The Similarities of Love and Hate
By Jinxd N Cursed
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profits
Chapter Ten
Alone
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It was the third week of October and the cool autumn air was getting to be a bit chilly. Hermione walked by the Lake during one of her afternoon free periods just before dinner, holding her thick cloak tightly around her shoulders, careful to conceal her entire body. That morning, she had run out of her potion, taking only the tiniest swallow that was left in the bottle. Alexander was visible when she was not covered in her cloak. Tucked under her arm, concealed in the cloak, was a maternity witch catalogue. She had just sent off an order for a few basics for when she wasn't walking about the castle. At the time, she could still get on most of her shirts but only two pairs of pants and three skirts still fit her.
She sighed, sitting down at the edge of the lake and pulling her knees to her chest. Harry and Ron loved her but never had time for her. Ginny, being in a lower year, took several more classes that she did. She couldn't go to Transfiguration, Snape made her stay away from Potions every other lesson, and the rest of her classes were independent study in the library. While the rest of the student body was in class, the library was practically empty and Hermione spent hours alone studying. Occasionally, on days she chose not to step out for meals, she went the whole day without uttering a syllable to another soul. It was a lonely existence, being the pregnant teenager and mudblood "genius." If she had really been a genius, she would have thought of something to curb her intense loneliness.
"Granger, what are you doing out here alone?" a bored, exasperated voice asked her.
She turned and saw Malfoy walking behind her. His hair was mussed, his shirt was not tucked, and his tie was loose.
"It's none of your business," she told him. "What are you doing out here? Have you been off with Pansy in the woods?"
"As a matter of fact yes," he replied, bored. "She's not as good as she once was though."
"I neither care nor desire to know that information," she said.
He sat down beside her. "Now if I told you why I'm out here, you owe me the same."
She scooted away from him. "I owe you nothing. You offered the information."
"Whatever Granger," he said. "You're showing."
"Really Malfoy? I never would have known if you hadn't told me. I guess being a muggleborn affects my eyesight," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Touchy," he said. "Granger, are you ever going to realize I care less about your lineage and more about the fact that you're smarter than me?"
"I'm sorry," she said. "Did you just say I'm smarter than you?"
"Don't make me repeat it," he warned. "I do believe you heard me. Your parents certainly had no effect on your hearing either."
"Why Malfoy, I'm shocked. An unexpected compliment from one who loathes me," she said.
"Don't get used to it, Granger," he snapped.
"I wouldn't dream of it," she replied. "I know perfectly well that as soon as your little guilt trip is over, it will be back to 'mudblood bitch.'"
He sent a harsh look her way. "No."
She shrugged her shoulders and looked out over the water.
"So tell me, Granger, why exactly are you showing?" he asked. "Do you want the whole school to know?"
"I'm out of my potion," she explained. "I have to brew more tonight."
"You're going to get caught one of these days," he informed her.
"No I won't. I'm careful," was her reply. Unfortunately, she was soon proven wrong.
Hermione tiptoed out of the common room at midnight, making her way down the stone corridor cautiously, watching for patrolling teachers and Mrs. Norris. Without being seen, she made her way to the Room of Requirement, finding the same lab she had seen before, with the process for her potion written on the chalkboard. The silver cauldron already had a low flame burning beneath it.
With the glow of the warm torchlight, Hermione measured out 256 mL of water, pouring it into the cauldron so simmer. She adored potions for its precision and delicacy. Carefully, she sliced vines, crushed an opal into a thousand fiery fragments, ground dried mint leaves to a fine powder, and chopped the sprouts of the Bulgarian creeper vine. It was methodical and relaxing. Aside from the precise measurements and specific ways each ingredient had to be prepared, the potion Hermione made was simple and left her time for thought as it simmered.
She had no idea what she was going to do when the baby was actually born. Most of her knowledge came from books and there was no book entitled "Parenting: A teenage rape-victim who is carrying a Deatheater's illegitimate child's guide to being a single parent and raising a child to be a fine, upstanding member of Wizarding society while continuing your education and finding a good job." Or at least if such a book existed, it was not in the Hogwarts library or Flourish and Blotts. Hermione was on her own to figure out everything. While her parents would offer all the help they could, they knew very little about raising children in the wizarding world—something completely different from raising muggle children.
Panic gripped her suddenly. She would barely stand to be pregnant alone. How in the world would she handle everything when Alexander was born? Where would she get the things she needed? Who would baby-sit for her when she went to class? Who would be the man in his life? How would she deal with the stares and comments from her peers?
A ringing noise startled her from her fears, as she realized it was time to bottle her potion. Next to the cauldron, a tall purple crystal bottle appeared and Hermione began ladling the potion into the bottle. When the cauldron was empty and the bottle full of the blue liquid, Hermione set out cautiously from the room. The bottle of potion was held firmly in her hand, the stopper held extra tight with her thumb. When she was almost to her room she heard a noise.
"Mrow."
She turned and her stomach plummeted. Mrs. Norris. That meant…
"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Filch said. "Head girl out of bed, past time for her rounds."
"I needed to get a glass of milk from the kitchen," she lied.
"You've never been good at lying Miss Granger," he said. "Now, what is that in your hand, aye? Let's see it then."
"No!" she exclaimed.
"Brewing illicit mixtures?" he inquired, his beady eyes fixed upon the bottle in her hand. He lunged. Hermione jerked back. As she lost her balance and fell, the bottle slipped from her hand. As if in slow motion, the bottle flew through the air and hit the cold, hard stone, shattering. The blue potion seeped in between the cracks of the stones.
"No!" Hermione cried. "No!"
"Something important, you couldn't get from the nurse?" Filch asked.
"Yes you dimwitted squib!" she started to sob.
"Detention," he said nastily. "Tomorrow night in the hospital wing. Bedpans. Now get back to bed."
As Filch left, Hermione continued to cry. It was over. There was no time or way for her to brew more of the potion. She had to go to class and even if she skipped, Filch would surely watch for her, wanting to catch her in the act again. Resignedly, she faced the facts. In a few short hours, the whole school would know that she was pregnant.
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And so ends another chapter… Sorry it took a little longer this time. I'm a busy girl. As always, reviews are luffed.
