AN: These chapters keep writing themselves without my permission! Especially that last one...mmm...it wasn't very good. But the reviews have spurred me on to a fourth chapter, where I hope to pick it up a bit! Oh, I'm sorry but I'm just not capable of long chapters....these things hit me short bursts.
Disclaimer: Just...look at the other chapters. /points vaguely at the screen
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Last Chapter: Who its father was...? Sputtering on the soup, Hermione tried not to choke as the question repeated in her head.
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"Miss Granger, try to stem the faucets for a bit," an oily voice said and was immediately followed by a slightly yellowed handkerchief.
Hermione lifted her eyes to meet another pair, black and cold. They peered down a rather large nose and matched the stringy, shoulder length hair. She felt her heart rather fall at the sight of her Potions professor, Severus Snape.
Gingerly, she accepted the outstretched square of cloth. Hermione proceeded to dab her eyes then make a loud honk by blowing her nose, before offering it back to Snape. He waved his hand at it, saying he had no use of it anymore.
"What are you doing here, Professor?" she asked, putting the handkerchief next to the food tray on her bedside table.
"I do believe I teach here and am free to go where I please. Moreover, I am some business to discuss with the Headmaster." Snape turned to Dumbledore, obviously wondering whether it was to be discussed here or away from Hermione.
Dumbledore nodded, then with a flick of his wand produced another chair next to him. Snape dusted off his wrinkled robes and sat, almost with a sense of eagerness. He proceeded to pull a sheaf of parchment paper out of his robe sleeve. The writing on it was scrawled as if written in a great hurry and it had torn in places.
"Professor," Hermione began and felt suddenly timid when both fixed her with a stare, "I mean-I was thinking and I wanted to know if...you had any idea who the father was?"
The last part of her question came out quiet and both men leaned in to hear it. Snape's face seemed to flicker at the Hermione's inquiry but was quickly replaced by his expressionless facade. His hand gripped the paper tighter, while his breathing appeared to quicken.
Dumbledore only readjusted his half-moon spectacles. "I do believe we should first begin with how exactly you came to be expecting to acquire a better view of this." He looked over at Snape, giving him the go ahead with a swift nod.
"Voldemort," Snape's eye twitched, "performed a rather old and complex incantation to impregnate you." Hermione could tell immediately that he was uncomfortable discussing such things with her. "It's known as the Conception Spell and has been outlawed due to its harsh nature and unpleasant odds of survive. But the key is, it always works."
"I've read about it. Doesn't it have side effects...."
"Yes, once the woman is pregnant, there is no going back. Miss Granger, you will have to have this baby or else it would kill you in any process to remove it. Binding charms in the incantation ensure this."
Hermione swallowed, hard, at these words. She had never given a single thought to harming the child. Though it had not been her choice, she would never kill anything that was so much of her. Hermione's hands drifted back to her abdomen. The fact that a little boy or girl was growing inside of her still gave her a jolting shock.
Snape faltered over his next words. "As for the father, us wizards are no farther along than the Muggles in matching up DNA and such. Unless we have someone to compare it to, that is still in the dark."
"What do you mean?" Hermione felt her face go red at Snape's calm face as he said those words. "With magic, we can make things fly, turn chairs into bats, and you're telling me that we can't even figure out WHOSE semen is WHOSE?" She now realized she had sat up and was rather close to both faces.
"Miss Granger, keep you're voice down." Snape responded first. He continued, cutting off Dumbledore. "And that's not a very pleasant tone to use with the man who dragged you out of Voldemort's claws."
Snape's eyes were boring holes into hers as they continued the stare off, both unwilling to crumble. Hermione wondered what possessed Snape to care enough to actually rescue her. He had never been anything more than slightly tolerant and always frigid. Dumbledore would have sacked him if he found out Snape left me there, she thought. Or maybe he has a heart after all. Doubtful, yet Hermione had noticed a change in his body language that suggested other wise.
Finally, Hermione broke off and looked over to Dumbledore. He sat straight in his chair, sage robes billowing over on to the floor. She bit her lip, waiting for him to tell her. It was Dumbledore. He knew everything.
"He's right, Hermione, and you know he is. Such a smart witch like you should."
She felt herself give in to the reality. Hermione had known there was no such spell, potion, or incantation to give a parental test out of the blue. The entire library, including the health section, had been poured over by her. She wished for once in her life that she could be wrong. That know-it-all Granger's luck had ran out.
"I was able to obtain some information concerning why you were taken, if it is any consolation to you, Miss Granger," Snape said smoothly. He flattened out the parchment paper on his knee, then handed it to Dumbledore. Hermione watched as Dumbledore's face stayed pensive while reading the tattered paper. After a few pondering minutes, it was handed over to her.
Hungrily, her eyes flicked over ink stained paper. The scrawling handwriting whipped across in a frenzy of lines. Hermione's brow wrinkled as she mouthed out the words. Her expression became more and more confused. She looked up and then back down.
"I don't understand. This can't possibly have anything to do with me..."
Snape nodded his head. "I heard Voldemort himself talking about you and about this." He plucked the paper from her hands.
Hermione's eyes flicked from Snape to Dumbledore. "No," she repeated firmly.
Scowling in her direction, he began to read from the paper:
'Neither good nor evil shall it be
Only innocent until it sees
Both sides then will choose
Who shall receive the Grace'
"According to this prophecy and my sources, you are carrying 'it'"