A/N: With Pretty Little Secrets finished I can concentrate on this fic more. So everyone be happy! Yay!
Thanks for the reviews and the patience.
Chapter Four: Friday
It had been Tuesday when Harry and Hermione discovered the Boy-Who-Lived to be pregnant, and Madam Pomfrey was coming to visit on Friday. Harry was a ball of nerves. Hermione had made him promise to tell the medi-witch all about his situation when she came, or she would do it for him.
Does it always seem that times speeds up when you dread a certain day and slows down when you're excited? Harry wondered if Hermione had somehow gotten a hold of her old Time Turner when he awoke on Friday morning. The Gryffindor glared balefully at the clock by his bed. How could it be noon already? Who had let him sleep in?
To his horror, angry tears jumped to the wizard's eyes and he pushed them aside with a trembling hand. Here it was the day before he came of age and he was crying like a baby. He hadn't even thrown up yet. He should be smiling and laughing, not crying and sobbing!
"Harry? Are you alright?"
Hermione's voice startled Harry, halting his tears. Quickly wiping his eyes, Harry cleared his throat before responding.
"I'm fine. Just getting dressed. I'll be out in a minute.
Harry could practically see Hermione standing outside the door, her mouth opened to reply, but, thankfully, the normally nosy girl took his word for it and left.
He let out a forceful sigh and rubbed a calloused hand over his face tiredly. He might as well get up and get dressed. Staying in bed wouldn't stop Madam Pomfrey from coming, nor Hermione from barging in on him in a few minutes if he didn't show up for lunch.
Unfortunately for Harry, the word lunch had a negative effect on his stomach and the raven-haired teen was forced to run to the nearest washroom without his clothes.
Albus Dumbledore was lost in thought as he dined with his remaining staff and guests for the summer. Poppy was going to see Harry today. Tomorrow was the young wizard's seventeenth birthday, his coming of age. He would have to pay the boy, no, Albus mentally corrected himself, the youngman, a visit, to see if any of the Potter gifts were dominant in his blood.
That was the complicated thing with heading such a school, Albus thought with a grin. Every pure blood was gifted with a particular ability that was passed down generation to generation. Only one child per generation could possess the gift as was made very clear when Ronald Weasley inherited the ability to control fire. If Ron had turned seventeen without inheriting it, Ginny would have been the only one able to.
Since most pure bloods have only one heir, that child is destined to receive the gift as was true for two of the four children sitting at the Head Table. Draco Malfoy was gifted with the ability to create and control water, an obvious opposite from the Weasleys, explaining the reason behind their many feuds.
Pansy Parkinson had inherited the ability to control the air, and manipulate its currents. Unfortunately, this gift appeared to be weak and very limited in that family's line.
The Zabinis, having two children, had been in the same position as the Weasleys until Blaise had turned seventeen and inherited the ability to become a shadow. Each power reflected the nature of its bloodline; the Weasleys known for having fiery tempers, the Malfoys for being unreadable, the Parkinsons for being airy, and the Zabinis for being masters of hiding in plain sight.
The Potters however, were different. Not many families in the Wizarding World, one or two at the most here in Europe, could claim to have the gift of Sight like the Potters could. The fact that Harry had shown an interest in Divinations was a very good sign. Perhaps it best if Poppy explained what would be happening to him when she visited the Gryffindor later that evening.
Albus finished scraping off his plate before clearing his throat. Most of the table looked at him.
"Are you still planning to see Mr. Potter today, Poppy?" He asked the medi-witch kindly.
The table was tense with just that one sentence. Madam Pomfrey gave the Headmaster a look but nodded all the same.
"Yes, he's due for his weekly check-up. For the life of me, I still cannot figure out what curse who make him so sick." She gave the old wizard a shrewd look. "Why?"
Albus merely pushed his plate away and smiled brightly at the suspicious look his Head Nurse was giving him.
"Harry is turning seventeen tomorrow. I was hoping you would explain to him what to expect."
Poppy Pomfrey glared at the Headmaster.
"You mean to tell me that that poor boy has no idea what he is in for? Does he even know that half-bloods can inherit their families' gifts if they are the last descendant?"
"Yes and no."
Poppy huffed angrily before looking at her watch. It was half past one. She stood, throwing down her napkin.
"I'm leaving early. The poor boy needs to know something in time to prepare. I may even have to bring him back with me if he is still as sick as before."
Madam Pomfrey trudged away from the Head Table as Dumbledore called out to her.
"I trust your discretion, Poppy!"
If Poppy hadn't been such a respected member of the Hogwarts staff, she would have flipped the irritating Headmaster the finger. Seeing as she was a respected member of the Hogwarts staff, the nurse simply ignored him, slamming the door on her way out.
Hermione gave Harry a concerned look as the emerald-eyed wizard groaned. His head hurt. Well, Harry's head hurting was nothing unusual, but it wasn't his usual headache, and that was very unusual.
Harry blinked. What? Great! Now his own thoughts were confusing him.
Hermione had dragged him into the library to mope and worry about tonight while she read a book on pregnancy she had found in the back of the Black Library. The bushy-haired witch was nervous herself, throwing the book across the room whenever someone walked up the hall or the front door opened.
For someone who wanted him to tell everyone the news, she sure was being awfully secretive about it. Hermione looked back at her book in thought.
"Do you have any idea how far along you could be? Any at all?"
Harry sighed before shrugging. "Like Blaise said, our memories were erased sometime in April. The time frame is too large.
Hermione 'hmm'ed. "You can't be three months along already. For one thing your morning sickness would have stopped by now and it only started a bit after you arrived here. If I had to guess, I'd say you got pregnant just before you were rescued."
Harry cringed at the word 'pregnant'. It seemed so wrong. Even though he had told Hermione he would never kill his baby, thoughts of how it could have got there began, and so did thoughts that told Harry how simple it would be to fall down the second floor stairs accidentally...
Hermione must have seen the dark look cross Harry's face.
"What's wrong?" she asked again, this time putting the book down.
Harry swallowed past the rising lump in his throat.
"What if- what if this is a Death Eater's child? What if it's-" Harry took a breath. "What if it's his?"
Hermione bit her lip. They had avoided this topic of conversation, mostly because she thought Harry wouldn't be able to handle it. Still, Hermione knew that it must have passed through Harry's mind what this meant. What had happened to him?
She left out a deep breath, fluffing her bangs. Hermione wished for the days when she could still move freely; without pain or the worry that she would damage herself further. It just seemed like her days were always filled with fear lately, and the one time Harry needed her, she couldn't go to him.
"Come here." she said sternly, and Harry was swift to obey.
Hermione looked at her best friend. His face was pale from having his head in the toilet all lunch, making the circles under his eyes stick out. If there was one thing Hermione was thankful for, it was that this pregnancy gave his eyes back some of their former life. Even though they now shone with worry, it was better than that dull, blank stare that Harry had acquired when he woke up in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts.
"It doesn't matter who the father of this baby is. She said. Harry gave her a scandalized look and she grinned. "Okay the other father of this baby. The fact of the matter is that it's yours, and anyone who cares about it will not care about anything else but that. If they do, it's their loss. No matter what we find out, there are two victims here: you and that baby. You're in this together, with me all along the way. Understand?"
Harry nodded and Hermione hugged her best friend.
"Besides," she said with a grin. "I'm kind of hoping to be a godmother and spoil your kid rotten."
Harry grinned back and was about to reply when Mrs. Weasley's voice cut him off.
"HARRY! Madam Pomfrey is here to see you!"
Harry went from grinning and a peachy-pale to horror-struck and deathly pale in a matter of seconds. Hermione quickly grabbed the boy's shoulders.
"Harry, you need to calm down! It's not healthy for the baby to get upset."
Harry was nodding but the faraway look in his eyes told Hermione he hadn't heard a word his friend had said.
Using the arms of the chair, the muggle-born witch slowly pushed herself into standing position and took hold of Harry's elbow. The young hero stood without much strength on her part so she quickly led him toward the door.
"I'll just tell Poppy that you might have an idea of what's wrong with you and you'll take it from there." Hermione whispered as she dropped Harry off in his room. The black haired Gryffindor was still in his sleep like state and didn't move.
Closing the door, Hermione rubbed her face brusquely. Today was the day. She would have loved to have been the one to tell the medi-witch the news but this would help Harry's healing process, both mentally and physically if he did it himself.
"Ms. Granger? How are you?"
Poppy's voice startled Hermione and she jumped. Landing on her feet, she winced as pain flared up her back. Poppy put a hand to her chest.
"Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry. I should have known not to startle you. How is your back?"
Hermione grimaced as she rubbed the body part.
"It's getting better. I can climb the steps now."
Poppy smiled. "That's wonderful! Do be sure to not overdo it though."
Hermione nodded before looking nervous. "Poppy, Harry said he has an idea of what might be making him sick. Ask him please."
The nurse looked shocked for a moment before reaching for the bag that was supposed to be to dangling from her wrist. She snapped her fingers in anger.
"Blast! Hermione, dear, could you please go and fetch my bag? I must have left it down in the kitchen with Molly."
The witch nodded and took off, going as fast as her aching back would allow.
Poppy quickly opened the door to see Harry standing in the same place Hermione had left him. He was pale and sweating. She crossed the floor and felt his forehead.
"Dear, you have a high temperature! How do you fell? Headache? Tired? Weak? Harry?"
The teenage wizard wasn't responding to her questions as his breathing became uneven. Alarmed, Poppy grabbed his chin and looked into those beautiful emerald eyes.
"Hermione said you have an idea of what might be making you sick. Please tell me so I can fix it."
Unfortunately for her those were not the right words to say as Harry promptly passed out. Poppy barely had time to catch him before he fell. No spells could be used on his body as the medi-witch did not know what was ailing the wizard, so, laying him gently on the floor, she ran to the door and threw it open.
Bill Weasley jumped back in fright as the door he was just walking by flew open and the panicked face of Madam Pomfrey met him. She grabbed his arm tightly before dragging him into the room.
"Pick him up! I need to take him to Hogwarts right away! Come!"
Bill wasted no time in carefully putting his strong arms under Harry's knees and back, lifting him bridal style and following the scurrying nurse.
Downstairs they were met by Hermione at the fireplace.
"What happened?" she exclaimed, still holding Poppy's bag.
The nurse waved a dismissing hand at her.
"He's ill and fainted before he could answer any of my questions. Now, is not the time Hermione! Go Bill!"
Madam Pomfrey threw the Floo Powder down and Bill hopped in shouting, "Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts!" Unfortunately, that was the only room to have a fireplace with Floo access.
Completely forgetting her bag, Poppy Pomfrey quickly followed Bill, leaving Hermione standing by the fireplace, thinking about what had just happened.
Ginny came down the stairs and gave Hermione a questioning look.
"What's going on? I heard a lot of yelling."
The younger girl's voice snapped Hermione out of her trance. She lurched forward suddenly.
"Harry's gotten worse! I need to get Madam Pomfrey her bag! Tell your mother where I've gone."
Ginny opened her mouth to ask just where Hermione was going but the brown-eyed Seventh Year was gone before she could make a sound.
"Wait, did she say Harry was sick again? MOM!"
Dumbledore stood when he saw Bill fly into his office with Harry Potter in his arms. Poppy was merely seconds behind.
"What's happened?" asked the Headmaster, worry coloring his voice. His head nurse threw her hands up in the air.
"I have no idea; he's just gone and fainted on me. If he doesn't awake before we get to the Hospital Wing I'll have to risk a potion on him."
Dumbledore's face was grave. "I'll get Severus." All three swiftly left the office.
Hermione stepped out of the fireplace just minutes after Poppy, her face flushed. Her back was aching and her legs shaky but she pushed through the pain.
Harry needed her.
The office was empty and Hermione threw down the nurse's bag in frustration. It wasn't like she needed it now that she was back at Hogwarts. Using the furniture in the room to hold her up, Hermione made it to the rotating stairs with a sigh of relief. The Hospital Wing was just around the corner from the Headmaster's office.
The corridors were empty as she puffed her way toward the large double doors of the Hospital Wing. Inside, Professor Snape was just handing Poppy a vile when Hermione pushed open the door.
"Don't give that to Harry!"
Snape scowled. "Ms. Granger, he needs to wake up so that we can heal him. Poppy said he knows what is wrong-"
Hermione nodded. "Yes, and so do I, but you cannot give him that vile!"
Dumbledore gave her a measured look. "Why not Hermione?"
The future Head Girl sighed.
"Because he's pregnant."
A/N:It was very tempting to write 'Snape raised an eyebrow. "who's da daddy?"' but I stopped myself. That wouldn't be very snape-ish behaviour! Thanks to Irite4uall for beta-ing!
S.Tangerine
