Chapter Seven: Face the Dawn
"I can't do this."
Without waiting for an answer, Hermione turned away from the gates of Hogwarts. The pale look on Harry's face told more than words that he felt the same way. Rolling his dark gray eyes, Blaise just stepped wordlessly in way of her escape route. The Weasley twins quickly flanked the Slytherin. Placing his hands on her shoulders, Seamus turned her back towards the gates. The bushy-haired witch dug in her heels.
"No, I can't do this, you guys. I really can't. This won't work."
"Well. As long as you're being positive..."
"Not helping, Zabini," Harry snapped, releasing some of the pent-up agitation of retuning to the prep site for the Final Battle. Blaise just grinned at the familiar phrase.
"There is absolutely no way in Hell this plan will work."
Her chest heaved as her breathing sped up. Iron bands wrapped around her heart as sweat poured off of her. Her tongue felt much too big to be in her mouth. A grey fog began to fill her vision. She could feel her eyes rolling back into her head. A single thought crossed her mind before the world went dark.
'So this is what it's like to die.'
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Hermione came back to consciousness without that murky middle ground. She lay still for a moment to let the still familiar sounds of Hogwarts filter through the whitewashed walls of the Hospital Ward. Then she had to close her eyes against the tide of memories that threatened to drown her. They were just too painful to acknowledge, not now--not when the clock was ticking down tell she had to tell Professor Snape about the baby. With that thought, she sat upright in bed and looked around her.
Her honor-guard surrounded her even in their sleep. On opposite sides of her, Harry and Blaise Slept in what looked to be very uncomfortable chairs. They both were slouched down in their chairs with their hand bowed to each other like ninjas before a fight. On the cot behind Harry, Fred was curled around George. Her muggle-raised mind skipped over the rather suggestive placement of Fred's hand. It was still a little difficult for her to grasp the difference in acceptable behavior for identical twins in the Wizarding world from the muggle world. Seamus was sprawled on another cot, this time behind Blaise.
She spent a thoughtful moment watching them sleep before the memory of the child inside her wiggled its way to the forefront of her mind. 'One chance.' Hermione immediately threw back the thin coverlet and swung her legs off the bed. The cold shot through her entire body the moment her feet touched the floor. She couldn't suppress the shiver that racked her small frame. But she couldn't let the cold stop her. The chill of the infirmary was nothing compared to the arctic temperature of the dungeons...the dungeons that Severus Snape called home.
She found him where she had always found him on these night during seventh year when she couldn't sleep, but it was too late to patrol: in the dungeon classroom used for Advanced Potions. He was doing the same time he would always be doing when she stopped by to see him, her mentor. Who can imagine Severus Snape doing anything other than brewing something? It was what he did, all he ever did for either side aside from pass along information. His potions were his children. Who was she to wish that he would some day look her child with the same gleam in his eye as when he looked at a perfectly brewed batch of Vertiaserum?
Hermione stood watching him for a long moment. His movements were so methodical, so graceful. It was like watching a ballet dancer move around the lab. His knife never hesitated as he cut roots evenly. Even a muggle could see that this was a master working his craft. Severus moved too surely to be anything else. Too rarely were his talents recognized. Even with the thanks that Harry and she pressed upon him over the years, so many ignored him.
He turned to move the cauldron off the small burner. In a motion she remembered from her days at Hogwarts, his eyes flicked towards the door. They did not stay long. It was a habit, nothing more. Suddenly, he looked back up and froze. The potion-filled cauldron in his hands let loose a cloud of steam, obscuring the surprised look on his face. The flame flicked at his elbow and the mask was back. It was a punch to the stomach to see that condescending look after all these years. Then their eyes met as they had that first night so long ago. Something flickered in the blackness of his eyes. He looked away before Hermione could identify it.
"What are you doing here at this hour, Miss Granger?" he asked as he busied himself clearing away excess ingredients from the desk at which he was working. The cauldron absently floated to a student desk in the front row. Recognition was instant. It was her desk. He had kept to the habit that she had ingrained upon him. Hermione stepped farther into the classroom. She had to fight the urge to shiver as her bare feet followed a familiar path across the frosty stones. It was June. Why was it so cold?
"I don't know what hour it is--I just woke up. Is this a Madonna Regret elixir? I thought it had to be brewed by the mother fresh." She felt his eyes on her. Her eyes stayed glued to the tempting blue surface of the potion even as she was careful not to breathe in any of the fumes. Madonna Regret had to be drunk to be fully effective, but the fumes could cause complications for an expecting mother. A low growl drew her attention back to the potion-maker. He wore a scowl upon which Harry and Neville had special dibs. She could tell his rage by the almost sibilant quality of the words when he next spoke.
"You pass out the moment you arrive here, and the moment you wake up, you decide to come down here--to the dungeons where it is magically kept cold--in nothing but a dressing gown. Are you trying to kill yourself, Miss Granger? I must say that you are certainly going the correct way about it." He took a deep breath as if to calm himself. Hermione could picture the thoughts as they left his head. "No, it's not Madonna Regret. The drop of blood from the mother has not been added. Regret potion has a much longer storage like than Madonna Regret does. I only have this ill task every four years or so. Was there anything you wished to discuss before you freeze to death?"
She shivered in response to his question. The last in her body heat flooded her face. What had she been thinking? She might as well give up now. She wrapped her arms around herself. Sobs began to rack her small body. From far away, she heard Severus asking what was wrong. She tried to tell him, but her teeth chattered so much that she couldn't speak. Ice bands wrapped around her chest, squeezing so tightly no air could find its way inside her lungs. A spot in the middle of her chest flared in pain. 'My heart, that's my heart. It's going to explode. Oh, my god, it's going to explode.' Her knees gave way. Her eyes met his and she saw that look again, that look that he had in his eyes when she had asked what he thought of her marrying Ron. She closed her eyes so that she would not have to see that fearful look.
Suddenly, heat flooded her system. She felt two strong arms lifting her off the arctic floor. Instinctively, she curled closer to his heat. The bands around her torso loosened. She sucked air into her deprived lungs. Her body slowly got back into a rhythm of breathing and pumping blood. Without any real effort, she timed her breathing with Severus' as if it was natural, acceptable. Her sobs faded away as he rubbed her back, muttering soothing nonsense into her hair. She shook her head to deny what he was saying. How can it be all right? Nothing ever is all right. Everything always goes south at the last minute.
"--mione, answer me. Hermione, what is going south on you? Hermione?"
"I'm going to lose the baby, aren't I?"
There was a moment of stunned silence. Hermione didn't really notice. The extremes of temperature had left her with a drained feeling. Having only three hours sleep, plus however long she was out this afternoon, was catching up with her. She was content to just rest her head on the Potions professor's shoulder and let him try to figure everything out. It had been too long since she had some decent sleep. Severus stiffened, then forced himself to relax.
"You're pregnant?"
She had barely nodded before Severus was standing up, taking her along with him. She let out a small sound of protest that he quickly shushed. Giving up to the approaching unconsciousness, she allowed him to take them wherever they were to go. He would not allow any harm to come to her. Besides, she couldn't muster the energy to ask where they were going.
"How did you get past your pride of men that refused to leave your bedside?"
"S'epin'," she mumbled into his neck. Her cold nose found the pulse point in his neck as her hands fisted in the soft material of his robes. She heard the creak of a door opening. After a whispered word from Severus, she heard the click of it closing again. "An' Bay's not a lion...tho' he in a Gr'fin'or of'en."
"I did not wish to hear that, Miss Granger." He set her down on something soft; too soft to be a hospital cot. He tried to move away from her, but her fingers held tight. "You must let go, Hermione. I have to get a blanket for you."
"Stay...please?"
He hesitated. She could feel the tension rolling off him. Even an arms-length from him, she noticed. It was almost as if he was torn. She forced her eyes opened to look at him. There was that look again. He had it when she had almost kissed him in seventh year. If it was not fear, it was a very close relative. It woke her up just a little bit.
"Please?"
"Where is the father, Hermione?"
"He wouldn't want to be a part of our lives. Please stay," she whispered, blinking tears away from her eyes, "if only for tonight." As if he had been waiting for that codicil, he shifted his weight back toward her. He let her curl up beside him. "Thank you, Severus," came her last words before sleep claimed her.
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"Are you sure we should bother him, Professor? Snape can be a real grouch when's he's disturbed."
"Professor Snape, Harry. He may not be your professor anymore, but he is still a professor." McGonagall's tone was as strident as it ever was during her tenure as Transfiguration teacher. Blaise's hand shot out before the old witch could knock on the door to Snape's private quarters.
"Potter has a point, Headmistress, and this time, it isn't the top of his head. Severus would not take kindly to an intrusion on his sleep, particularly if that intrusion has something to do with a muggleborn student that he never liked in the first place."
"As her mentor, I'm sure Professor Snape would wish to help locate Hermione."
"And I don't have a point on the top of my head."
This time when the aging woman went to knock, Harry and Blaise were too busy squabbling to stop her. It took a moment before the door swung open. The childish fight came to a sudden halt as all three stared into the narrow opening into the snarky professor's room. Harry and Blaise glanced at each other hesitantly before following McGonagall into the Potions Master's rooms. Surprisingly, they were not greeted with a snarling Severus Snape. A worried look came onto McGonagall's face.
"It's only supposed to open automatically if Professor Snape is unable to answer the door."
"That sounds like something Snape would do."
"Professor--"
"Oh, do be quiet, you trio of crackling hens," Snape interrupted in a loud whisper from another room. The trio pushed the semi-opened door more so, wide enough to see if Snape was dressed for company. After seeing that they were not going to see more of Snape than they currently wished to, they pushed the door opened farther. The room was clearly Snape's bedroom. It was not what Harry had expected. There was no green, no silver. None of the House colors had made their way into this room. Other than that, it looked like a dorm room. "You'll wake up Miss Granger. Considering that she could have gotten hypothermia last night, she's going to need what sleep she can get."
That was when they noticed her. Hermione lay curled up in a set of black teaching robes at Snape's side. The man in question was sitting near the edge of his bed with a book he must have been reading before he heard them talking. Knowing Hermione would ask later, Harry read the title--'Potions and Specialty Magic: What a Brewer Needs to Know'. But it wasn't the book that made his mouth drop open. That was done by the sight of Hermione and Snape in the same bed. Oh, sure, they weren't touching and Hermione had her back to the greasy git, but still...'Mione and Snape!
"H-how did 'Mione get here?"
"Well, she walked--with bare feet--down to the Advanced Potions classroom," Severus drawled. He crossed his arms above the book. "Then I carried her to the nearest place with some temperature above freezing. I informed Poppy where her ward had wandered off to a couple of minutes ago. Now, answer my question: which one of you is the father?"
"WHAT?"
The choked scream from the two retreating men made the glass of water on Snape's bedside table ripple. Hermione shifted in her sleep, pulling Snape's teaching robes closer to her. All four wand-weilders tensed at the movement. Only when the wild-haired witch had settled back to sleep did the conversation continue.
"My apologies," sneered the cantankerous Potions Professor, "I hadn't realized the idea of having a child with a beautiful woman was so repulsive to the pair of you."
"It's not that it's repulsive. It's just--That's Hermione you're talking about there, Severus."
"Yeah, she's like a sister. It would be too weird."
"I believe what Professor Snape was trying to ask was: who is the father of Miss Granger's child?"
"I don't think--"
"We know you don't think, Potter," Blaise interrupted before the Boy-Who-Lived could reveal more than Hermione wished to share. He turned his black eyes to the headmistress. "We aren't at liberty to discuss it. As Miss Granger's barrister, I have to request that this line of questioning be continued in my office during regular office hours. You may call my assistant on Monday."
"To quote Miss Tonks to Mr. Malfoy: 'Chill, little cousin," Severus said. The look on his face spoke volumes of what he thought of the phrase. An awkward tension formed between the two former students and the Head of Slytherin House.
"If Miss Granger feels that there is need for an attorney," the Animagus said soothingly, "then I'm sure there is need for an attorney." McGonagall pinned Blaise with a look that Harry knew well, that 'it-would-be-for-the-best-to-tell-me-everything-because-I-just-want-to-help' look. "Does Miss Granger believe there is need for a barrister?"
"We are not at liberty to--"
"Let's just get 'Mione to Madam Pomfrey. Zabini, can you get her?"
"Why do I have to carry her?"
"Because you're related to him." The other three occupants of the room stared at him for a moment. Harry rolled his eyes. "I rather not have any more headaches than I'm already going to have before the end of the day."
"Fine," her roommate conceded. He got her over Severus by levitating her before anyone could blink. With Hermione back in their possession, the twenty-three-years-olds left. The somber pair met up with the other members of Hermione's makeshift family in the entrance hall. The twins' triumphal trill echoed throughout the entrance hall, finally waking up Hermione. The five men eagerly told her that she had succeeded in meeting the deadline with at least nine hours to spare.
"Oh," she whispered. She looked back to the stairs leading to the dungeons. Familiar shadows hid everything pass the forth step from her sight. 'How was he taking it? What did he think of me having another man's child?' With a Herculean effort, she pushed the questions from her mind and straightened her back. 'Onward to the next problem. I will not lose my child.'
"I want to tell Lanai by myself."
-/--/--/--/--/-
Over the years, Hermione would wonder about what she told the world about her pregnancy, usually in the rare peaceful moments after she had gone to bed, but had not yet drifted off to sleep. The question was always the same. Should she tell more than she did? Would it be safe? The entire Wizarding world knew that she had been ordered to move into Pendragon Keep by the Head of the Pendragon family.
It had been on the front page of the Daily Prophet the day after she finished unpacking the last box. The by-line belonged to a certain beetle with horrid glasses. It didn't surprise her that the same article announced that she was pregnant and eluded that the father was a particular attorney who also happened to be her roommate for six years. The next day had a picture of Blaise snogging Seamus in front of Gringotts. Harold Lovegood printed a full expose on the two men's relationship. Out of respect, he did not print anything about her pregnancy.
Overall, it was not bad a bad thing, living at the Keep. The Pendragon estate had wards that were almost as strong as those protecting Hogwarts. The grounds were nearly as expansive as the magical school's, but without the lake or forest. The Keep itself was huge. There was a section set aside for members of the family. For the first few months after she gave birth, Hermione never left those rooms. Thank Merlin, McGonagall sent her Winky. The house elf refused to accept any money, but was content with spoiling any children that came within her care.
Even when the going got rough, Hermione never regretted having her twins.
Twins.
She had not expected that to say the least. Neither had the medi-witch. Twins had never been born from the procedure before. The Granger twins were three before there was a conclusive answer for what happened. It all came back to a sneeze. So simple a thing, yet it meant so much to the Wizarding world.
Twins were rare, and thus special, in the magical community. Most magical infants died before they were a year old, girls especially. Between three major wars in a century's time and the difficulty accompanying the birth of a magical child, the Wizarding world was experiencing a decline in population. Twins were considered lucky by pureblood traditionalists for all those reasons and so much more. This thought pattern was reflected by magical law.
For the most part, identical twins (like Fred and George) were treated as one person. They alone were exempt from the Ministry's incest laws. Identical twins could even marry, if they obeyed the same laws as same sex couples. The latter could marry provided they had a Third (a member of the opposite sex) for procreation purposes. There was also no such thing as divorce. However, any marriage in pureblood circles was a delicate balance of politics. It took years sometimes to sort out the proper mixture of breeding, politics, and familial connections. Most of this research was done by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Only small laws had managed to pass restricting who could marry whom. However, some things not even identical twins could get away with.
Then there was the fact that the twins were magically conceived. When combined with their twin-ness that meant that they couldn't be separated by more than one wall until at least age five, if then. Some magical conceived twins could never be separated. Different spells had different effects. Hermione always felt that she was lucky whenever Eddie went to spend the night at Ginny's or Sera visited the Nest. She would never admit to sneaking out in the middle of the night to check on the wayward twin.
But the incident at the fair in honor of the tenth anniversary of the Final Battle was what really scared her. Somebody had tried to kidnap Seraphim. If it had not been for Severus Snape, Donovan would have gotten away with the small girl. All of Hermione's family had searched the fairgrounds while Hermione struggled to calm down the hysterical Eduardo. It wasn't long before the entirety of the two gypsy troops that were there had joined the search. But the Death Eater would have still escaped if it had not been for Severus' timely visit to the greenhouse for fresh potion ingredients.
There had been a horrible moment of time when the boys had shown back up without anything to show for an hour searching. Lavender had turned so pale that Draco and Harry forced her to sit on the steps of the Cooper lead wagon. Lanai muttered angrily about how she was going to maim whoever had the nerve to still one of her heirs. Hermione's gut had twisted as more of the Cooper and Prince clan s had shown up, all silently shaking their heads. Then Eddie had stopped screaming and that knot turned to ice.
"Sera," he whimpered looking over her shoulder. She heard those around them shifting. Lanai, Blaise, and Draco relaxed. Harry and Seamus came to attention, but not dangerously so. The gypsies were grabbing makeshift weapons. Those that were actually witches or wizards were drawing wands. All eyes were focused on the man making his through the crowd, a girl with wild black curls in his arms and an unconscious man floating behind him.
It was Severus Snape.
And he was surrounded by a protective ring of male relatives. Only little Seraphim's cuddling closer to him kept him from being skewer. The sight of the potion master holding their daughter had made her wonder if she should tell him that he was the father after all. She had spent hours on that question. In the end, she decided not to rock the boat.
It wasn't as if the twins wanted for a father figure. Between Blaise, Seamus, Neville, Draco, and Harry, that role was covered. Fred and George were there for those questions that only another twin could answer. Rity was hardly ever around anymore, but she did visit a couple of times a year. Even the muggle repelling wards on the Keep weren't enough to keep the Cooper troop from visiting occasionally. Lanai was very happy to play grandmother, as was Molly. Arthur took to being a grandfather like a duck to water.
Neville and Ginny were near constants at the Keep. The increasing number of Weasleys in a variety of forms made sure that the twins never lacked for playmates. Harry brought over his daughter Celestine every Saturday since she was born. At first, it was mostly to be babysat, but gradually it changed into a new version of her visits to the Nest. Draco didn't come often at first. He would use the day to visit his mother in Ward Forty-Nine at St. Mungo's. After Narcissa's death when Celestine was five, he started coming around more. In lieu of her friend, Lanai stepped up as a grandmother role for the motherless girl. It was hardly mentioned, but both men were thrown through a loop when Lavender died a few hours after her daughter's birth.
Time had worked out everything. The widespread group was now as much a family as any that was born. Some were bound by magic, some by love, and some by vows. Others were bound by friendship and challenges met together. Did it really matter that one bound by blood was excluded?
That really was such a small thing.
(--) End of Part One of Weaving Lives (--)