Disclaimer: I'm neither British nor am I rich. So how could I own this?
Last Chapter: His face seemed to become more lined as he sighed and said softly, "Yes, Miss Granger, I'm afraid...you're pregnant."
As the words washed over her, they left only a shocked state of numbness in their wake. Hermione's eyes remained locked on Dumbledore's and her hand never strayed from its position as if waiting for him to deny what he'd just said. Silently, she beseeched him to laugh and say that he had only been joking. No such response came. Tears began to break through Hermione's shock, brimming until she knew they would spill over. Holding the floodgates shut, she could only choke out a forced, "What?" in response.
Dumbledore's hand found hers. "Hermione," he reverted to her first name, "You have been missing for over two months." She let out a surprised gasp at this and her other hand clamped over her mouth. "We... we," Dumbledore squeezed her hand, "had feared the worst, that you had been killed. The last anyone had seen you alive was at the Hogsmeade visit in September."
A flashback drifted back to Hermione like a long forgotten dream.
"Hermione," a whiney voice drifted over to her bed, "come shopping with us."
"You know we'd be great at helping you pick a dress for the Halloween ball," added another sugary voice.
She rolled her eyes at Parvati and Lavender's fourth attempt to get her to go to Hogsmeade. Wouldn't those girls ever give it up? Hermione was running out of synonyms for 'no'. Plus, it wasn't like she was helpless when it came to fashion. The dress robes for the Yule Ball had been picked out by Hermione's hand alone.
"The ball is ages away," she tried politely for the last time, "I have plenty of time to pick out one."
A sigh slipped through the slit in Hermione's bed curtains. Hurried whispers were exchanged. "There's a new bookstore opening right next to Zonko's! Did you know that, Lavender?" Parvati said, a little too cheery.
Hermione grumbled and rolled her eyes. "Ok, ok. I'll go!" She pushed back the crimson curtains to see two very smug faces. Maybe she could even buy herself a present for her birthday on Monday.
Having finally shaken off both of her fellow Seventh years, Hermione smiled as she ran her fingers over the crisp spines of various volumes. Her old friends, books had never let her down. Sighing contently, she began browsing the multiple shelves in 'The Paper Menagerie'.
An hour later, Hermione walked out, gripping a new book to her chest. She was in such an excellent mood that she thought perhaps she would let Parvati and Lavender help her with the dress. Hermione still hadn't decided yet on red or—
Her ramblings were abruptly cut off when a black gloved hand reached out from a narrow alley, roughly seizing her arm. Hermione dropped the book she had been carrying as the world faded around her. The book's embossed letters gleamed tauntingly in her failing vision, "Quick Defenses for the Quailing Wizard"
The slight clanging of dishes brought Hermione bumping back into the reality of now. The reality of being pregnant. She began to shake and stifled a sob with her hand. A reassuring pat of the hand from Madam Pomfrey as she sat the tray of soup and crackers in front of her, calmed Hermione a bit.
"Eat, Miss Granger. You need your strength," Madam Pomfrey said. She then thrust a spoon in Hermione's direction and with a pointed nod from Dumbledore, stalked out.
Hermione glanced up at Dumbledore. "How...how could I have been away so long? What did you tell Harry and Ron? Mum and Dad?" The last part came out rushed and whispered. Her grip on the spoon tightened. What were they all going to think? Here she sat, in school, eighteen, and with child. Oh Merlin, she thought as a single tear spilled over onto her cheek.
"You had the obvious symptoms of being controlled by the Imperius Curse for a long period of time," Dumbledore began to tick them off on his fingers, "hazy memory, loosing all sense of time, and disorientation." He rubbed his eyes and continued answering her question.
"I informed the school and Ministry that more than likely DeathEaters had kidnapped you. For what I didn't know. Both Harry and Ron were devastated, as you would imagine. They were quite elated to hear of your return." He smiled to himself remembering the memory. "I wrote your parents explaining your disappearance. Of course, they didn't fully understand the meaning of it, but they have been worried sick."
Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off her question, "Do not worry, no one knows of your condition except for the few involved. I do not have the right to tell what is yours to explain."
She stared down at the slowly cooling chicken noodle soup. It was going to be a long time, she decided, before anyone knew. Hermione couldn't bear the thought of having to sit down with her family and friends and have such a conversation. Think of what they would say. She was sure everyone would be support, saying it wasn't her fault. Then the unspeakable questions would remain floating in the air. How she was going to a raise a child and finish school? How she would support it? Who its father was...?
Sputtering on the soup, Hermione tried not to choke as the question repeated in her head. How had it taken so long to think of that? She dropped the spoon, letting it splash back into the bowl. Hermione released the built up emotions and began to weep openly.