Note: I wrote this immediately after Chapter Nine because at first they were going to be just one chapter, but I thought it would be better to break them up and not bore you all to death. This is when things start to really get angsty but be strong, get through it, because it's definitely worth it. The usual disclaimer applies... :)
The months slowly rolled by at Hogwarts, and everyone settled into their routines. All previous events had been forgotten, in the excitement of Yule and the students postponed worrying about exams and other stressful events, and had fun instead. Hogwarts, as usual, got into the festive cheer with beautiful and vivid decorations, the annual scrubup that made the school such a cheerful place to be.
The sky outside slowly got darker earlier and earlier, and pretty soon Christmas was around the corner. Trees clutched at people with their naked branches, the lake froze over so on Saturdays eager students could be seen ice skating, and what's best, a thick white blanket of snow settled around the castle. It wasn't long before students were to be sent home for their Christmas holidays, except for the ones that decided to stay. .
Hermione looked up from her porridge. "I don't want it."
"Yes you do, Hermione," Parvati insisted from across the table. "You need breakfast, it's the most important meal of the day."
"Who told you that?" she grumbled.
"You did," Parvati smiled. "A couple of years ago when you were in lecture mode; it's some of the best advice I've ever been given, and I've never forgotten it. So eat it up."
"I don't want to."
"Why?"
"Because I'm getting fat," Hermione said stubbornly. Harry sighed from nearby.
"You're not fat, Hermione," he insisted, but even he couldn't deny that she had gained a little weight. Still, he thought appreciatively, she looked good for it. The extra weight made her look more cuddly and curvaceous, and her face prettily round.
"I am fat," she insisted. "And besides, I feel too sick to eat." She clutched at her stomach and moaned. "Oh I'll see you later guys- I don't think I can face food, or anything for that matter. I'm glad it's the holidays because if I had to sit through Potions right now, I'd probably spew all over Snape."
Ron laughed. "I wish it WAS Potions," he said. "Snape's face would be worth it!" Hermione smiled weakly. He was making an effort, but he'd never speak to her properly again- she was sure of that. Ever since her birthday he'd been politely civil, though recently he was trying a bit harder for them to get along, and she appreciated it; Harry was a great friend too, but she missed Ron.
She said her goodbyes and rushed out of the Great Hall and into the Entrance Hall, clutching her stomach again. She felt extremely nauseous; there was a dry taste in her mouth and her senses seemed to be not working properly. She grabbed at the banister with one hand and struggled to climb up the stairs, her head lolling uncomfortably. It seemed like an eternity before she was on the right floor, but sure enough she managed to get there, crawling on her hands and knees she felt so ill.
She was sure it was because she was so hungry, but then again how could she eat when she was getting so fat? Her stomach in particular had swollen and it made her feel sick to remember the once svelte figure she had had. What was worse, no matter how little she ate she still kept putting it on! All the Muggle diets she'd tried had made no difference, and after a few days she always gave in because Hogwarts made such tasty, nourishing food.
Another wave of nausea swept over and she groaned. Her stomach squeezed and her eyes watered; and before she knew it she was vomiting weakly over the carpet. Thirty seconds later and it was over. She climbed to her feet, wobbling slightly and tried to make a few more steps. She managed to drag her way over to the portrait of the Fat Lady, her head spinning so fast she could hardly see where she was going..
"Password, dear?" she said. "Oh! What's wrong?"
Hermione's vision had gone blurry. The world was spinning out of control and in front of her she saw not one portrait but three; her now empty stomach gave a jolt and she cried out in confusion and distress; she tried to grab something but she couldn't see clearly. She couldn't take it any longer- she fell to her knees, and put a sweaty hand to her head, but her vision was worse.
"I'll get someone to fetch help," was all Hermione heard before she passed out, unconscious.
******************
"Hermione." Hermione fluttered her eyelashes slowly, and opened her eyes to see bright white around her. She was in the Hospital Wing, and Professor McGonagall was sitting watching over her kindly, next to Madam Pomfrey. Both of them looked incredibly worried, their foreheads were puckered and their mouths thin lines. But as soon as they saw Hermione was awake, they both smiled.
"How are you feeling?" Madam Pomfrey whispered.
"I'm okay, I guess," Hermione said thickly. In actual fact, she could feel nothing- she felt numb, empty. Her voice was slowed down, probably by some healing spell that Madam Pomfrey had cast.
"You've been ill, I understand." Madam Pomfrey continued; though she smiled, her eyes were still anxious.
"Yes. What happened to me?"
"Well, a lady in a portrait kindly called an emergency to her neighbours, and they passed it on until it came to Professor McGonagall, and we came for you immediately. However, you've been asleep for quite some time now."
"How long?"
"About twelve hours."
"Twelve hours! But- but I don't remember a thing."
"Well, you were very ill. You haven't been eating properly, I don't think. You seem to be empty- well, I took a few tests while you were asleep to check you're okay."
"And am I okay?"
"Er…" Madam Pomfrey glanced at Professor McGonagall. "Yes, of a sort, though you still need some more rest. You can leave the Hospital Wing in the morning."
Professor McGonagall hadn't spoken all the while through the conversation, and finally she decided to talk. "I need a word alone with you Hermione. It's serious. Thank you, Poppy." Madam Pomfrey nodded and left Hermione and her Head of House alone.
Hermione felt a jolt of nervousness. Professor McGonagall looked very grave indeed, and there was no trace of the usual snappishness in her tone.
"I don't know what happened, Miss Granger, but you have been keeping a secret from me and I need to know the details. You must tell me everything if the appropriate action can be taken."
"What?"
"Well, the results confirmed what I had been thinking for a long time Hermione. And I don't like this- I don't like this at all. Obviously, I'm disappointed that you didn't tell me- and very angry that this should happen at ALL- for a girl of your high intelligence Miss Granger, you should know that this is wrong!"
"Professor, I don't know what you're talking about."
Don't let it be it, Hermione prayed silently. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't be!
"What's wrong with me?" Hermione asked faintly, though she already knew, how had she not worked it out before? Professor McGonagall took a deep breath.
"You're pregnant."
Big cliffie huh? I love cliffies because you usually keep reading!.
