A visit from the sweary fairy at the beginning.
"You, Severus are to get out of life, and stay out. Forever. You've caused me enough trouble already and I am not going to put up with your presence so that you can cause me more malaise." Her words were simple, yet they packed a hard blow to his ego.
Still, her 'goodbye' was completely illogical and uncalled for. "Really now Hermione," he replied, keeping his tone even. "You can not expect me to simply abandon you while you are in this condition. I am a man of honour–"
"Oh cut your bullshit Severus. Imagine what everyone – by everyone I mean your Pureblood friends – would say about you marrying a Mudblood that you got preggers. I bet they would all have a great laugh at that when you visit them at the Death Eater reunion. So just–" she began to weep again, "stay the fuck out of my life."
He was at a loss for words. Should he scramble to protect his dignity with some equally cruel retort or did he try to convince her to take him back, getting down on his knees and begging for her forgiveness? He sighed, he could not deal with this, not twenty minutes back from his five week semi-sabbatical.
Muttering some curses under his breath to signal his obvious annoyance, Severus sneered. "Fine. Blast you Hermione. I really could care less. If you want me out of your life forever, have a wonderful time." With that, he stood up and strode from the room, face impassive, masking the shattering of his heart on the inside.
"Poppy?" Hermione approached the older witch with extreme caution, and nervousness. What she was about to say was far from pleasant.
"Why Hermione! How are you doing?" Poppy smiled and gave a nod to her stomach.
"Just fine but err– there's a rather...never mind, there's something I need to ask you about in private."
Inside the nurse's office, Hermione could feel the blush of shame creeping up her neck and spreading over her face. "I am going to be brutally honest with you Poppy," she said, even-voiced. "I can not have this baby. I am in no place to have a child, and neither is Severus, he made that very clear earlier. I was wondering if you could–" she began to cry a little, damn hormones. "Terminating potion."
Poppy was clearly taken aback by the young girl's request. Clearing her throat she replied, "if that is what you wish Hermione. I only have one vial, and I have never had to use it. It is a relatively simple potion to take, you drink one-half of the bottle, then wait twelve hours before finishing it. You must make absolutely sure to take the second half within twelve hours, otherwise it will have no effect. Within an hour you should feel a burning feeling in the pit of your stomach. This would be – excuse my blunt wording – the foetus dissolving."
With the last sentence, Hermione turned a sickly shade of gray. She was going to dissolve her unborn child? But what other choice was there? Muttering a quick thank-
you she grabbed the vial and bolted from the room. She Flooed straight to her home.
For what was surely hours, Hermione sat on her twin-sized bed and stared at the vial that would make or break the "baby's" life, not to mention her own. Knowing that she was about to do something that was completely against her ethics, and against everything she had ever hoped to achieve. She thought back to when she was a little girl, only six years old or so.
"Mummy, I can't wait until I'm old enough to have all the children I want. I think you and Daddy should have had five more than me!" a tiny girl with unruly brown hair and sparkling honey eyes giggled to her mother.
"Oh Hermione, you know that all your father and I wanted was one beautiful child to complete our lives, and we got just that. When you grow up though, when you fall in love and get married, you can have all the children you want, okay?" Jeanette Granger smiled serenely at her young daughter.
"I will Mummy, just wait and see, you'll have so many grandchildren!"
She sighed deeply, bringing all the emotions up from the pit of her soul and out in her exhalation. Resting a hand on her stomach she murmured, "I'm so sorry baby. I am. But it's better this way, for everyone. The life that I could give you would not be what you deserve, and adoption is frowned upon in the wizarding world. You would have been so brilliant, your daddy was a renowned Potions Master and I was his apprentice until we fell in love. But it wasn't love, and I know that seeing you every day would remind me of him and then I would be a terrible mother." She sniffed and wiped tears from her eyes. "I'm babbling like a senseless fool. I am simply prolonging the inevitable. Forgive me...please."
"Severus!" his brisk walk to the Great Hall was interrupted my a yell from Poppy Pomfrey. Rolling his eyes, Severus turned around and droned, "What?"
"I was wondering how Hermione was doing since she had taken her potion. It's been nearly a day since I gave it to her, and I hope it worked."
Although he cared not for how Hermione felt, his curiosity was piqued. "What potion?"
Poppy gave him a slightly wary glance. "You know...the Terminating potion she asked for yesterday. I assume you two had discussed this matter?"
Terminating potion? The term hit him directly below his chest, in the solar plexus. He felt all the oxygen rush out of his body as he entered a state of shock. She had terminated the pregnancy? No, no, no. She could not have. That was not part of his plan. He was to go to her flat and explain himself, and hope that she would forgive him. Then they could get married, regardless of what everyone said. She was not supposed to have done that. This had to be some sick joke. He turned and ran, grabbing his wand to Apparate to her flat, which he knew of thanks to Potter.
Appearing in her kitchen with a loud crack, Severus's spy training made him quickly take in his settings. The place was small and cramped, but it had lovely windows with a view of a crumbling building no doubt identical to the one he was standing in. "Hermione?" he called experimentally. No answer.
Panic began to flood his veins. The Terminating potion was extremely dangerous, and was not to be taken without the observation of a medical professional, or experienced potions brewer, such as himself, as it would be jumbling around her insides, and literally zapping part of her, and the fact that she was not even nineteen years old did nothing to ameliorate the situation. She could have suffered massive blood loss, haemorrhaging, she could have had an allergic reaction to one of the many rare ingredients in that potion. The possibilities for harm were endless.
He did a thorough check of the flat. No sign of her, or even that she had been there. Making his way into the minuscule bathroom, he observed the one thing he had hoped not to see – an empty vial. He could clearly read the words "Terminatio Parvutus" – Terminate Child -- labelled on the glass bottle. She had been here, but when? And where was she now?
Forgive the shortness.This is so I can continue with the rest of the story ASAP.
