Five weeks later, Hermione took Dumbledore's advice. She had
returned to classes the following Wednesday after the attack and she was
bombarded with the silent treatment from a lot of her friends. Even Harry
and Ron treated her strangely, but at least they were talking to her. She
went through her classes as usual and in the end of March, she began to
feel a queasy sickness that left her drained almost every morning. When
she confessed this to Ginny, Ginny had the same advice as Dumbledore: "Go
see Madam Pomfrey." And two weeks later, Hermione gave in and visited the
Hogwarts matron.
Ten minutes after seeing Madam Pomfrey, Hermione wished she had kept to herself. She was sitting on a bed in the infirmary, sobbing quietly, clutching her stomach. She knew something had to be wrong from the beginning, but she didn't dare speak it to anyone. She felt an incredible pain at the options Madam Pomfrey had suggested; one of them completely contradicted everything she stood for, and the other, a complete heartbreak. Unable to choose a path, Hermione sat crying, wishing she had never come to Hogwarts.
That evening, she arrived in the common room after a gruelling day of meetings with Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey and Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, all of which, proved useless in Hermione's view. She still had to face reality and accept ignorance no more: she was pregnant.
Sitting on her own bed in her dorm, she still found it hard to believe. Was it truly possible to impregnate someone in the fashion that Tom did to her? It must be, you fool, cried the voice in the back of her head. It happened to you; you can be so dense sometimes.
Hermione was still crying softly when Ginny bounded into her room. Instantly, seeing Hermione crying, clasping her stomach, Ginny knew what had happened. She gathered her friend up in a hug, not saying anything, for she knew words could not cease the pain of the mess.
"Have you decided what you're going to do?" Ginny asked when Hermione had calmed down a little.
Hermione heaved a great sigh. "I don't know. Madam Pomfrey and the Minister both think abortion is the best route. Professor McGonagall is undecided; she just kept muttering, 'I don't know. I really don't know,' over and over again. Professor Dumbledore, as usual, talked sense into everyone and told them that just because it's the Dark Lord's baby," her voice quivered, "doesn't mean that it won't turn out right. I'm the mother, remember?" She convulsed into sobs again. "I don't know, Ginny! I don't want to make this decision! I don't want to kill a baby that hasn't done anything wrong! But I don't want to bring another Voldemort into the world." She spat his name, vowing she should never speak it again. "Abortion goes against everything I stand for and everything I believe in. If he's driven me to that, then I'm a failure in everything I've done."
Ginny didn't follow this logic, but she allowed space because Hermione was upset. Patting her gently on the back, she asked, "Do Harry and Ron know yet?"
Hermione shook her head miserably. With all the thoughts flying around in her head, she completely forgot about them. For the past seven years, it was as if the three of them were attached at the head; not a thought went through one of their minds without the others finding out. It was a natural thing and Hermione logically expected them to know automatically.
"No, they don't know!" she wailed. "I don't know how I'm going to tell them."
"I'll tell them for you."
Hermione smiled through her tears. "Thanks, Ginny. That's sweet, but I think this is something I have to do on my own." Drawing in her breath, she let it out heavily. "But I think I'm going to take a nap now."
Ginny stood up from the bed and left Hermione to sleep. Hermione was one of her good friends; she wanted to help her so badly, but knowing the power of Voldemort from a first hand point of view, Ginny was unable to offer any real advice. She was forced to wonder, however, as she sat in the common room staring into the fire, why Voldemort was reverting back to his teenage self. She knew that he was powerful and had the ability to take on pretty much any form he wanted, but why his teenage self? Couldn't he just have attacked Hermione as the full-grown Voldemort?
Then people would have known who he was, you idiot! called the small voice in her head. Feeling silly for not thinking of it first, Ginny decided to also go to bed early. It had been an emotionally exhausting day for her, so she could barely imagine what it had been like for poor Hermione. Climbing in between the cool sheets of her bed, she drifted into an uncomfortable sleep, filled with dreams of Tom Riddle and how strongly she had felt for him.
Although the teachers tried to keep it quiet, news spread fast of Hermione's condition. The students were unaware as to who the father of Hermione's unborn child was and the teachers were more than reluctant to tell them. Suspecting it would strike more fear into their hearts than was necessary, Dumbledore forbid any teacher to discuss the situation with any student. "Miss Granger's business is her own," he told them firmly and they all solemnly agreed.
Draco Malfoy, however, had a different perspective. "I'll bet it was that fellow from Durmstrang," he said bitterly as he walked by the Gryffindor table during breakfast one morning a week after Hermione discovered that she was pregnant. "You and he were awfully close during our fourth year."
Hermione ducked her head and Ron pulled out his wand, ready to attack Malfoy when Professor McGonagall walked by the table. "Any trouble here?" she asked calmly, eyeing Malfoy directly. Ron scurried to put his wand away.
"No, Professor McGonagall." Malfoy's voice was sugarcoated, but McGonagall was too cool to miss that.
"I should hope not, Mr. Malfoy. The Headmaster has made it clear that any student who dwells on business that does not belong to them will find themselves in numerous detentions."
Malfoy looked like he was biting his tongue to keep from responding, and Harry could only guess that the sentence was going to involve the words, "I'm telling my father," but Malfoy kept his trap shut and headed back to his own table. Hermione gave Professor McGonagall a weak, but appreciative smile, repositioning her face downward after. McGonagall nodded briskly, walking away, but not before patting Hermione encouragingly on the way.
"How are you feeling today?" Harry asked, feeling ashamed that he hadn't asked Hermione earlier. He felt odd around her; she was carrying the child of his sworn enemy, although against her will. He still felt like he should hate her, too, but couldn't bring himself to do it.
"Alright," Hermione said quietly. "I've been sick every morning for the past few weeks and it gives me a terrible headache."
"I can imagine." Ron's face was twisted at the prospect of being physically ill every morning for several weeks. "On second thought," he added as an afterthought, "maybe I can't imagine."
Hermione's life seemed to deteriorate from there on, yet her mood seemed to lift occasionally. Her grades were suffering because of her condition, yet several teachers seemed to take pity on her. She slept in, often, waking up to realize that she didn't really care she had missed class. She continued to study half-heartedly in the common room and Harry and Ron shared several glances, worried about their friend.
On the odd occasion, Hermione felt her spirits lift. Madam Pomfrey warned her that it was an effect of the pregnancy she may like; despite her situation, Hermione sometimes felt so incredibly happy that she could have floated to classes. During those periods, she managed to study incredibly hard and have tons of fun with her friends before returning to the depressed version of herself.
After a month of being on an emotional roller coaster, Hermione decided that she had had enough. She slammed her books shut one Thursday afternoon close to the middle of April. "I've had it!" she screamed to the cover of her book. "I can't take anymore! The whispering about me, the questions, the studying, the inquiries, the morning sickness, the headaches, the accusing stares from everyone! I can't do this anymore!" She immediately broke into violent sobs, causing Harry and Ron to jump to her side. Neville Longbottom ran to get Professor McGonagall and Ron helped Hermione sit down on the couch while Harry ran for a cup of tea. Gulping air heavily, she put her head in her hands.
"I don't know what to do, Ron," she moaned. "I'm beginning to hate my life and I'm beginning to fear myself."
"Fear yourself?" Ron was utterly perplexed at this statement. "How can you fear yourself?"
She took a deep, calming breath. "I keep having dreams," she said and she could tell that Ron was thinking back to their fifth year and the dreams that Harry had been having. "Not like Harry's," she assured him. "I don't think. These are more nightmares than anything. I keep dreaming that Voldemort's coming back for the baby and me. I keep dreaming that he's coming back to haunt me for the child that I had for him. My child." She sat up straighter, wrapping her arms around her stomach tightly. "I want this baby, Ron," she said determinedly. "This is my baby, too, and despite his evil ways, I will raise this baby to be good and wholesome and not at all like that creep." Creep was one of the many terms floating around her mind, but seemed the most appropriate for the point she was trying to make.
Ron looked mildly disappointed. "You want to keep the baby?" he asked, his eyes widening as she nodded her head. "Why?"
"You wouldn't understand," she said, smiling faintly. "It's a woman thing."
Ron noted that she didn't say, "Girl thing".
Harry returned minutes later with a cup of tea and arrived at the same time as Professor McGonagall and Neville. The three of them appeared in the common room at the same time, bustling over each other to get to Hermione.
"Here." Harry sounded out of breath as he handed her the cup of tea. She thanked him earnestly and Professor McGonagall studied her closely.
"Are you alright, Miss Granger?"
Hermione smiled. "Yes, Professor. I've made a decision about what I'm going to do with my baby."
Professor McGonagall's eyes widened at the sound of "my baby" but she nodded and said, "Let's go find Professor Dumbledore now." She was going to add, "Before you change your mind," but thought better of it. By the sound of it, she already knew what Hermione's decision was and maybe it would be better if she did change her mind.
Ten minutes after seeing Madam Pomfrey, Hermione wished she had kept to herself. She was sitting on a bed in the infirmary, sobbing quietly, clutching her stomach. She knew something had to be wrong from the beginning, but she didn't dare speak it to anyone. She felt an incredible pain at the options Madam Pomfrey had suggested; one of them completely contradicted everything she stood for, and the other, a complete heartbreak. Unable to choose a path, Hermione sat crying, wishing she had never come to Hogwarts.
That evening, she arrived in the common room after a gruelling day of meetings with Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey and Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, all of which, proved useless in Hermione's view. She still had to face reality and accept ignorance no more: she was pregnant.
Sitting on her own bed in her dorm, she still found it hard to believe. Was it truly possible to impregnate someone in the fashion that Tom did to her? It must be, you fool, cried the voice in the back of her head. It happened to you; you can be so dense sometimes.
Hermione was still crying softly when Ginny bounded into her room. Instantly, seeing Hermione crying, clasping her stomach, Ginny knew what had happened. She gathered her friend up in a hug, not saying anything, for she knew words could not cease the pain of the mess.
"Have you decided what you're going to do?" Ginny asked when Hermione had calmed down a little.
Hermione heaved a great sigh. "I don't know. Madam Pomfrey and the Minister both think abortion is the best route. Professor McGonagall is undecided; she just kept muttering, 'I don't know. I really don't know,' over and over again. Professor Dumbledore, as usual, talked sense into everyone and told them that just because it's the Dark Lord's baby," her voice quivered, "doesn't mean that it won't turn out right. I'm the mother, remember?" She convulsed into sobs again. "I don't know, Ginny! I don't want to make this decision! I don't want to kill a baby that hasn't done anything wrong! But I don't want to bring another Voldemort into the world." She spat his name, vowing she should never speak it again. "Abortion goes against everything I stand for and everything I believe in. If he's driven me to that, then I'm a failure in everything I've done."
Ginny didn't follow this logic, but she allowed space because Hermione was upset. Patting her gently on the back, she asked, "Do Harry and Ron know yet?"
Hermione shook her head miserably. With all the thoughts flying around in her head, she completely forgot about them. For the past seven years, it was as if the three of them were attached at the head; not a thought went through one of their minds without the others finding out. It was a natural thing and Hermione logically expected them to know automatically.
"No, they don't know!" she wailed. "I don't know how I'm going to tell them."
"I'll tell them for you."
Hermione smiled through her tears. "Thanks, Ginny. That's sweet, but I think this is something I have to do on my own." Drawing in her breath, she let it out heavily. "But I think I'm going to take a nap now."
Ginny stood up from the bed and left Hermione to sleep. Hermione was one of her good friends; she wanted to help her so badly, but knowing the power of Voldemort from a first hand point of view, Ginny was unable to offer any real advice. She was forced to wonder, however, as she sat in the common room staring into the fire, why Voldemort was reverting back to his teenage self. She knew that he was powerful and had the ability to take on pretty much any form he wanted, but why his teenage self? Couldn't he just have attacked Hermione as the full-grown Voldemort?
Then people would have known who he was, you idiot! called the small voice in her head. Feeling silly for not thinking of it first, Ginny decided to also go to bed early. It had been an emotionally exhausting day for her, so she could barely imagine what it had been like for poor Hermione. Climbing in between the cool sheets of her bed, she drifted into an uncomfortable sleep, filled with dreams of Tom Riddle and how strongly she had felt for him.
Although the teachers tried to keep it quiet, news spread fast of Hermione's condition. The students were unaware as to who the father of Hermione's unborn child was and the teachers were more than reluctant to tell them. Suspecting it would strike more fear into their hearts than was necessary, Dumbledore forbid any teacher to discuss the situation with any student. "Miss Granger's business is her own," he told them firmly and they all solemnly agreed.
Draco Malfoy, however, had a different perspective. "I'll bet it was that fellow from Durmstrang," he said bitterly as he walked by the Gryffindor table during breakfast one morning a week after Hermione discovered that she was pregnant. "You and he were awfully close during our fourth year."
Hermione ducked her head and Ron pulled out his wand, ready to attack Malfoy when Professor McGonagall walked by the table. "Any trouble here?" she asked calmly, eyeing Malfoy directly. Ron scurried to put his wand away.
"No, Professor McGonagall." Malfoy's voice was sugarcoated, but McGonagall was too cool to miss that.
"I should hope not, Mr. Malfoy. The Headmaster has made it clear that any student who dwells on business that does not belong to them will find themselves in numerous detentions."
Malfoy looked like he was biting his tongue to keep from responding, and Harry could only guess that the sentence was going to involve the words, "I'm telling my father," but Malfoy kept his trap shut and headed back to his own table. Hermione gave Professor McGonagall a weak, but appreciative smile, repositioning her face downward after. McGonagall nodded briskly, walking away, but not before patting Hermione encouragingly on the way.
"How are you feeling today?" Harry asked, feeling ashamed that he hadn't asked Hermione earlier. He felt odd around her; she was carrying the child of his sworn enemy, although against her will. He still felt like he should hate her, too, but couldn't bring himself to do it.
"Alright," Hermione said quietly. "I've been sick every morning for the past few weeks and it gives me a terrible headache."
"I can imagine." Ron's face was twisted at the prospect of being physically ill every morning for several weeks. "On second thought," he added as an afterthought, "maybe I can't imagine."
Hermione's life seemed to deteriorate from there on, yet her mood seemed to lift occasionally. Her grades were suffering because of her condition, yet several teachers seemed to take pity on her. She slept in, often, waking up to realize that she didn't really care she had missed class. She continued to study half-heartedly in the common room and Harry and Ron shared several glances, worried about their friend.
On the odd occasion, Hermione felt her spirits lift. Madam Pomfrey warned her that it was an effect of the pregnancy she may like; despite her situation, Hermione sometimes felt so incredibly happy that she could have floated to classes. During those periods, she managed to study incredibly hard and have tons of fun with her friends before returning to the depressed version of herself.
After a month of being on an emotional roller coaster, Hermione decided that she had had enough. She slammed her books shut one Thursday afternoon close to the middle of April. "I've had it!" she screamed to the cover of her book. "I can't take anymore! The whispering about me, the questions, the studying, the inquiries, the morning sickness, the headaches, the accusing stares from everyone! I can't do this anymore!" She immediately broke into violent sobs, causing Harry and Ron to jump to her side. Neville Longbottom ran to get Professor McGonagall and Ron helped Hermione sit down on the couch while Harry ran for a cup of tea. Gulping air heavily, she put her head in her hands.
"I don't know what to do, Ron," she moaned. "I'm beginning to hate my life and I'm beginning to fear myself."
"Fear yourself?" Ron was utterly perplexed at this statement. "How can you fear yourself?"
She took a deep, calming breath. "I keep having dreams," she said and she could tell that Ron was thinking back to their fifth year and the dreams that Harry had been having. "Not like Harry's," she assured him. "I don't think. These are more nightmares than anything. I keep dreaming that Voldemort's coming back for the baby and me. I keep dreaming that he's coming back to haunt me for the child that I had for him. My child." She sat up straighter, wrapping her arms around her stomach tightly. "I want this baby, Ron," she said determinedly. "This is my baby, too, and despite his evil ways, I will raise this baby to be good and wholesome and not at all like that creep." Creep was one of the many terms floating around her mind, but seemed the most appropriate for the point she was trying to make.
Ron looked mildly disappointed. "You want to keep the baby?" he asked, his eyes widening as she nodded her head. "Why?"
"You wouldn't understand," she said, smiling faintly. "It's a woman thing."
Ron noted that she didn't say, "Girl thing".
Harry returned minutes later with a cup of tea and arrived at the same time as Professor McGonagall and Neville. The three of them appeared in the common room at the same time, bustling over each other to get to Hermione.
"Here." Harry sounded out of breath as he handed her the cup of tea. She thanked him earnestly and Professor McGonagall studied her closely.
"Are you alright, Miss Granger?"
Hermione smiled. "Yes, Professor. I've made a decision about what I'm going to do with my baby."
Professor McGonagall's eyes widened at the sound of "my baby" but she nodded and said, "Let's go find Professor Dumbledore now." She was going to add, "Before you change your mind," but thought better of it. By the sound of it, she already knew what Hermione's decision was and maybe it would be better if she did change her mind.
