Hermione was exhausted. It had been four and a half weeks since the incident in the Malfoy dungeons; five Death Eaters had been captured, and faced with the prospect of enduring the Dementor's Kiss, one had broken down and led the Aurors to the houses of three others in a desperate attempt to save himself from that fate. The trials were yet to be held, as evidence was still being collected against them all.
Draco had been acting strangely over the past few weeks. Well, more strangely than usual, Hermione amended. He hadn't been hanging around with his usual gang in Slytherin, but he also hadn't been anywhere near any of them. From what she'd heard on the Hogwarts grapevine, he'd been hibernating in his room, only leaving for food and lessons. Harry had tried to approach him once and had got such a mouthful that even he had backed off and decided to stay away from him.
Dumbledore had come back from the infirmary after only a day or two under Madam Pomfrey's care. Hermione had visited the Headmaster and had been told that Death Eater had managed to take Albus unawares and had pulled a knife on him. It scared Hermione that something so Muggle could hurt someone as powerful as Albus Dumbledore. Luckily his wounds had been superficial and easy for the experienced Mediwitch to heal, and Poppy had been very pleased to be rid of him, after refusing the 100th Lemon drop he had offered with a glower and a shake of her head.
Albus had gathered together everyone who had been present in the dungeons that day. He had informed everyone that no one would know of Draco's hand in the raid on Malfoy Manor – all the Death Eaters and even Draco's own father had had their memories altered. It seemed that Draco was now stuck with the position of 'spy' for Albus, as the Dark lord would still be wanting to recruit him, especially now as so many of his top Death Eaters had been taken from him.
Hermione wondered what Severus would say if he knew any of this. Actually, she did know – he would be furious that Draco was having to go through the same hell he'd had to endure, and would do anything he could to stop it. Except Severus couldn't do anything to stop it. The one and only time Hermione had managed to get into St Mungos, Severus had been lying in the hospital bed, bruised and broken, not even able to breathe on his own.
She had been allowed five minutes to sit with him, and her wand had been confiscated while she visited. It had taken her a few days of being turned away from the hospital to work out that Albus himself had been responsible for her not being allowed to visit. He had been sure Hermione would try to save Severus again, using the same spell as she had used before. His fears had been confirmed as the angry girl had strode around his office, glaring at him and insisting that she be allowed to at least try to revive him with a Mediwitch to ground her.
At his refusal, she had stormed out, slamming his door behind her and had refused to utter a word to him since. She even refused to speak to him when he addressed her directly, much to the amazement of Ron, who had been standing next to her one of the times Albus had tried to talk to her.
"Mione, did you hear Dumbledore speaking to you?" he had asked, his eyes wide. "Do you need your ears cleaned or something? Are you alright?"
Hermione had finally talked to Harry about what had really been happening over the past few months. She even talked to him about his proposal and luckily hadn't really had to do much explaining. He had seen how upset she was over Severus and it had finally managed to reach his mind that she really did care about the professor; enough to not want to marry Harry while there was still any chance of Severus waking up.
Not that the bloody man would marry me anyway, Hermione thought, turning over in bed. Even if he did wake up, any mention of marriage would probably send him straight back into St Mungo's mental ward, as he battled a gigantic nervous breakdown.
It was three in the morning, she was tired, she felt queasy and she couldn't switch her mind off enough to sleep. It was nearly the Christmas holidays and she wasn't sure what to do. Everyone except Harry still thought her parents were dead, so it was going to be difficult to go to wherever the hell they were to visit them. And even if she did go and see them, how would she managed to keep her pregnancy a secret from them?
She put her hand on her stomach. She was seventeen weeks pregnant now and had a different enough shape for people to notice if she hadn't been wearing either bulky clothes or robes all the time.
Thank God for winter clothes, Hermione thought. Her thick jumpers and transfigured trousers meant that she could still wear normal clothes on the weekend without people saying anything. Although she had heard Pavarti making some rude comments about her having eaten 'one too many Chocolate Frogs' not long ago.
She had read that her morning sickness should have gone about five weeks ago and had even double checked that fact with Poppy who had informed her that, yes it should have gone, but it doesn't always and every pregnancy is different. Nevermind, eh?
Hermione blamed her raging hormones for the incredibly strong urge she had to throttle the Mediwitch that day.
She was also constantly on the alert to see if she could feel her baby moving around in there, as she had also read that anytime now she could be feeling something a little like fluttering in her stomach. Except her stomach was growling and rumbling so much at the moment that it would have been very hard to work out what was baby and what was her undigested breakfast.
She pulled a face, waved the lights on and pulled the Muggle pregnancy book out from underneath her pillow. If she couldn't sleep, she may as well obsess over the baby instead. She had been doing that a lot lately and had blamed it on the fact that she couldn't share her pregnancy properly with anyone. Ginny would be ideal, if Hermione ever got up the courage to tell her.
'The second trimester is a happy time for most pregnant women,' she read. Pah. That's alright for you to say – you're not in the bloody second trimester of pregnancy.
She sat up and looked at her clock again, half expecting it to suddenly be half past seven already, so she would have to get up and get ready for breakfast.
Was that actually wishful thinking? God, life is getting bad.
Hermione looked up at the wall at the picture she still hadn't replaced in Severus' quarters. She had chosen the beach painting to hide the Aurors and all the other people who had hidden inside while Draco took them into his house. She hadn't stolen it exactly, just forgotten to put it back after they had finished using it. It was calming for her to watch the waves lapping against the shore and she was sure Severus wouldn't mind. Well, she was almost sure Severus wouldn't mind.
She kept her eyes fixed on the painting and tried to relax. As her eyes drifted shut she tried to imagine herself lying on the beach with the sun sinking into her skin, Severus lying beside her.
No, not lying beside me, she amended, kneeling over me, kneading and massaging my shoulders; touching me with those amazing hands of his.
She turned the lights off without opening her eyes and felt herself start to drift off.
xxx
Hermione awoke feeling disorientated. Her skin was prickling as if someone was watching her and her eyes flew open as she sat up in bed and looked around. Her wand grasped in her hand, she slipped her feet into her bunny slippers, ignoring the indignant squeaks, and slowly and carefully checked her rooms.
After checking every single inch of her room, she glowered at her slippers as if it were somehow their fault, kicked them off and climbed back into bed.
At least I'm exhausted enough to sleep, she thought, sinking back against her soft pillows.'beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep'
Hermione groaned and glared at her clock.
"Silencio!" she snarled, pointing her wand at it. "And if you don't, I'll blow you up instead."
God, I don't want to get up this morning.
"Mione! Are you up yet?"
The dulcet tones of Ronald Weasley on a Monday morning. Oh Joy.
Actually, Hermione was incredibly happy that Ron was talking to her again. Whatever Draco had said to him had somehow changed his perspective completely and he had almost gone back to how he had been before. Almost; there was still no hugging, or flirting, but Hermione had decided she could live without that side of their friendship quite easily.
"Bugger off!" she yelled at him through the door.
"I think she's up," Hermione heard Harry say.
"And you can bugger off too!" she yelled through the door at him.
"Caffeine withdrawal," Harry informed Ron. Hermione could almost hear the teasing grin that she knew would be on his face.
It took Hermione five minutes of charms to be ready for breakfast. It was too cold to shower, she decided. Too cold and too bloody early.
When she got to the bottom of the stairs, Harry, Ron and Ginny were waiting for her, all looking far too awake.
"Come on, Hermione," Harry said, taking her bag and slipping his arm through hers. "A cup of that disgustingly strong tea you drink and you'll be yourself in no time."
"Or less like something that crawled out from under Harry's bed at least," Ron added, tactlessly and received a glower in return.
"I look that bad?" Hermione asked Ginny as they walked down.
"You just look a bit tired," Ginny said, patting her shoulder soothingly.
"Oh great," she muttered, running her hands through her still quite tangled hair.
Well, maybe it did need a wash, she admitted. And she probably could have put some make up on to cover the darkness under her eyes. It's too late now anyway, she decided, filling her bowl with cereal and pouring the milk onto it.
She lifted her almost black cup of tea to her mouth and coughed, spattering Neville with it as she did.
"This isn't tea," Hermione said, glaring into her cup. It was no longer the dark brown colour she could have sworn it was a moment earlier. "But I poured it out a second ago and I swear it was tea then."
"Here, have mine," Ginny offered. "I've got to try to finish my transfiguration homework before class anyway."
Hermione smiled gratefully at her friend and lifted the cup to her mouth. As she sprayed Neville for the second time, he did his very best not to look annoyed as he wiped the milk from his robes.
"I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, vanishing the liquid with a flick of her wand. She peered into her cup and then showed it to Harry and Ron, who were looking at her like she was completely insane.
"You're sure you didn't pour yourself milk instead?" Harry asked, his face puzzled. "Why would someone want to pull a trick like that?"
"To stop me getting my bloody morning caffeine fix!" Hermione said with a suspicious glare towards the Slytherin table. "Someone really, really evil!"
Hermione looked at the staff table for the first time that morning and her eyes widened.
"Oh my God…"
She got slowly to her feet and walked towards the head table, her eyes wide and her expression dazed.
"Hermione!" she heard Harry hiss in her ear as he tried to pull her back by her shoulder. "People can see you! Don't do anything stupid."
Hermione shrugged him off. Her eyes met Severus' and she stumbled, somehow missing a step. Severus rose to his feet and bowed his head to Albus.
"Excuse me, Headmaster. I have something to attend to."
Albus nodded, sending Severus an understanding smile, which Severus missed completely as he hurried to stop Hermione before she did something ridiculous. He grabbed Hermione's arm, stopping her and spinning her around to face him.
"You were in my room," Hermione said, her voice dazed.
"Now is neither the time, or the place for this discussion, Miss Granger," Severus said, his voice low. "Come to the dungeons after tea and we will discuss whatever you like then."
"You're really alive?" Her hand lifted to touch his cheek, then snatched it back quickly, millimeters from his face, as if finally remembering where she was.
Oh God. If she touched him, it would be his undoing. He would pick her up and carry her out of the hall and find the nearest bed to ravage her on. As long as the bed didn't belong to Albus, Minerva or Filius, he didn't care. He shuddered slightly at the thought of taking Hermione over Albus' bed, with all the portraits the old Wizard had of friends and family cheering them on and giving him marks out of ten.
He was tempted to make some sort of sarcastic comment in response to Hermione's question, but the unsure expression on her face made him stop.
"I'm alive," he confirmed softly, painfully conscious of how many sets of ears were currently straining to hear what he and the Head Girl were saying.
He raised his voice loud enough for at least half the students in the hall to be able to hear him. "Miss Granger, as irritating as it will be supervising your detention on my first day back, it will be more than worth it to see you scrubbing cauldrons all night. Any more of your impertinence and I will find something decidedly worse for you to do. Do I make myself clear?"
"Very clear, sir," Hermione said, a smile lighting her face.
"It might help matters if you look a little less pleased about it," Severus hissed pointedly, before turning on his heel to stride out of the dining hall. "I am supposed to be terrifying."
Hermione bit her lip, fighting a laugh. He was back. He was alive. She nodded to him and went to sit back in her seat at the table. She picked up her cup again and looked at it suspiciously. Then she looked up and stared suspiciously at the retreating back of her Potions Professor.
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Hello again :o) Thank you for all my lovely reviews – I can't believe how many of you go to all the bother of leaving one. It really cheers my day up (and you never know, it might make me write just that leeeeetle bit faster ;o) )
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