Hermione couldn't sleep. She was exhausted and even her bones were aching from tiredness, but she couldn't sleep.
She and Harry had talked until it had become so late that the House Elves had brought their tea to Hermione's room, presumably ordered to by Albus. Harry had finally seemed to be adjusting to the fact that Hermione had slept with Severus, on the surface at least. But neither of them were any closer to finding a solution to Hermione's future. Hermione steadfastly refused to use any of the money Severus left for her, which Harry thought was ridiculous. And without it, Hermione couldn't support herself and the baby.
She had told Harry about being able to apprentice McGonagall, but had pointed out that that wouldn't be for a long while yet, and she still had to survive until then. Besides, she'd also have to pay for a full time nanny when she finally did work. She could hardly bring her baby to class. "Now class, let's see what you can transfigure my baby into this week." No, it really wouldn't work.
Harry had asked about the money her parents had left her and Hermione had thought fast and told Harry there wasn't anything, hating lying to him but not wanting to explain all that as well. Besides, she had promised Albus she wouldn't tell anyone about her parents still being alive, even Harry and Ron. Hermione knew her parents would have helped if they could, but as they couldn't work at the moment, they needed every penny for themselves.
She couldn't get benefits in the Muggle world, because as Severus had pointed out, that was like going up to Voldemort and saying, "Here I am! Come and murder me in my sleep in a hideous and painful way."
Harry had even gone and found an up-to-date book on benefits in the Wizarding world, but they had very quickly found that Wizarding law was still very much in the Middle Ages. Witches weren't entitled to anything unless they were married. And then it was the husband who was paid the money, not the wife.
"I could work and support us both," Harry had suggested. "I could send you the money to live on."
Except Hermione hated that idea even more than she hated the idea of taking Severus' money. Besides, Harry wanted to train as an Auror and wouldn't be making any money then either. She wasn't going to live on the money Harry's parents had left him.
Severus. Through all this, Hermione had tried not to think about Severus. He was probably dead already. Or being tortured to death right now. She wondered if he'd even managed to set foot in the circle before he had been hit with some horrible curse.
She felt a surge of anger as she thought of how he could have saved himself and stayed with her and their baby. He'd felt he had nothing to live for, even thought Hermione was standing there trying desperately to make him realise that, if nothing else, he had her and their child to live for.
Except it hadn't been enough.
She turned over in her bed again, fighting down the queasy feeling in her stomach. She was hungry, which meant she felt sick again. It would have been okay, but with Severus and her uncertain future on her mind so much, she hadn't really felt up to eating, which just made everything worse.
"Accio Ginger Biscuits," she said, sticking her hand out from under her thick, warm covers to catch the flying packet of biscuits.
She nibbled on the end of one, wondering if Harry was awake to talk to. After the initial shock, he had been wonderful; really supportive and caring. Part of Hermione wished it had been Harry she had fallen for, instead of the surly Potions Master who seemed too damaged to ever really let himself love anyone.
Except Harry was… Harry. She just couldn't imagine going there. Ever. He was sweet and kind and even kind of handsome. But he was too… Harry-ish.
And Severus was… God, how could she describe why she had fallen for him? Harry had asked her repeatedly and she'd never been able to come up with an answer. He was so strong, yet at the same time he was so broken; he was brutal, yet gentle all at the same time; he didn't need anybody, yet underneath it all he desperately needed someone to love him and be there for him.
She closed her eyes and wished that her pregnancy would allow her to take some of the Dreamless Sleep draught she kept in the bathroom cabinet for dire emergencies. Severus kept haunting her thoughts day and night and she needed something to switch off her mind, if only for a few hours.
And he'll never know that I really did love him, Hermione thought, turning over yet again. If he'd have stayed, I could have convinced him. It might have taken thirty or forty years, but hey, if we were both castle-bound until Voldemort finally realized he wasn't actually immortal, it would have given me something to do.
She fell asleep with tears drying on her face, as she tried to stop the aching in her chest, which told her she'd never see Severus ever again.
The next morning, Harry was waiting at her door when she opened it, clutching her bag in one hand and a cream cracker in the other. He took her bag and walked down to breakfast with her without speaking, seeming deep in thought. The silence gave Hermione time to collect herself on the way to the Great Hall, and she was very grateful for Harry's presence. No one knew about either Severus' disappearance yet, or her baby, but somehow she felt so exposed.
Breakfast was an unusually silent affair. Harry was being quiet, and Ron was too busy glaring daggers at Harry to even really enjoy the bacon and sausages he was shoveling down. Just watching all that food being eaten so quickly made Hermione queasy.
"You okay?" Ginny asked, Hermione as they were about to leave for their respective classes. "You look really pale."
"Fine Gin, really," Hermione answered. "You were really quiet at breakfast. Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Ginny said, leaning in close to Hermione as they both got to their feet. "Just that Harry's being really weird with me."
"Weird?" Hermione asked, puzzled. He had been quiet, but sometimes he got like that. Usually just before he informed them all that his scar had been hurting him, actually. Hermione felt vaguely worried and eyed his scar suspiciously.
"Yeah," Ginny said again. "We usually meet on a morning to… well, you know, before breakfast."
"You know…?" Hermione asked; then realization dawned.
Well done Harry, she thought. You really kept that one a secret."Except this morning he arrived at the Room of Requirement as usual, and said that he couldn't meet me anymore."
God, this was all her fault, Hermione realized with a mental groan. This was all she needed.
"No explanation, no nothing," Ginny continued. "And now he seems too preoccupied to even look at me."
"Well it's the end of his seventh year," Hermione pointed out. "He's pretty sure Voldemort will start the war this summer and that must be pretty hard to take, knowing the whole world is going to be counting on you to save them, or else die trying."
"I know that," Ginny said, stopping in the hallway, as both she and Hermione had lessons at different sides of the castle. "But we've always talked about that. And he's always said that I'm a welcome distraction."
"Come up to my room later," Hermione said, wondering where Harry had got to with her bag, which he was still insisting on carrying. "We can watch some girly films, eat some ice-cream and veg out."
She spotted Harry coming out of the dining room, both their bags slung over his shoulder.
Honestly, could he be any more obvious? Hermione thought in despair. Either people are going to figure out that I'm pregnant, or they're going to think I'm going out with Harry. Either way, it wouldn't be good.
xxx
Hermione was right – after three days of Harry carrying her bag everywhere for her, including to classes he himself didn't have, which made him late for his own classes, people started to talk. Luckily they picked the least harmful rumour, but it still didn't stop Ron from glowering at them and refusing to practice Quidditch with Harry.
Instead, Ron had started spending more and more time with Neville, which Neville was a little baffled by, and Hannah Abbott was a little put out by. She and Neville had been together for nearly a year and now they seemed to constantly have an angry red-head in their company whenever they wanted to make out. As Hannah had confessed to Hermione after a few days, it was a little off-putting having Ron storming around the room, while they tried to be romantic.
It had taken at least two days for Ginny to hear the rumour about Harry and Hermione and another two days for her to confront Hermione about it. Hermione had reacted to Ginny's questioning guiltily purely because she knew that Harry was spending time with her in favour of Ginny, so technically this was all Hermione's own fault.
She had assured Ginny repeatedly that there was nothing between Harry and herself and had even gone so far as to talk to Harry about it, assuring him that he didn't need to give people up to be there for her.
Harry had just pulled her into a hug and told her to shut up, his tone affectionate.
Draco Malfoy was the only one who hadn't commented on the rumoured relationship, which was making Harry hugely suspicious. Whenever the subject was brought up by any of the other Slytherins, Draco just glowered and started talking about something else. Hermione wondered when he was ever going to make some sort of a move. She was tired of being on edge. Actually, she was tired full stop. She couldn't sleep for thinking about Severus and the nausea was getting steadily worse.
Things finally came to a head two weeks after Severus had left Hogwarts. Hermione was in her second favourite class, Defence Against the Dark Arts. Remus Lupin was teaching again thanks to Albus' contacts, which seemed to be everywhere and have remarkable influence. Hermione had a definite soft spot for the kind and gentle Werewolf.
Defence Against the Dark Arts was the only NEWT level class that had every single class member in it, despite the fact that quite a few people were aware that Remus was a Werewolf and their parents objected strongly to them being in that class. People were there to learn how to protect themselves, which was relevant whatever side they planned to fight on.
Remus had waited until the end of the class to give each person their own special assignments, which had cheered Hermione up no end, before she heard what her assignment was to be about.
"But Professor Lupin," Hermione had objected, forgetting to put her hand up. "There are no books in the library on the Pogrebin – I checked at the beginning of the year when I realized we'd be covering them. How am I to get the information I need for my assignment?"
Remus was about to inform Hermione that he, himself had a very good book she was welcome to borrow, when Draco's hand shot up.
"I've got a book Granger could use," he said, his voice sounding nervous. "I won't need it for a couple of weeks."
His cheeks seemed to colour as his fellow Slytherins stared at him in shock. A couple of Gryffindors actually turned in their seats to stare at Draco, their mouths open.
"Erm… alright Malfoy," Lupin said, his voice holding an element of amusement, but mostly bemusement. "That's very generous of you."
"Bet when she opens it, the book has giant teeth and tries to eat her," Ron commented to Neville in an undertone.
Draco glowered at his desk and steadfastly ignored the looks his classmates were giving him. He kept his head down for the remainder of the class and when the bell rang to signal the end, he packed his bag deliberately slowly and gestured to his friends that he'd be alone in a minute. He really didn't need an audience to witness him being nice to Granger.
Hermione watched Draco packing his bag as slowly as he possibly could and she followed suit, telling Harry to go on without her, but being very glad when he told her he'd be waiting outside in the corridor. She was also relieved that Remus stayed and sat at his desk, pretending to grade assignments. She knew he was staying just to make sure she would be okay.
"I will meet you in the library at seven, if you want that book, Granger," Draco said, unsure of what to say, wincing at the mention of the library. Last time he'd been there with her, he'd cursed her while his father had killed her parents. He hadn't known what his father was going to do, but that stop the guilt stabbing through him. And thanks to Snape's little talk, he had been feeling guilty about it for weeks.
Except I have to do this, Draco thought, grimly.
"Right. That's really… nice of you," Hermione said, having no idea how to respond to a nice Draco Malfoy. She actually felt more at ease with the snide, nasty version.
"Thought it was about time we buried the hatchet and all that," Draco said, awkwardly.
Yes, bury it deep in my back, Hermione's inner voice said, with a bizarre inappropriate inner giggle.
"You sure you're feeling okay, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, reaching to put a joking hand on his forehead to test his temperature.
Draco leapt back, knocking a chair over as he did so. Remus looked up, his wand already in his hand, but when he saw that Hermione was completely fine, standing staring at Draco with a baffled expression on her face, he pretended to go back to marking assignments.
"Can't stand to have a Mudblood touch you, Malfoy?" Hermione said, not able to keep the disgust out of her voice.
Draco shook his head and then eyed Remus warily. He hated having an audience for anything, especially one who was so ready to leap up and Hex him if Hermione so much as broke a nail slapping him.
"I don't…" he began. "People don't touch me very often."
He looked at his feet, not sure why he'd confessed that. He was supposed to pretend to like her and talk to her, and definitely not confess ridiculous things like that.
"Forget it," Draco said, grabbing his bag. "I'll bring the book to class tomorrow."
"I'd like to read it tonight, if you still wouldn't mind meeting in the library?" Hermione asked, her voice gentle. She looked at Draco's closed expression and it suddenly hit her how like Severus Draco was. They were both forced into how they behaved by the people around them and both had no real idea who they really were. For the first time since all this had began, she started to feel a little more hopeful. Maybe she could really do this…
"I don't need your pity, Granger," Draco spat at her, his good intentions forgotten in the humiliation of having revealed something like that about himself, to a Mudblood, no less.
"Malfoy, whatever else I think about you, I certainly don't pity you." Hermione flashed Draco a derisive smile and went to pick up her bag. "See you at seven."
She strode out of the classroom, winking at Remus on her way out and smiling when he surreptitiously winked back. Harry caught hold of her arm as she came out of the classroom and immediately took her bag from her.
"Harry, you have to stop carrying my bloody bag," Hermione said, trying to take it back and glowering when Harry hoisted it onto his shoulder, ignoring her attempts to grab it from him.
"Accio bag!" Hermione said through gritted teeth. The bag pulled futilely on Harry's shoulder, but eventually gave up and Harry relaxed his grip again.
"I'm not an invalid, you know," she said, her hands on her hips.
"That's good to know," Harry said, cheerily. "Cos you're coming to Hogsmede with me tomorrow evening."
"I am?"
"You are," Harry confirmed. "You need cheering up."
"And do I have any say in this at all?" Hermione asked.
"Nope," Harry said with a smile as they found their seats in the Potions classroom and waited for Albus to start the class. He was good, very thorough and much, much kinder than Severus had been, but Severus had added passion to the lessons that Albus just couldn't didn't manage.
Hermione sighed and tried not to let herself fall into a depression again. She smiled a wavering smile at Albus and was twinkled at in return. Severus loved making Potions and Hermione knew that given the right students, who were diligent, eager to learn and as passionate as he was, he would excel in teaching. She thought briefly that he could have taught Potions at University standard, if he hadn't have gone and practically committed suicide. University students who chose something like Potions to take a degree in were usually the sort of people Severus would have loved to teach. They would want to learn.
Hermione was startled from her thoughts by a whisper in her ear. She turned and saw Draco leaning forwards towards her.
"Granger, you've forgotten the ground beetle eggs," he whispered again, realising she hadn't heard the first time. "If you add that first, the sodding cauldron will blow up."
Hermione looked at the bottle in her hand that Draco had gestured to.
Gnats milk. Bugger, he was right.
"Thanks, Malfoy," Hermione said, grudgingly. She knew that if she had tipped her hand just a few centimeters more, the entire contents of her cauldron would be splattered around the classroom. It annoyed her that Draco Malfoy of all people would have to be the one to save her from the humiliation of making such a ridiculous mistake.
"Something on your mind? Busy planning your marriage to Potter?" he asked her in a low voice with a flicker of a mocking smile, still leaning forward.
Finally, Hermione thought. If he didn't comment on that soon, I would have had to assumed he'd had some sort of frontal lobotomy or something.
Hermione had to give it to him, he was quite good at being nice when he wanted to be. Or it might just have been how drastic the change was – he could have been sitting there throwing dung beetles at her and it would still have been better than the usual level of hatred he fired at her.
"Was wondering how I'm going to pass my Potions NEWT with Professor Snape gone," Hermione replied, talking quietly. Albus let them talk while they worked, but she still didn't want Harry to hear her being friendly to Draco.
He'd probably faint from the shock, she decided.
"I can get some extra tuition at home," Draco said, a sly smile on his face that Hermione instantly disliked. Then his eyes widened in quick realization and he instantly looked guilty. Hermione realized he was very possibly remembering that even if she could have got extra tuition at home, she wouldn't be returning home, thanks to him.
He mumbled something and disappeared into the storeroom to get the rest of the ingredients for the potion. Hermione turned back to her work and was met by an accusing stare.
"What?" Hermione asked Harry, her voice defensive before he'd even spoken.
"Your sudden attraction to all things Slytherin is a little worrying, Hermione," Harry said quietly so no one but Hermione could hear him.
"Attracted to Malfoy?!" Hermione hissed incredulously. "I think the fumes must be getting to you."
"Well you have to admit that it's pretty strange," Harry said, eyeing the scalpel gripped in her right hand warily. "First Snape, now Malfoy…"
"I had one civil conversation with Malfoy, and you're suddenly hearing wedding bells!" Hermione muttered, going back to chopping. The very idea that she could fancy Draco was laughable, and almost insulting, but then Harry had no idea what Draco had put her through over these last few weeks.
xxx
Hermione arrived at the library an hour early to meet Draco. She smiled at Luna, who was sitting at a desk, looking out of the window with a dreamy expression on her face, her books unopened in front of her. Then she made her way into the restricted section of the library and started searching.
An hour later, she still hadn't found what she had been looking for. She had finally gotten around to trying to find the Añanki tribe's protection charms, as Severus had suggested. Except there was absolutely nothing about them in either the restricted section, or the general section. She even went as far as asking Madame Pince for help, but even she couldn't help, and seemed to blame Hermione for it.
Hermione was tired, depressed and deeply nauseous by the time Draco walked into the library, his head down for once. Hermione presumed he had snuck away from his 'friends' as he hadn't wanted them knowing he was coming to meet her.
"Hey," Hermione said, gently. Well, she had to start somewhere and 'sod off Malfoy' probably wouldn't get her the book, apart from anything else.
"Hey," Draco echoed, seeming to cringe as he looked at her. "Here's the book."
He handed her a large, old book, with gold lettering in the cover. She ran her fingers over the leather cover, smiling at the silken feel of it. God, she loved books. She loved their smell and their feel, and most of all she loved the information they contained. They said knowledge was power, and she couldn't soak enough up.
"You're a strange one, Granger," Draco said, looking at her with an indeterminable look on his face.
"Always have been," Hermione said, nodding. "So are you."
Draco frowned at her for a second and then pulled up a chair and sat heavily on it.
"Less of the cheek, if you please," Draco said, leaning back in his chair and trying to look like he was completely comfortable having a conversation with one of his enemies in the middle of a darkened library.
To Draco's intense discomfort, Hermione broke into fits of giggles. Draco looked around to see if anyone had heard her and would come to see what the hell was wrong with her.
"I'm sorry," Hermione gasped, mid giggle. "It's just that my Great Aunt Hester says that to me all the time. I got this image of you with a nice blue perm and Dame Edna glasses…"
She burst into giggles again and Draco stared at her, bemused and more than a little annoyed. No one usually dared to laugh at him. With him yes, because he'd curse them if they didn't, but never at him…
"Kind of Neville's Boggart," Hermione added, giggling again.
Draco's face broke into a reluctant grin at the memory of that image of Snape in that incredibly fetching hat…
Hermione sobered as she thought of Severus at the exact same time that Draco had. She turned back to the book Draco had brought her.
"This won't blow up or eat me if I open it, will it?" she asked, giving him a half joking smile.
"As tempting as it is, Granger…" Draco said, thinking that it would have been much easier if the book did just explode and kill both him and Granger. "I'm sure I could think of more inventive ways of killing you."
Yes, like handing me over to Voldemort, Hermione thought bitterly.
"Do you want to go for a drink tomorrow?" Hermione asked on impulse. "Harry is going, but…"
As her voice trailed off, Draco's platinum blonde eyebrows shot so far up that they nearly disappeared.
"You want me to go for a drink with… Potter?!" Draco's voice was incredulous. The idea of going for a drink with Granger where people could see him was ridiculous enough, but… Potter?!
"It was only a suggestion," Hermione said, shrugging. "If you're afraid he can out-drink you, or something..."
"I'm a Slytherin," Draco pointed out, looking disgusted with her. "You're going to have to do better than that, if you're going to try to play mind games with me."
"How about you, Harry and Ginny all come up to my room and watch some films and get nicely slaughtered?"
"Slaughtered?" Draco echoed with an almost calculating grin.
"You know what way I meant it," Hermione said, giving him a warning glare. "Stop thinking about slaughtering Harry."
Draco actually found himself feeling reluctantly amused, but refused to show it.
It's the idea of slaughtering Potter that's cheering me up, Malfoy decided.
"I don't know, Granger," Draco said, thinking that it would be the worst night of his entire life, spent watching Muggle television with three Gryffindors. In fact, he couldn't think of anything worse, other than maybe having to have sex with Millicent Bulstrode. Except he had to win her over somehow, and he was quite pleased with his progress so far.
"Me, Potter, Alcohol…" Draco said, smirking. "Who knows how many limbs he'd have left at the end of the night."
"And I thought you were just worried the alcohol would lower your inhibitions and you wouldn't be able to keep your hands off him," Hermione said with a smile.
Draco stared at Hermione with his mouth open.
"Make it the day after tomorrow," Hermione said, gathering her things. "Will meet you outside the Fat Lady at seven thirty."
As she walked away, she wondered how long Draco would be standing in the library with his mouth open, completely outraged about her 'gay' comment.
Well, what does he expect with those clothes, that hair and that walk…