A/N: The more delicate among you might not like the next 400 words or so, keep that in mind. Some how this fic might lose its PG-13 rating, if you get my drift…
PinkAphid: how many times? No!
Witchintraining: you have the best ideas! Of course. The ideas you said in your email were great, sorry I was booted off the computer before I told you that.
DemonofDoom: I just love cliff-hangers! There will be happy ending. At the end, not now!
Duchess1: I'm not giving anything away; you'll just have to wait ;) thanks for what you said about Holocaust comparisons, made me feel a lot better.
Natsuyori: You know me! Are you quoting Rupert Grint!
SaintEmO: don't be rude to my characters! ;) I'll play them how I like. Though yes she can be a bit dumb, but like all v.clever academic people, she has no common sense.
J: I think I am going a bit over the top with the suspense thing…
Daniher21: This is a weird story I know
MorganLupin: Supsense ;)
Kylala-San: yes it is getting crazy now
I just wrote to all of you? OK, I must be really bored now. Enjoy…or not.

Running To Stand Still

Hermione closed her eyes again, praying this time she wouldn't see his face again; his pale, gaunt, emotionless face branded onto the back of her eyelids. She turned over onto her back and lay looking at the ceiling. Her hand slowly reached down to her belly, she gently stroked it, feeling her cold flesh against her own hand. Could their possibly be a life in there? A little candle that had just been lit? She didn't want to believe it but something, some part of her deep inside, was showing itself for the first time; this could be her child.

She'd not thought about until she had into bed, but though this everything connected. She had shown all the signs after all. And that night; Christmas Eve when she had finally shown Severus how much he meant to her, could that have been the beginning? If that was true then she would be about eight weeks pregnant, she should really check. She longed to feel his naked skin on hers once again, so close, so warm. And as she slept she began to remember the details of that night, the night that would shape her future.


He pulled her into to him, pressing his own naked body against hers. She ran her hands along his back; the smell of him and the warmth of him made her dizzy, his hands were on her leg, pressing her tighter towards him. And then gently up her thigh, to her waist, and then one moved higher. She blushed and tried to pull away, but he was kneading her breast, caressing her gentle curves. They were pressed together, hugging each other so close she found it hard to breathe, their bare legs tangling as one, their hands clasping each other's. She turned away, still scared and ashamed, but he moved closer to her, kissing first her shoulders, and then up her neck until he reached her mouth and then she forgot every emotion she had felt but her love for him.

He pressed his mouth against her breasts, so soft, so delicate; she smiled and rubbed his chest, his muscular ribs always hidden under those black robes and his firm stomach, taut and strong. Again and again, he kissed her until they were drunk with love. And then he looked down at her, asking a question without the need for words, she peered up at him and nodded. He bent the lower half of his body down and entered her body, swift and smooth like a diver to water. She sighed deeply and breathed in the smell around her. No longer conscious of what she was losing; her innocence.


Hermione wriggled, she opened her eyes again, half of her felt so ashamed and confused the other half quietly proud. But it still left her with two problems; she was probably eight weeks pregnant and the father was sitting in a disused tube station waiting for death. Not the best of situations. But decisions were for the morning, now was for sleeping.

When she woke up Hermione went straight to the wardrobe and got dressed; everyone else was still asleep. She went down to breakfast without Harry and Ron, meeting only a few early risers, most of whom were off to finish any homework they hadn't completed over the weekend. Hermione wasn't. She was going to the Hospital Wing. She would find out what was really going on and then make some decisions.

As soon as Madame Pomfrey moved onto the next ward, Hermione opened the door and sprinted to the cupboard on the wall. She had heard tales about this cupboard from older girls. One side contained plasters and bandages, the other things that only older girls would know about. She put her hand in and pulled out the first thing she saw – Mater Test – easy and quick, she heard footsteps behind her and she ran out of the Hospital Wing to the first toilets she found. Behind Madame Pomfrey shut her cupboard and went to find Professor McGonagall, she really should know if Hermione Granger was taking things out of the cupboard.

Hermione sat on the loo shaking the stick, thirty more seconds and she would know. Twenty. Ten. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. She shut her eyes tight, and eventually summoned the courage to open them. Blue. Positive. She sat still for a moment just to register what was happening, and then she began to sob, raucous wailing sobs, her face reddening. The bell went; she rubbed her eyes and splashed her face with cold water, and walked out of the bathroom.

As she walked down the corridor she remembered what Severus had said to her last night; to tell Dumbledore, but she couldn't now, maybe at lunch when she'd calmed down. And Severus he had a right to know, if he was still alive that was. Harry came running down the corridor after her, closely followed by Ron.

"Where have you been? We've been looking for you everywhere." Harry asked,

"Sorry, I just felt like an early morning walk that's all," she put on a jolly tone and tried to hide her so obviously beetroot face from them.

"Are you alright? Have you been crying? Cos if you don't mind me saying you look dreadful." Ron stared at her,

"I'm fine, honest, come on, what have we got next?"

They went to Charms together and chose a bench right at the back. Ron was staring out the window so Harry passed Hermione a note under the table.

What's wrong? Please tell me :)

She looked at him, his eyes had a worried eagerness in them,

I don't want to talk about it

Not even to me?

No

Please, Hermione tell me what's worng, is it Snape?

Kind of

Well what then?

It doen't matter

Really?

I think I might…

What?

I think I might have to tell Dumbledore, he really wanted me to

Harry frowned and weighed up the situation in his mind, he was sure that wasn't what was really bothering her, but t was still something important.

Maybe

"So Mr Potter, what would be the effect of the Fugete Charm?"

A/N: Naughty girl aren't I? This is so not going to stay PG-13. Oh well. None of you lot mind do you? Don't worry, the plot's going to go somewhere next chapter, just needed some questions answering really didn't you? So now we know… :D

You're perfectly entitled to your own views, I'm well aware some will think that that was a load of dirty crap, but hey. Share your views with me please.