they could do about it tonight.
Tomorrow, he'd visit the Muggle clinic. He'd return to Hogwarts and begin his investigations, exploring every possibility until he found the answers he was looking for. Until then…
"I'm sick of waiting," she said. "I just want to get it over with."
She was talking about her pregnancy, of course, but he knew how she felt. That feeling had been with him for most of his life, whether he was waiting for the war to start or anxious to see its ending. He'd experienced it last fall, too, driven half mad by anonymous letters and mysterious incidents. Waiting, always waiting, helpless frustration underscored by perpetual feelings of dread.
Would it ever end? Would there ever be a time when he didn't have to stand poised and ready, waiting for disaster to strike?
"One more week," he told her. "You can manage that."
"But what if they won't do it? What if I'm too far along, or…"
"We have enough problems. No sense in worrying over hypotheticals."
"I know," she said. "I just can't help feeling like something's going to go wrong."
Of course she felt that way. Her luck had gone from bad to worse over the past couple months, from getting pregnant in the first place to the Weasleys' endless interference. She'd had to fight them every step of the way, taking matters into her own hands only for what? For the potion to fail?
That shouldn't have happened. She knew that as well as he did. Really, was it any wonder that she felt like the world was conspiring against her?
"There are no guarantees," he said. "I'm not foolish enough to pretend otherwise and neither are you. All we can do is try."
"What if we fail?"
"Then we accept that failure and seek other options."
"Like having a baby I don't want?"
"If it comes to that, yes. In the meantime, we'll do everything we can to make sure it doesn't."
"I'm so tired," she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder.
"Do you want to get some rest?"
She shook her head. "Not that kind of tired."
"I see. Can you elaborate?"
"I'm tired of this! All of it! I'm tired of being pregnant. Tired of worrying about how I feel or what I'm going to do, getting harassed by other people when it's really none of their business. It's my body, isn't it?"
"Of course it is."
"No one else seems to think so."
"Who cares what the Weasleys think, or anyone else for that matter? Forget them."
"I wish I could," she said, her voice trembling. "I'd love to forget all of this, at least for a little while."
"Dreamless Sleep?" he suggested.
"I don't want to sleep."
"No? Well, in that case, I suppose I could Obliviate you."
"Obliviate?" Her eyes widened. "I said I wanted a break, not a magical lobotomy!"
"Confundus, then? That's much more temporary. More versatile, too."
"Confundus? You can't be serious."
"Oh, but I am," he said, struggling to keep a straight face. "I could convince you of anything. Tell you you're a cat and make you believe it."
"A cat? Why a bloody cat?"
"Because cats don't give a damn. What better way to escape your frustrations?"
"Oh, I don't know," she said. "One that doesn't involve eating mice?"
"Very well, then how about an inanimate object? Watching you pretend to be a table would provide hours of entertainment, I assure you."
"Severus…"
He smirked up at her, glad his distraction had worked. The tears in her eyes had disappeared, her expression caught somewhere between exasperation and amusement.
"Yes, Hermione?"
"You're impossible."
"So I've been told. In any case…"
He trailed off, exhaling sharply as her mouth covered his. The next thing he knew, she was lying half on top of him, fingers unbuttoning his shirt.
Her actions were unexpected, to say the least, far more awkward than graceful. Nonetheless, he was a willing participant, deciding this was a far better distraction as he attacked her clothing with equal fervor. Nightgown, gone. Underwear tossed aside, her body soft and pliant beneath his as he reversed their positions. He felt like a clumsy teenager, grunting in frustration as he struggled to unfasten his trousers.
It happened fast, too fast, no doubt driven by desperation. His desperation? Hers? Either way, he was surprised by the ferocity of it as he jerked his hips, burying himself as deep as he could go. Once, and then again and again and again… he couldn't seem to control it, couldn't get enough…
"Too much?" he whispered, panting heavily as he forced himself to slow down.
"More."
That single word nearly broke him, snatching away what little restraint he had left. He shuddered in response, brutal kisses matching the intensity of his thrusts until finally…
He heard her cry out, followed by his own ragged gasp as he pulsed inside her. Burst after burst of brilliant, blinding pleasure until at last, he was sated. Not just sated, but exhausted. Utterly drained. He couldn't even move, closing his eyes as his head fell heavily on her shoulder.
Somehow, they fell asleep that way. When he came back to consciousness, she was nestled in his arms, faint rays of sunlight creeping in through the window.
"Hermione?"
She mumbled something unintelligible, flipping onto her back.
She'd wanted to forget, something they'd both managed to do when they were safe in the darkness. Yet here in the light of day…
The changes were obvious. He'd seen her undressed only a week ago, but she already looked different. Breasts slightly larger. Abdomen just a touch more rounded than it had been last weekend. Still easy to conceal beneath her robes, but how much longer could that last? If the Muggle plan didn't work, it was only a matter of time…
"You see it, don't you?"
"See what?"
"You know what I'm talking about." She propped herself up on one elbow, sighing heavily as she glanced down at her stomach.
"You don't look any different," he said. "Not to me."
"But…"
"No. Not now."
Last night, he'd been too desperate to slow down. This morning? He was much more restrained, determined to make the most of it. Kisses all over her body. Lingering touches that made her sigh in response. He approached this encounter like he had all the time in the world, pleasuring her with his hands and mouth until he was certain he'd driven all the negative thoughts away. When he entered her, he did so gradually, resisting any urge to pick up the pace.
As helpless as he felt, this was one thing he could do. Make her forget, make her feel good, at least for a while. Slow, deep thrusts. Eyes locked on hers, demanding her full attention. He could block out the world this way, reducing its size until nothing existed outside of this bed.
"Have I ever told you…"
"What?" she breathed.
Something else was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. Not yet.
"You're beautiful."
She blushed, her lips curving into a smile.
"Am I?"
He stopped moving, studying her flushed cheeks and soft pink lips, still swollen from his kisses. Her eyes… those eyes were captivating, hazy and unfocused, filled with a dozen emotions he couldn't put a name to. All that beauty surrounded by a halo of dark curls, rich shades of mahogany glinting beneath the sunlight.
"More beautiful than anyone I've ever seen."
He meant it, unable to recall a single face that wasn't hers. The rest had become meaningless blurs, chased away by a shuddering sigh as she shifted her hips against him. He resumed his movements then, still trying to pace himself though it was growing more difficult by the second. He wanted her… god, he wanted her…
With that thought, a familiar feeling came over him, one he couldn't stop no matter how hard he tried. His hips moved faster of their own volition, a low groan escaping his throat as pleasure coiled within him like a spring. Another few thrusts and he toppled over the edge, whispering her name as his body went limp.
"What time is it?" he muttered a few minutes later, resisting the urge to go back to sleep.
"Just after nine."
"Later than I thought. Fuck."
He heaved himself into a sitting position, reaching for his trousers. Soon enough, he was fully dressed, pulling on his boots before retrieving a vial from his pocket.
"More Invisibility Potion?"
"I'd hoped to sneak out before anyone was awake, but…"
"I'm sorry."
"I'm not."
Summoning his traveling cloak, he leaned over the bed for one last kiss. Several sips of potion and he was ready to go, casting a Disillusionment Charm on himself as an extra precaution.
"No more meetings in my office," he said. "Not personal ones, at any rate. We can't risk it."
"Then how will I know what happens in London?"
"I'll devise a signal," he said. "Assuming you'll be at dinner…"
"I will be."
"Glance in my direction from time to time, but be sure not to stare. I'll touch my ear several times throughout the meal. Left ear for good news, right ear for…"
"Disaster."
"I wouldn't go that far."
"I would."
"However you choose to phrase it, we'll face what we have to face. In the meantime… try to distract yourself while I'm gone. Catch up on schoolwork, get a little more sleep…"
"I'm not tired," she said. "And all my work is done."
"No, it isn't."
"What?"
"Potions ingredients native to North America and their various uses. I expect a lengthy report."
"That's not on the syllabus."
"No, it isn't," he said. "Nonetheless, I expect you to do it."
"What if I don't?"
"I'll expel you immediately."
"Liar."
There was no point in smirking. She could no longer see him, her eyes focused on a spot that was at least two feet away from his head.
"Write about North America. Write about China. Write whatever you want, or don't write at all. It doesn't matter, as long as you keep yourself busy."
"I'll try."
"That's all I ask," he said, wrapping himself in his traveling cloak as he headed for the door. "Well, that and keep yourself safe. I'll be back as soon as I can."