Chapter Three – "What? NO! You Must Be Kidding Me!"

Hermione sighed and sat down next to the cauldron. She only needed to add a dried thistle and the juice of – yuck! – a rotten nectarine.

She was tired and still agitated because of her fight with Ron. He was totally unreasonable. And stubborn as he was, that wouldn't change. She could only hope that they'd work out a plan to get along.

She surely wouldn't stop working with Severus, and he wouldn't stop running Severus down. It was a draw. Neither of them could make a move without giving up their defences, in Ron's case admitting something he didn't even admit to himself – he'd have to tell her the real reason why he didn't want her to work with Severus. Hermione assumed that reason were his feelings for her.

As for herself – she didn't have a secret reason. Or did she? No, she just liked the challenge and the work itself.

Of course, she enjoyed Severus' company, and she couldn't help but care for him, but that was perfectly normal after what they'd shared. She maybe knew him better than Dumbledore by now. And therefore she knew him better than anyone else, maybe even better than he knew himself.

For example, he probably wasn't aware how he crossed his hands behind his back while pacing in his office, thinking about something. Or how he licked his lips when he was reading a complicated text about potions. Or how he cut up his dinner before eating – when they ate in his lab because of a potion – to have one hand free while eating, just to be able to turn the pages of the book he was reading and take down notes.

She checked her watch. She had another thirteen minutes before adding the last ingredients. So she decided to read a bit and went over to the bookshelf.

She didn't notice the dark figure leaving the castle, heading for the gates.

+~*#

Ron went back inside. It was no use to stand outside the window and wait for Hermione to open it again. She wouldn't open and she wouldn't talk to him – at least for the next few days.

He'd talk to Ginny about it. Maybe she could reason Hermione out of working with Snape. She hardly spend an evening in the Common Room anymore. And when she did, she was always reading and taking notes for their 'research'.

He kicked a stone in his way and stopped to watch it slide over the snow.

Looking up at the sky, he wondered if it would snow today, so he didn't see the dark figure coming towards him on the narrow path.

He only noticed, when the figure bumped into him and nearly knocked him off his feet.

But he managed to keep his balance and looked down at the figure in the winter cloak not unlike his own – only more expensive.

"You," he exclaimed, surprised. "Not down in the dungeons to pester someone?"

"No," the figure replied and continued her way without looking at him again. He stared after the retreating figure and shrugged.

Soon, his mind was back on Hermione and the Snape-problem.

+~*#

She was reading a book when he entered the lab. She didn't look up when he opened the door, nor did she respond when he greeted her.

That could mean two things. First, she was still angry about Weasley. But as the boy wasn't here but he was, she was angry at him now – just because he was available. Or second – and more likely – she was just engrossed in the reading. Seeing which book she had chosen, he decided for the last option. The book was fascinating, in his opinion, and he was sure she'd want to borrow it.

She marked her page and shut the book. Looking up, she saw him standing in front of her.

"Oh, I didn't hear you," she said, standing up. "I was just reading this paragraph about the effect maybugs can have when added to a Scintillation Solution. Is that really true?"

He nodded.

"Wow," she breathed. "Can I borrow it?"

He nodded again and let a small smile appear.

She went over to the cauldron – he noticed that the colour had changed to a dark brown after adding the hellebore, just like it was supposed to – and took the jar with the nectarine's juice into her right hand, while taking the dried thistle into her left. Simultaneously, she added both ingredients and began stirring.

He watched her working and was impressed. She had improved a lot over the last year. Her stirring movements were more fluent and he could almost see the concentration floating around her head.

But she looked pale. Maybe the fight with the redhead had worn her out. But why would it? They'd fought before and Hermione had never been so… exhausted afterwards.

She put out the flame and cooled the potion with a flick of her wand. Her wand technique had improved, too. She was a lot more subtle and someone not knowing what she was doing wouldn't have noticed the movement at all. He was oddly proud of her. And worried. She really looked ill.

"Hermione, are you all right?" he asked.

She looked up and nodded. "Yes, I'm fine," she said. "Why do you ask?"

"You are quite pale," he replied and studied her face. She had dark shadows under her eyes. How come he hadn't noticed this morning? "Are you not sleeping well?"

"Yes, I am. Why all the question?"

"As I said, you don't look well," he said, dragging her over to the small bathroom. "Look into the mirror."

She did so and was shocked. "I look like the living dead," she breathed. "Maybe I'm ill after all," she murmured. If he hadn't stood behind her, he wouldn't have heard.

"What do you mean?"

Their eyes met in the mirror and she could clearly see the worry in his.

"Oh, I was sick this morning. Threw up my breakfast," she said. "And yes, I did eat lunch," she answered what would have been his next question.

"Okay, you go and see Madam Pomfrey and I'll handle the potion. I just have to bottle and label it," he decided.

Hermione nodded weakly.

He walked her out of the dungeons and returned to his potion, hoping that Hermione wasn't seriously ill.

+~*#

"Oh, dear," Madam Pomfrey said when she saw Hermione. She touched Hermione's forehead and sighed. "Good, no fever. Now you go and lie down and I'll get you something."

Without protest, Hermione went to one of the beds and lay down.

"Here, dear," Madam Pomfrey said, handing her a bottle. "Drink that and you will sleep until the morning. Then we'll see what bothers you, if it's not only a good night's sleep."

Hermione nodded and took a sip of the potion. It was tasteless, and she was glad about it. She downed the whole bottle and fell asleep almost immediately.

+~*#

The next morning, Hermione felt a lot better.

She woke around eight and sat up, still a bit sleepy but well-rested. Her hair, she could feel, stuck out of her ponytail in various places and seemed more bushy than ever. Her clothes lay, neatly folded, next to her bed and she was wearing one of her own nightshirts. Madam Pomfrey must've changed her clothing after she fell asleep.

"Ah, you're awake," Madam Pomfrey called from the door of her office. "And you look a lot better, dear." She came to stand beside Hermione's bed. "I'll have the house elves to bring you some breakfast. Why don't you fresh yourself up a bit?"

Hermione nodded, grabbed her clothes and made her way towards the bathroom. She'd spend so much time at the Infirmary that she knew everything perfectly well. Being friends with Harry Potter, she seemed to be destined to end up at the Infirmary sooner or later. There had been various time when she'd spent a lot of time here. The cat-incident in her second year, for instance, or her case of petrifaction the same year. Her second year was spent at the Infirmary almost exclusively.

She smiled and went back into the main room. Madam Pomfrey had conjured a house elf to bring her breakfast.

While they waited, Madam Pomfrey took some blood from Hermione to examine.

Then the breakfast appeared on a plate and Hermione sat down to eat. But before she could take the first bite, she got terribly sick again, like the day before. She ran for the bathroom and left Madam Pomfrey to stare after her with a thoughtful expression on her face.

+~*#

Draco scowled at the chatting Gryffindors sitting across the table. This morning, the tables had been replaced by one large table.

He sat next to Professor Snape, with Pansy to his right, and tried not to listen to her and Blaise talking about a new shop in Diagon Alley. Across the table sat the two Weasleys and Potter, together with some younger Gryffindors. There were only four Ravenclaw students, all in third year and two Hufflepuffs, one in first, the other in fourth year. They were sitting on each side of Professor Sprout, talking about Herbology. Professor Dumbledore, on Professor Snape's other side, was talking about socks, oddly enough. No one seemed to listen, but he talked on and on. He got on Draco's nerves, so he concentrated on the Gryffindors and on how much he hated them.

They were talking about the mudblood, Granger. Obviously she hadn't been in her bed that morning. How interesting.

"But where is she?" Weasel asked for the umpteenth time. Draco rolled his eyes. Even the mudblood wasn't idiotic enough to be out after curfew, even in the holidays, and stay away for a whole night. She probably was at the Infirmary. It was really hard to believe that Weasley was a pure-blooded wizard. Sometimes he was stupid enough to pass as a squib.

"She's at the Infirmary, Mr. Weasley," Professor Snape said suddenly. Draco glanced over at his Head of House. He hadn't eaten much, seeing how his plate was still full. "I sent her there yesterday afternoon," Professor Snape continued. "She looked ill."

Weasley stared at Professor Snape. He seemed as if wanting to say something, but he didn't. He just stood up and left. Draco, along with Potter, Weasley's sister and Professor Snape, stared after him.

'Odd,' Draco thought. 'Just odd.'

He shook his head. Whatever! He couldn't care less that Granger was ill and Weasel had a crush on her. He decided it wasn't worth a comment and applied himself to another piece of bacon.

+~*#

Ron went up to the Gryffindor Common Room.

Hermione was at the Infirmary. She was ill.

He'd thought she was just avoiding him. But she was ill. He would go to visit her. To hell with is pride. He'd already regretted their fight the evening before. And he'd thought about it the whole night. He'd wanted to talk to Hermione this morning, and when she hadn't shown up… He just figured she was still angry. But now…

He'd go and see her. Now.

+~*#

"No, I'm sorry, dear, but you can't see her now," Madam Pomfrey's voice echoed through the large main room of the Infirmary.

"Well, then I suppose I'll come back later," she heard Ron's voice. Then Madam Pomfrey closed the door and came back to where she lay on the bed.

"Are you feeling better, Hermione?"

Hermione nodded. She sat up. "I'm fine again," she said. "What is this?"

Madam Pomfrey looked slightly uncomfortable. "Well, I tested you blood while you were in the bathroom… and I think I know."

Hermione looked at the Mediwitch expectantly. "Yes?"

"Well, I… It seems as if…" Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat.

Hermione became nervous. Could it be that bad? Madam Pomfrey didn't look too well, and she was shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Was it contagious, what ever it was? "Madam Pomfrey? What is it?"

"Hermione, you are pregnant," she said in a rush.

"What?" she screamed. "NO!" she exclaimed. "You must be kidding me!"

Madam Pomfrey shook her head and Hermione blanched, glad that she was already sitting. She shook her head disbelievingly. It couldn't be. It just couldn't.

But when she thought about it… and slapped herself. "Stupid!" she said to herself. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Of course, she was pregnant. She and Severus had never even thought about contraception, first because of passion overwhelming them and later… she didn't know. Two intelligent people being so stupid. It was so ironic, it almost hurt. She started to laugh, but it felt wrong, so she stopped.

Madam Pomfrey watched the display of different emotions crossing Hermione's face, unable to do anything. She decided to leave her alone to think about her new situation and silently left for her office. She would have to inform the Headmaster, of course, but that could wait until Hermione was in a better condition.

A/N: While writing Paper & Ink I never thought about possible pregnancy. But a friend of mine read the chapter with the shower scene and said: "Hey, he's got time enough to make sure he won't slip but never even thought about a condom. How stupid can he be?" And I wasn't really prepared and tried to pretend that I actually intended this. So my friend asked: "Ah, she gets pregnant, huh?" And well, there you are.

@ Pistol and Irol: It was pretty obvious, huh?

Next time there will be a lot of action… (no, not that kind of action, at least not yet ;-)).