Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own any of this. It belongs to J. K. Rowling.

This if my first fan fiction, so be gentle, please. Also, it is a bit too dramatic in my opinion, but whatever.

Chapter One--Bad News

"What you want me to do, mother!" Emma cried. "I'm sorry, I just don't know what to do."

The mother gingerly wrapped her arms around her daughter's weeping form. "Do you know who the father is?"

Emma was heedful with her answer. If people at school knew the truth she would never be able to show her face there again. What they had was just what her friends call a liaison Their childish rendezvous were over no matter what now. They weren't ready to be parents, much less the fact that the two would never remain a couple.

The hesitance of the girl's response worried her mother. She averted her eyes, now filled to the brim with tears, away from the other woman's. "Look at me. Tell me you know who the father is."

"Yes, mother. It's… Michael." She hated lying to her mother. Tonight she would go to him and tell him that it was over.

"Does he know?"

"No," she answered, blinking away droplets and brushing them off her face.

"When are you planning on telling him? You know I will not let you raise this child alone. You have school to finish." The older woman walked back and forth anxiously.

"I'm almost done with school. I only have four months left. In June I will be graduated. I can't put this on him right now. He just lost half of his family in the war, mother. This would be too much pressure right now."

"He contributed to this as much as you did. That baby will have a father, even if you didn't. I know how hard it is and I will not let you go through this by yourself."

Why did this have to happen to her now? Michael would never believe that the child was his after finding out about her two-timing him. It seemed so unfair to give him the responsibility that wasn't rightfully his. If she came out with the truth, he would lose his job there would be no chance of ever getting Michael back.

"I have to get ready to go back to school now. I'll be all right for now, and I will talk to you tomorrow."

"Okay, darling, just… be careful. And make sure you visit Poppy frequently and if you feel you need to come home just tell me. Okay? Promise that you will owl me at least twice a week."

"Okay, mother, I promise."

And with that, Emma Dobbs, seventh year Slytherin, apparated out of the house and into the quaint darkness of Hogsmeade village.

Where the hell could she be? He checked the Slytherin common room, and asked one of her friends if they had seen her. He peeked in the library and asked Madam Pince if she was there. Emma was nowhere to be found.

Finally he decided to ask the Headmistress who, like Dumbledore, seemed to know just about everything that happened at Hogwarts. He entered into the office with caution. When he was in school he was not exactly McGonagall's favorite student.

"Good evening, Professor Malfoy. What can I help you with?"

"Good evening. Yes, I was wondering if you knew where Emma Dobbs might be."

"As a matter-of-fact I do, Professor. May I ask of you inquiry?"

"Just a school assignment I needed to talk to her about."

"It just so happens that Miss Dobbs took a visit home this evening after dinner. She should be arriving in Hogsmeade any minute now. I was just about to send someone to escort her back to school."

"May I go? It is really important that I talk to her before it gets too late."

"Go ahead, Professor. If you don't mind, I would like to see you back in my office when you return."

"Yes, m'am."

He turned his back and paced out of the office in a reassured sensation, though still wondering why she could have gone home. Before heading out into the cold February night, he grabbed a cloak from his room. He even hummed a song as he headed along the path to the small village outside the school grounds.

He proceeded towards the outskirts of the village near the Shrieking Shack, which is where most people were known to apparate and disapparate. The snow on the ground crunched under his feet. Ahead of him there was a figure in the shadows he suspected to be hers.

She emerged looking just as she did when he last saw her, her black hair speckled with snowflakes, though her blue eyes seemed to sparkle as if she had been crying.

Draco walked up to her with a half-smile, half-smirk on his face. He expected her to smile back, but she did not.

"What's wrong? Why did you go home?"

"It's nothing. I just… felt like seeing my mum," she chattered timidly through frosted breaths. She was cold so he put his cloak around her shoulders.

Emma didn't say anything, which was unusual for her disposition. It wasn't like her to be so shy, especially around him. He could tell that she was hiding something.

"Something's wrong," he stated.

"Fine, but I'm not going to tell you."

"Why the fuck not? If we want this relationship to work we have to be honest with each other. Right? Isn't that what you told me last week."

"I don't think this is going to work, Draco. Just trust me, okay. This is for the best."

"No, Emma. Tell me what is wrong," he demanded, grabbing her wrist as she tried to walk away. She could sense the alarm in his tone. She felt tears begin to gush out for about the fifth time that day.

"Please, Emma. Tell me what's wrong," his voice quivered.

"You're going to hate me," she whispered, avoiding his gaze.

"No, I'm not."

"If I tell you, it will just ruin your life, so we can't see each other anymore."

"What are you talking about? If you leave me, I'll have nothing else."

"If you love me, then just trust me."

He brought his hand up to her face and tried to comfort her by wiping away the tear from her face. She swatted it away and spun around.

"Damn it, Emma. I want to be with you. You can't just end it like this!" he yelled.

The two just stood there, as moments passed, while the only thing that could be heard was the whistling of the wind. Draco tried to take in what she had said and Emma tried to figure out what to say next.

In a mix of sorrow and rage she whipped around and looked into his hard grey eyes.

"Fine! You want to know so damn bad? I'm pregnant okay! Fucking pregnant!" she shouted as tears spurted out of her eyes like a fountain. She was weeping uncontrollably and raucously. He bent down and covered her with his arms, his gloved hands finding her bare ones.

"No, get off of me!" she shrieked and pushed him away.

"Emma, shut the fuck up. Someone might hear us."

"No, Draco! No, this can't be happening," she repeated until finally all she was reduced to was hiccups and on the ground.

"It's going to be okay," he murmured in her ear while she whimpered into his chest, though the exact opposite was running through his mind. What if it isn't mine? I can't be a father… If anyone finds out I'll be fired…I can't marry her… Oh, shit.

After several minutes of holding each other in the snow out of view of the Three Broomsticks, they stood up and began walking back to the school, acting as if they had a normal teacher-student relationship until they got off the streets of the town.

"Don't worry about it, Draco. Michael will take care of me."

"Michael? You barely even see him."

"I know, but if anybody finds out about us…"

"That baby needs to grow up knowing who its father is."

"The father is Michael."

"Fuck Michael! You know it's mine."

"No!"

"Emma, I want to help you."

"You've helped enough. You put me in this situation!"

"Oh, come on. It's not like I raped you."

"Draco, it's over. I've got it all worked out and I can't see you anymore. Michael has agreed to take responsibility and no one will ever find out about this."

"Fine. If it's going to be like that then go ahead. Forget about me. I can't believe I thought I loved you."

"What do you mean 'thought'?"

"I mean, now I realize that you were another fling, just like Ginny."

"Who is Ginny?"

"It doesn't matter." His focus went from Emma to Ginny and everything about her and how perfect he thought their relationship was back then. But she decided to fight in the war, and when it was all over she left him as soon as her precious Potter wanted her back. He thought he would never be the same.

"Ginny, where are you going?" he asked, sitting up in bed with a confused look. She was walking around in her underwear looking for clothes as if she was in a hurry to get somewhere.

"I have to go help them."

"What are you talking about? What about me?" he asked, semi-shocked at what he thought she just denounced.

"I'm sorry, Draco, it's something I have to do. Those are my friends out there on the battle field and I'm back here doing nothing." She pulled some jeans over her hips and a sweater over her head.

"What do you mean 'doing nothing'? You're with me." He couldn't tell if she was serious or not.

"I can't just stay here and have sex all day when my family is dying." Okay, she was serious.

"Who died?" She ignored his question and continued rummaging through the drawers in her dresser for some gloves and a hat.

"What if you die?"

"I'm not going to die. Just remember that I love you," she insisted, and then gave him a peck on the lips.

She just picked up and left him without a clue. He found out later that day that one of her brothers, Charlie Weasley, had been badly injured and they were not sure if he would survive.

Of course, he could sympathize with her since both of his parents were dead, but somehow he hated her for leaving him. And when Potter came back in the picture he could have killed himself.

"I'm sorry, Draco." Emma gave him one last fiery kiss and they walked the final steps in silence.

As they approached the school, she rushed in before he could think to go after her.

Moments passed as he sat on the stone steps of the entrance and let the cold breeze nip at his pale nose and cheeks. His mind traced over the memories he had with Ginny and at the same time he was stunned at what happened with Emma.

Back in the Slytherin common room, Emma stretched out on the overstuffed leather couch that was her favorite. It was late, and she had almost gotten caught past curfew as she was coming back into the school.

Her best friend, Alexi, was still awake doing her homework when she came in. Alexi knew about Emma's pregnancy, but the girls agreed not to talk about it now.

"How's your mum?" she asked quietly, her fingers still scribbling away at an essay, looking over the rim of her glasses.

"She's fine, I guess. Didn't take the news too well, though."

"Sorry to hear that," she stated before she set her quill down on the table and sighed in relief.

"That's not due for two weeks."

"I know."

"So why are you doing it now?"

"I will be visiting my brother for a week and I talked to Professor Malfoy about turning it in beforehand."

"Why are you visiting your brother?"

"He's getting married and I am going to get to see my older sister and her husband's baby."

"Oh," muttered Emma, thwarted by the word baby.

"I'm going to bed. I'm meeting Anthony for breakfast in the morning and then we are going to hang out before he has Quidditch practice."

"I can't believe you are dating a Gryffindor," she divulged, wrinkling her nose at the thought.

"Me neither, but he is just so hot."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"You dated a Hufflepuff."

"Yeah, but they are not our enemies."

"That was five years ago," she said, rolling her eyes while stacking her books on top of each other. "Anyways, g'night."

"See you tomorrow, maybe."

And within minutes she felt herself drift away gazing into the vanishing fire, thinking about Draco.

"You wanted to see me again, Professor?"

"Yes, Draco. I take it Miss Dobbs returned safely to her common room."

"Of course."

"Very well. Would you say that if Miss Dobbs were to take your Advanced Potions NEWTs in, say, a month, she would get recognizable score?"

"I think that she is a very bright student and she would do well if she took them now, in my opinion. Why do you ask?"

"Miss Dobbs might be leaving before the term is over. Now, if she wants to tell you her situation I will let her, but as for her NEWTs, if you could take her through the remaining essential potions before then."

"Are you suggesting that I giver her individual tutoring to get her through the rest of the curriculum faster?"

"Yes, Professor. Is that a problem?"

"Umm, can I get back to you on that?"

"I suppose, but I will need to let her know as soon as possible."

"All right, then."

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. You can go. Oh, yes, I am going to need to see the grade reports for the sixth and seventh years in your class that play Quidditch by Wednesday."

"I will get those together for you. Have a good night, Professor." And he left her office.

Down in his living quarters, he paced barefoot on the carpet, clothed in only his pajama bottoms, and played with an old dagger that had belonged to his father. He couldn't get over the fact that Emma could so easily dismiss their relationship. She was just like Ginny. He didn't want to give her up, but if Michael was willing to take her back, so be it.

An hour later, he tossed and turned in his bed, unable to sleep. Lifting himself from the sheets he moseyed to the bathroom and ran a steamy shower. In his medicine cabinet was a plethora of self-concocted potions for various conditions. He grabbed for the bottle with the least amount of liquid in it: a sleeping dreamless potion.

After a quick swig of that he jumped in the shower to rinse away his feelings. He felt everything melt off of him; all of his worries and bad memories, and things that felt like grime on his heart.

Feeling pounds lighter, he inched back into his bed and into a cavernous sleep void of any thoughts whatsoever.