Hermione listened with growing horror to Ronalds confession as he tried to explain what he had done. She didn't even feel a hint of remorse or pity at the furious gobsmacked look on Ronald Weasley's face as he started in on her choice of bed partners. For a handful of heartbeats she was thrilled that she had slept with Draco Malfoy because she could think of no other person on the entire planet that would upset Ron to this degree.
Unfortunately those few moments of spiteful satisfaction were quickly outpaced by her building panic. Out. She needed to get away from Ron. He was saying something to her and she didn't care. She didn't want to hear his anger or his scorn or his apologies or whatever was going to spew out of that mouth next. She'd heard quite enough from Ronald Weasley this morning, thank you very much. She grabbed her violated purse and the spilled contents using a hasty accio and sprinted for the door. Ronald had the nerve to try to block her path but she was in no mood to be trifled with, especially by the cause of her panic, and she flung him aside with a wave of her wand and darted to freedom. It took her only a few seconds to place a location in her mind and Apparate to her mother's.
She didn't bother to check if her parents were home, going straight to her old room, locking the door, and furiously pacing back and forth.
There was no need to be so upset.
Okay, there was a lot to be upset about. Mad about. Fucking furious about. But there was no need to be worried.
Just because she had woken up naked with Draco Malfoy and a hangover didn't mean that there had been any sex. She remembered Draco drinking just as much as she had and Merlin knows if Ron had downed that quantity of alcohol there would have been no possibility of sex of any kind, just mostly drunk fondling and maybe sicking up. She clearly remembered the hateful argument with Ron, leaving and going to the pub, running into a group of school chums celebrating a birthday. She remembered surprise that Draco was amongst the group, the thrill of taking shots with him, the tilt of his drunken smile. She however had no recollection of all how she had gone from the pub to the hotel. Still, Draco had to have been drunk, so attempts at sex probably failed.
Even as she reassured herself with this hope she knew it was a lie. The evidence was written all over her body. Her savagely tangled hair upon waking. The light whisker burn on her jaw and throat. Nipples too tender and sensitive to tolerate a bra. Love bites on the undersides of her breasts. Faint bruising on her thighs in the shape of splayed fingers. The low throbbing soreness inside that was the usual aftermath of a rough shagging. Her swollen lady bits. The wet stickiness in the knickers she'd discarded the second she had arrived home.
She'd taken quite the full inventory upon arriving home in the privacy of her shower. Trying to recall some detail. All she had was a vague foggy echo of desire, an impression of warm skin and friction. He'd left a map of where he'd been on her from head to toe. She just wished she could remember the journey.
She'd felt calm and relaxed and content upon waking in a way she hadn't for years. At least until the stabbing hangover attacked her eyes and she had to fumble for her purse and down a hangover potion forcing her into harsh wakefulness. Only to be immediately followed by a calming draught a few seconds later when she caught sight of her bed partner splayed shamelessly naked across three quarters of the bed on his back, cheerfully snoozing, and completely unaware of Hermione Granger freaking out, completely naked, next to the bed.
Cursing silently, trying to find both her shoes, and get the hell out of there before Malfoy woke and made everything ten times worse was not a great way to start the morning. Especially since the thought of going back to the flat she used to share with Ron covered in sex was literally the last thing on earth she wanted. She'd rather go back into the hotel and crash five or six more hours next to Malfoy. So instead she had gathered her composure as best she could and went flat hunting. She had been sure if she dallied long enough, Ron would go on over to his Mum's weekly brunch without her and she could pack up her stuff and be gone before he got home.
Of course, Ron never made things easy and was waiting for her, bleary eyed and hungover when she walked in the door. Apparently guilt ridden because he had sabotaged her damn birth control.
So she'd had unprotected sex. And unless she had hopped from room to room the night before, highly unlikely, she'd had unprotected sex with Draco Malfoy prat extraordinaire. Based on the condition of her body and her hormones she had apparently had fanfuckingtastic unprotected sex with Draco flipping Malfoy and didn't even get the satisfaction of remembering said experience that left her sore and satisfied.
Still, that didn't mean she had to be worried.
As Malfoy so loved to remind everyone in school he had plenty of money. So with advanced wizarding medical techniques he was likely to be free of any disease. Even if he had caught something with his whorish ways an expensive potion or two and he could be right back out shagging his way through wizarding London clean as a whistle.
Pregnancy was also probably unlikely. Despite the empty fertility potion she had noticed discarded in her bathroom this morning. It was only one night and Hermione knew that a woman with a healthy cycle was only fertile a few days a month. A fertility potion, she had to assume Ron had dosed her, only worked to enhance one's cycle. She had never researched it extensively since she was so careful with her birth control and fully prepared to deal with the consequences of pregnancy if she did happen to get pregnant with Ron's child.
Someone else's child, Malfoy's child, was a whole different kettle of fish. Still, what were odds that she had one night of unprotected sex with someone unsuitable to procreate with and she just happened to be fertile?
She supposed she had better figure it out so she would know how worried to be. Grateful that she had decided to run to her muggle parents home, Hermione quickly made her way to the family office, booted up her dad's desktop, and googled the information she needed. She found an online calculator, put in the dates of her most recent period, and stared horrified at the data on the screen.
Apparently she needed to be very worried.