The Similarities of Love and Hate
By Jinxd N Cursed
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profits
Chapter Eleven
Friends?
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"Granger, are you going to breakfast like that?"
Hermione turned and saw Malfoy standing in the doorway to his bedroom. She glanced over her outfit. She wore a longer sleeved red maternity top with grey pants. Over it, she had thrown on her black school robes. She looked fine but she looked pregnant.
"Yes, I am," she said. "Not that it matters to you."
"I thought you said you were brewing more potion last night," he said.
"Filch caught me," she answered.
"I'll resist the urge to say I told you so," he said.
"Thank you," she replied, gathering her things for her first class.
"So you're just going to go out like that?" he questioned
"What choice do I have?" she said.
"You could skip class," Malfoy reminded her.
"To do what? I can't go back to the Room of Requirement because Filch will be looking for me," she pointed out.
He shrugged. "I guess you're right. As always."
"It's not about being right," she said. "It's about how I'm about to be stared at by 800 other students, all of whom are going to ask themselves how the little mudblood got herself knocked up and that damn Blaise Zabini will probably realize it's his."
"You're the one who is insisting you go to class," he pointed out.
"I don't have a choice," she reminded him.
"Then do it. Stop whining to me about how you're going to be humiliated. I'm not the most sympathetic ear. If you want comfort, seek out Potty and Weasel. Otherwise, just do it, Granger, and stop complaining. You're giving me a headache."
"I guess you're right," she told him. With that, she gathered her books and marched bravely to see the world.
She entered the Great Hall with her bag over one shoulder. Her robes were open and as people turned their heads and saw her, shocked looks crossed their faces. A red burn spread slowly over her face as she made her way to the Gryffindor table. The whispers coming from all the students—and even a few teachers who hadn't heard the news—sounded deafening to her ears. She could feel their stares boring down on her waistline.
Her pace quickened as she practically dove for a seat at the Gryffindor table where they would no longer see her rounded abdomen. Even as she sat, her face still burned with embarrassment. She could hear the whispers.
"Is she pregnant?"
"I wonder who the father is?"
"Who would sleep with that?"
"Isn't she smart enough to use birth control?"
"Why doesn't she get rid of it?"
"I bet she's carrying Harry Potter's love child!"
"Is she going to be expelled?"
"Who would think that Hermione Granger of all people would wind up knocked up."
"Ha! Stupid mudblood bitch is with child!"
Discretion was not something the bulk of Hogwarts' student population possessed. They stared openly and to her dismay, two of her year-mates, infamous gossips Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, dashed up to her.
"Omigod!" Parvati said. "Are you pregnant?"
"Who's the father?" Lavender questioned.
"Does he know?" Parvati added.
"Are you going tell him?"
"Do you think he'll support the child?"
"Girl or boy?"
"Have you picked a name?"
"When are you due?"
"But Oh my God!" they exclaimed at the same time. "How did this happen?"
Hermione suddenly did not feel hungry in the least. Not giving the two girls a second glance, she picked up her bag and walked swiftly from the Great Hall, down toward the dungeons.
Upon reaching the Potion's classroom twenty minutes early, she leaned against the wall and allowed herself to slide down until her butt reached the floor. With her knees pulled to her chest, she covered her face with her hands, her mind swimming. She wasn't entirely sure how long she sat there but eventually, she heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Clumsily, she hauled herself to her feet and gathered her things as a pack of sixth-year Slytherin boys rounded the corner, Malfoy and Zabini leading the pack.
"Well, well. If it isn't the buck-toothed mudblood," Blaise said. "Tell me Granger, how does it feel? You're carrying an illegitimate child, ready to be born waving its hand to respond to every single question. Who's the little mudblood's daddy, huh? Some muggle, I bet. What respectable wizard would touch you?"
Hermione looked away, trying to ignore him despite the hurt. She was sure he knew it was his.
"What, are you too stupid to understand what I'm saying? Should I use smaller words? Why don't you look it up in one of your damn books?"
Malfoy's hands clenched and unclenched, his knuckles growing white.
"Filthy little mudblood whore."
A succession of very strange things occurred right at that moment. First, Draco Malfoy's fist connected with Blaise Zabini's nose. Aforementioned nose gave a sickening crunch and began spurting blood. The owner of the nose let out a horrible, blood curdling scream, reaching up to staunch the flow of blood. Just as the nose crunched, the door to the Potion's lab swung open and Severus Snape uttered the words, "Fifty points from Slytherin and a detention for Mr. Malfoy." As far as anyone could tell, those words had never come from the lips of Professor Severus Snape during his entire sixteen-year tenure. Perhaps it had been the shock of the Slytherin golden boy hitting his best friend that drove the Professor over the edge. Mr. Zabini was ushered to the Nurse's office where his nose was presently healed and the stains of blood were removed from his skin and clothing. Professor Snape allowed the students into the classroom and remained in a thunderous mood for the entire lesson. His grin was positively evil when he handed the detention slip to Malfoy.
Much later that evening, Malfoy returned from his detention with Professor Snape, muttering something about pickled toads and dissection. Hermione was seated on the coach doing her homework.
"Have a nice detention?" she asked.
He snorted.
"I sort of feel bad," she said.
"What for, Granger?" he asked, extremely grumpy after his awful punishment.
"You sort of got it for defending my honor and well, thanks," she said.
"You're welcome," he said testily.
"Malfoy?" she prodded
"What, Granger?"
"Are we… friends?" she questioned.
He pondered it for a moment. "Yeah. I guess we sort of are."
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It's not the longest chapter on record but it accomplished what I needed it to. Thoughts?
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I worked really hard
So please do review!
