AN: Wow…a lot of pity for Remus in the last chapter. Perhaps I should be nicer…naw…then this wouldn't be a 'drama.'
Disclaimer: Tengo nada a mi nombre. Pues…unos boligrafos y un zapato pero que es!
Reviews: /hug – Jay, InfinityEstel, Radingsouls4u (Who knows how the little one will turn out? Think if Voldie becomes the mentor…), zeusfluff, Entr'acte Sprite (The dagger is pretty sinister. I love it:D The father shall be brought up next chapter.), Smiles28, cdkobasiuk, Gecko149 (Has someone been saying stuff about my fics? Well do what you need to, just don't get caught. ;)), and Aelimir (Snape is the greatest to write. So nasty! He will return also in the next chapter…I might keep him off Remus.)
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Last Chapter: A snide voice from the back added, Can't hide your true nature, at least not from someone who's going to be around you all the time, can you? Inwardly, he growled, Get out of my head, Severus. Damn you, I'm trying to keep her away!
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An overcast sky hung above the outside world. All of nature, the part that could still be seen on the rare occasion, watched and waited silently in the frigid cold for the clouds' promise to be fulfilled. However, they were not the only ones sitting in silence, waiting. The inhabitants of the still, deceivingly empty looking house they passed by often stood in an unnatural quiet. Such a blanket, a mute shroud over the place made the house seem stiff with it and unequivocally forced. Unfortunately, once a mind is made, it is hard to turn it back, even if it feels at fault. Sometimes the mind reasoned that the worst would be for the best with the head overruling the heart. A different waiting had begun and stronger forces were at work than anything in nature.
The visit from Madam Pomfrey certainly broke the silence as efficiently as a hammer to a piece of glass. She arrived in hustling bustle and a flurry of starch white matron dress. A woman like her did not go around mollycoddling unless it was justly deserved but she did give a fuss over Hermione. Her voice could easily be heard as she slammed down her formidable black bag and said, "What are doing standing up! You are in a very delicate state. Lie on the bed now – easy does it. Here let me get you another pillow!"
Instantly Hermione complied. One did not go against Pomfrey or else they would find themselves on the receiving end of a particularly nasty tasting potion. The older woman buzzed back in with a pillow confiscated from Remus' room. Pomfrey shoved it behind Hermione's head and she felt herself sink into it. The pillow smelled of Remus: his aftershave, the outdoors, and a slightly smoky aroma. Hermione wondered where he was exactly at the moment. Over the past week, he had been making himself scarce ever since the full moon. Now was no exception.
As if reading her mind, Pomfrey asked, "And where is Remus? He knows I like to check him over after a full moon."
"Well," said Hermione, watching apprehensively as Pomfrey unpacked a long, pointy object, "he said he would be in town for a bit. When he comes back, you really need to look at a cut on his forehead. I tried my best at it but I think it needs some professional aid."
"Surprised he even let you do anything to it. That man has to have been my worst patient. Absolutely hates to have a fuss made over him, especially anything to do with his condition." She shook her head as if recalling past instances. "Don't be surprised if he doesn't let you in the future. Took him years to get used to me," she paused to take Hermione's pulse. "Can't imagine why. I'm a very skilled and gentle nurse!"
Pomfrey emphasized her last statement with a swift prod to her patient's arm, which left Hermione rubbing the tender spot. Can't even imagine why anybody would want to escape that tender loving care, she thought sardonically. The matron's attention was now on her wand, reading the ticker tape that was spurting from the end after the prod. She murmured and frowned slightly as she read it. Finally, she ripped the end off and turned her gaze back to Hermione.
"It seems," she started, "that your body is in excellent health, although I do advise you – after seeing this –," she held up the tape, "that you try and stay away from spicy foods. Your stomach is listed as disagreeable."
That earned a quizzical look. Would she next hold her head to Hermione's various organs and converse with them to see if they had any complaints? Perhaps, Madam Pomfrey was having an off day today or maybe it was the journey by Disappearing Dust. Hermione had begun to hope desperately that Remus would appear so she would not have to go through this alone even if he did not say anything.
"Seeing how you're in good health, let's now get down to the real matter of business." Pomfrey brought around the vanity chair and sat in it then brought out a sheet of parchment and quill. Her back was turned from the door. "How is everything going? Having any problems? Discomforts?"
Hermione shook her head. "No. Everything has been going fine except for some nausea here and there." As she finished, she looked up to see Remus poking his head around the door and looking intently into room.
"So you haven't experienced any body aches, heartburn, bleeding, or breast tenderness?"
At that point, Remus had promptly removed his head from the door and Hermione's steady gaze, which was highly misleading as she was trying not to laugh. Not as though Pomfrey noticed any of the exchange since she was not facing the door or Remus' slightly embarrassed expression. Her eyes looking over her glasses demanded an answer.
"Oh," Hermione half stuttered and half laughed, aware that Remus still stood outside the door, "well, maybe just a little of those, yes, but nothing really serious. I mean nothing that has warranted any special treatment."
"That's good." Madam Pomfrey nodded as she took notes. "All those should be starting to lessen since you are now going into your second trimester and the fourth month. Even better news is that you're out of the most potentially dangerous part; you can rest easier."
Hermione looked down at her hands as the quill continued to scratch across the page. When she looked up, Remus had actually entered the room this time, assuming the conversation had returned to much more safer topics. His face was redden from the cold and wind along with what happened earlier. Tousled brown hair stuck out in odd places and he waited patiently for Pomfrey to finish before saying, "Hello, Poppy. Nice to have you drop by."
"There you are Remus. You look well, though Miss Granger informed me about your cut. Here sit down on the bed," she stood up and then sat him down beside Hermione, "and I'll fix you up."
She had returned to her black bag and stuck her arm down into it so that the entire limb had disappeared up to her shoulder. Apparently, whatever she need she had packed on bottom.
Remus turned to Hermione and whispered low to her, "She didn't sit me down on you, did she?"
"No," she grinned faintly, "you're fine. Better you have her attention than me."
With that, the matron came back with gauze soaked in something turquoise and her wand out. "Hold this on it for exactly two minutes," she handed the gauze to Remus, "and then I'll mend it up. So," she looked back at the girl sitting up in the bed, "have you been reading any of the medical books Dumbledore sent along?"
"I've read some in them, but I'm not finished."
That earned her a tsk-tsk. "You need to read as much of them as you can. These next few months will be your easiest, so enjoy them because the third trimester is not a trifle." Seeing Hermione's expression, she quickly added, "No need to really worry, dear, that's when you'll gain most of your weight for the pregnancy."
"Has it been two minutes yet, Poppy?" asked Remus. "This is sort of starting to sting."
She looked down at her watch. "Goodness me it's been four minutes. Take that off this instant! I need to close that up." She firmly held Remus' head in her hand to keep him from moving and pointed her wand directly at the cut. A few words and the now blue-tinged gash grew in towards itself. It only left a fine thin line after it was done.
"There," she glowed down at her work, "you'll have a faint scar since it was not treated right away."
"Thanks," said Remus, trying to flatten his hair over his forehead. "I'll let you get back to where you were." Believing he was done, he rose from the bed, leaving only a warm spot and slight indention where he had been. He returned to stand in the doorway.
"I won't be much longer. I don't want to over exert you on my first visit," she directed the last part to Hermione. Pomfrey sat back down and took up her paper once again.
"Although you'll gain the most later, you'll still start wearing the maternity we sent along. I tried to keep them from looking too frumpy for you."
Hermione said, "I've already seen them. They're very nice."
Pomfrey looked pleased at this news. "Did you find the undergarments also? You'll want to especially changeover to one of the bras that I sent because - as I'm sure you've already felt the soreness – you will be getting larger there, also."
Remus had suddenly found something very interesting on his shirtfront. He started picking at the seams and buttons. Madam Pomfrey obviously did not care who or what heard what she was discussing whether they wanted to hear it or not.
"Okay, I'll keep that in mind," assured Hermione, thinking all the while if this could get anymore embarrassing. "I've been wondering, Madam Pomfrey, when do we – I mean – when do I get to find out whether it is a boy or girl?"
"Oh you want to know. Well," she paused in thought, "I'm afraid we're going to have to save that until next month. Alright, dear? I've already overstayed this time; they'll be missing me soon at the ward. Before I go, I have a calendar so you can keep track of the time and how far along you are."
She handed Hermione the calendar, which had moving pictures of serene outdoor scenes, trees in the wind and rippling lakes. "You'll be due around the middle of June, dear. And here's some letters and a package Dumbledore asked me to send along." She pulled a shiny box from within her bag and a few envelopes. Hermione eagerly grabbed at them.
"Thanks for bringing me my mail and for coming by."
"It was nothing. Now is there anything else I need to tell you?" She looked at Remus as if he held the answer and he must have because her face took on the look of idea and said, "If you have any trouble sleeping, get an extra pillow to hug, cradle or anything else you can grab." She glanced toward the door before shutting her bag.
"Don't worry," said Remus with a grin. "She's already taken one of my pillows, not just taken, she stole it."
"And you'll let her keep it if you're a gentleman!"
Now out of Madam Pomfrey's stare, Hermione got to her feet. "I thought you were asleep. I didn't think you'd miss it too terribly."
"And you are not too terribly good at sneaking around," he put in.
"Well," interrupted Pomfrey, "I really must be off. I'll send word of my next visit. Keep out of trouble until then and a very merry Christmas to you both." With that, she evaporated into thin air.
"I've a few things down stairs that I need to put up," said Remus, breaking the ever-present silence. "I'll leave you to your mail then."
Absentmindedly, Hermione nodded and said, "Okay. I'll be down in a bit." However, she was completely engrossed in the parcels that sat in her lap. She did not even notice as Remus lingered at the doorway, before shaking his head and leaving. The quickly scrawled 'Hermione' in Harry's handwriting would not release her gaze.
She opened up the brightly papered package first. Inside, lay her first Christmas gifts: assorted candies from Ron, a book Inside the Mummy's Magic from Harry, and at the bottom, the one that started her vision to go bleary, was from her parents. They had sent a Muggle photograph of the three of them, neatly framed in wood. Each had a fixed laughing expression on their faces as the posed in front of the French coastline. Through her tears, Hermione couldn't help but smile; right before that was snapped, a seagull had tried to take off with her father's toupee, which he always denied having.
Hermione moved her knitting to the floor and gently placed the picture on her bedside table along with her other presents. She skipped Harry's letter and opened the other envelope that was from her parents. Inside, they asked how she was doing, if everything was going alright now, and when she'd be able to come home. Dumbledore still had not breathed or written a word. Feeling relieved, she opened up the one from her two best friends and immediately felt sick.
To be direct Hermione, I've had a vision, but this one came after touching something on your letter. It was your blood, wasn't it? In the vision, there was woman; she was giving a prophecy. Does this have something to do with you? And if it does, what's all this with Voldemort? You know you can tell us anything –
Numbly, she stopped reading; another slip of paper had caught her attention. Pulling it out, Dumbledore's loopy writing fanned out on the page, You will be able to leave the grounds soon. I'll send more information later. What happened was out of my control. I've said nothing. Hermione shoved them back in their envelopes before putting them in the top drawer. She would deal with those later. She had told Remus she would be down soon.
Upon hearing Hermione's footsteps on the stairs, Remus frantically looked for a hiding place. Not for himself, but a particular package that he had picked up. Hastily, he opened the closest thing to him, the oven, and slid it in right as she stepped into view.
"Are you baking something?" she asked, looking around him at the oven.
"Uh…well…not at the moment, but I picked up some items incase the urge hit."
Quite a few bags sat scattered around the kitchen. Hermione regarded them silently without really seeing them. She seemed distracted by something. He picked up a bag at his feet and took out another bag. "I picked up some popcorn like you asked and there are some cranberries around here some place."
That seemed to perk her up a bit. "Good. We can string it up later after we get a tree. Unless of course you don't want to – I mean – this is all business for you."
The last remark stung Remus. Officially, it was business and he admitted to himself that he had been trying recently to make it even more so. "It's no trouble. All work and no play make Jack a dull boy or rather it makes him a Severus. We can go right now if you want, though we're going to have to find you some other clothes than those. It's going to snow soon."
Hermione looked down at her sleeping attire that she had worn the better part of the day. So maybe she was not dressed for the cold. She shuffled out and up to her room where she made it a point not to look at the table. Back in the kitchen, Remus waited with another pair of his boots she could wear. It took another pair of socks to keep from flying off. Remus pushed his knitted cap on her head, saying she needed more than he did. They stepped out into the softly falling snowflakes.
Talk of snow had not been idle. By the late afternoon, a few good inches clung to the ground and tree branches. Luckily, for Remus, his chopping skills had not let him down nor his arms or legs since he had been the one dragging the tree into the house. He had levitated it half way there before smacking it into another tree and deciding perhaps that was not the safest way to move it. Nevertheless, a stout fir tree stood in the front room, now half decorated.
Hermione had taken over popping the popcorn on the stove after Remus became distracted by making stars on the tree glow and left the kernels to burn. The tree already looked complete with a few makeshift garlands, magically glowing objects, and the odd little ornament Remus had picked up while out that day, but it was not a tree without a popcorn string, according to Hermione.
"My parents and I always made a string and put it on the tree. That's what they had to use when they were young. How did your mum do hers?"
Remus began helping thread on the pieces of popcorn. "Mum was a half-blood so I guess this is about what hers would have looked like. Half magical and half Muggle, though she started to lean more magical as the years went on. Dad never really liked the strange things she used to put on the tree, so when he left she liberated our Christmas tree."
"Your mum sounds very nice, Remus. I would have liked a chance to meet her."
"I'm positive she would have said the same of you."
With both of them working on the string, it was soon finished and ready to hang. Hermione grinned at the finished product, no longer looking forlorn about where she was for the holiday, away from her family and Hogwarts. Remus wanted to join in the elation, but he kept trying to tell himself not to be caught up in it. Business, full moon, business, full moon…he repeated until it started to become something of a mantra.
Hermione, who finished admiring the hasty handwork that was the tree, retreated into the kitchen and announced she might bake some cookies. This broke Remus from his brainwashing and into a scramble toward the kitchen. Calling to her over the opening of cabinet doors, he said, "Maybe I need to check the oven to see if it's working properly."
Flour in one hand and sugar in the other, Hermione paused half way toward the counter. "Wasn't it working the other day? Unless something happened to it I don't know about, it should be all right."
"That's just it." Remus edged his way toward the oven. "I'll just check it to be sure." He tried to look innocent has he opened the door and bent over to look into the oven. Looking over his shoulder, Hermione's back was to him. Quickly, he took out his wand, shrunk the package, and stuffed it into his pocket.
With a grin, he straightened up. "All looks well."
She glanced up from the bowl she was measuring ingredients into. Flour already clung to her face and Remus resisted the urge to wipe it off. "That's good, though I can't think of what could have been wrong."
"Ah," he shuffled toward the stairs, "it never hurts to be prepared for anything." He left her with a bemused expression and even more baffled thoughts.
The smell of baked goods still hung ever so faintly in the air or maybe it was just Hermione's stomach playing tricks on her. She stared out the window from her lying position on her bed. The stars were starting to become fainter as the day approached. A lumpy package stood out in relief against the dim glow from the outside. Next to it lay crumpled pieces of parchment, rejections. Sleep had not been in her room last night.
Letters had been penned and were ready to send. One for Hogwarts and one for home. She had tried to write them so they would understand something of what was going on, but everything kept being twisted together. Finally, all she could do was be painfully blunt and straightforward. She longed to see them all, especially at the moment. But Hermione kept telling herself she had someone and she was not alone. If that were so, why did she feel like she was, even when he was in the room? What had happened?
Her thoughts drove her downstairs with her present and to the shadow she had been thinking of.
An outline sat on the couch already when she came down the stairs. Remus looked up to see her come down. Her pale nightgown floated as she stepped and with the light behind her, she looked like a angel descending upon the world and Remus suddenly felt unworthy. As she drew closer, he noticed she was a forlorn angel. She hugged an object close to her.
"What are you doing up?" she asked softly as if afraid to break the morning's stillness.
"Couldn't sleep," answered Remus. He moved over so she could have plenty of room to sit down. She sat right next to him.
Her fingers played with edges of her improvised wrapping paper. "Me either. Do you want your present now or do you want to wait until later?"
"Now is fine. Let me get yours first though." He rose, stoked the fire, and returned from the tree with a neatly wrapped box.
They swapped gifts and both said, "You go first," as the same time. After a bit, Remus consented to open his first. He ripped the paper easily and inside lay a knitted navy blue sweater. He ran his fingers over the top before giving Hermione a grateful smile. "Thanks."
She bit her lower lip, thoughtfully. "I hope it fits you. I didn't have any measurements to go on."
"Let's see then," said Remus as he began to slip it over his t-shirt.
Unfortunately, his head could not go through the top. Hermione leaned in to help pull the collar down. The back was the most stubborn. Mentally, she swore at herself for drawing it up too much. Her arms enclosed his neck, as she finally was able to tug enough that his head popped out. His face appeared suddenly from the blue folds, so near that Hermione was staring directly into his gray eyes. "Merry Christmas," was all she could breathe out as she started to remove herself from his neck.
Remus felt her breath on his cheek as she moved away and cupped her face before she had a chance to settle back, and then hesitated. She looked at him expectantly. He faltered too long in that moment and only brought her forehead to his lips. For a moment, he thought he saw disappointment in her eyes, but he knew that was foolish. Who was he kidding even thinking she thought of him in such a way? He relented to himself as he handed her his gift that his plan was not working as he hoped. They were not supposed to get this close. He was a ancient werewolf and she…she…deserved better.
Her fingers expertly opened the tape and the box lid. Inside lay a bound book with a clasp and embossed at the top it simply said Hermione. She flipped through the pages; they were all milky white and blank. A small smile crossed her face before she gave him a quick hug with a thank you.
"I thought you might like something to confide in that wasn't a dry, old professor. Merry Christmas, Hermione."