Songs - Conscious by Broods, So High by Ghost Loft, and Fallen From Your Arms by Bob Moses
Chapter Fifteen: (Un)Expecting
The timer on Hermione's watch went off, and she sat there unmoving, too afraid to look down and see the results that were waiting for her. She stared forward at the wall, barely blinking, barely doing anything but listening to the suddenly overwhelming thud of her heartbeat, but after a few minutes, the shame in not being able to face the truth settled in, and she finally mustered to courage to glance at the white stick in her hands.
Fuck.
Two bold, red lines stared back at her.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Tossing the test on the floor next to the pile of other Muggle pregnancy tests that were already piled near her feet, she threw her head into her hands. There was no way to pretend this wasn't real; the dozens of tests she had taken over the past few hours, Muggle and magical alike, told her it was very real. She was pregnant, and she had absolutely no idea what to do.
It's not that she was afraid of being a mother – it was quite the opposite actually – but how could she have let this happen now?
She had been taking the potion for years, but mistakes certainly could happen. And while she was normally diligent about taking it every single day, she could still think of a handful of times she had taken it late or forgotten it completely over the past few weeks.
Obviously, she should have been more careful.
As unexpected as the news was, she knew she was mature enough to handle the responsibility of a child, to handle the shame people would try to make her feel for being an unwed expectant mother, but her stomach twisted in knots as she thought about Draco. They had only been together for a couple of months, and she doubted having a child with her was something he had been planning to happen anytime soon (if at all). It hadn't even been a topic of discussion, and there was no way for her to predict how he might react to the news.
Her mind was racing. She sat on the edge of the tub in her bathroom, but the more she thought about telling him, the more she convinced herself that if there was anything that would cause him to leave her, it would be this.
She was so lost in her own thoughts that she completely missed the sound of the front door slamming shut.
"Hermione?" Draco's voice called from the kitchen, yanking her back to reality.
Fuck, she thought as she cast her gaze nervously to the collection of tests strewn below her on the bathroom floor. I don't know how to tell him.
She flicked her wand, quickly discarding the tests, and moved in front of the mirror, shrinking away from the judgement she caught in her own reflection. She took a few deep breathes before charming away the evidence of her tears and hastily straightening her clothing.
"Be right there!" she called as she turned on the faucet in the sink.
She splashed water on her face and slowed her breathing before unlocking the bathroom door and walking into the kitchen where Draco, who was still dressed in his Quidditch robes, was unloading a bag of groceries.
"I thought you'd be gone all morning," she said, hugging him from behind.
"I know you haven't been feeling well the last couple of days," Draco began, turning around in her arms so that he could place a kiss on her forehead. "I slipped out of practice early to come home and make you some pancakes."
I have to tell him, she thought as he rubbed her back. Just tell him.
But she didn't.
"Are you feeling any better?" he asked, moving a hand to brush the hair out of her face, his fingers lingering along the side of her face.
"A little," Hermione lied, forcing herself to smile. Truthfully, she was feeling anything but. "I still feel a little queasy though," she added knowing that she wouldn't be able to hide it if she threw up again.
What had started as a strange sensation in the back of her head, a stress induced tension headache or something like it, had quickly spread to the rest of her body, making it difficult for her to do anything other than lie in bed. It was only when the nausea hit her that she was finally able to piece together what was happening, and by then, it was far too late to pretend it was anything other than what it really was.
"Well, then I'm going to have to insist that you spend the rest of the day in that bed," Draco declared, scooping her into his arms bridal style and carrying her to the bedroom where he placed her softly on the bed.
I really need to tell him, she thought again.
But still, she didn't. She couldn't. She was too paralyzed with fear.
She crawled under the covers as Draco set to work in the kitchen, her mind chaotic with worry and indecision. For the sake of her momentary cover, she hoped she would be able to eat the food he was cooking, but she could already feel the nausea creeping its way back into her body and wasn't sure she'd be able to hold it together. She shut her eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to think of anything that would distract her from the acid churning uncomfortably in her stomach. And as the nausea once again washed over her, she cocooned herself in the blankets, wishing she could pretend that she didn't know what she knew, that all of those tests he had taken had just been a dream. She tried to logic her way out of her predicament, tried to find the courage to get out of bed and tell him right then and there, but her eyes succumbed to the exhaustion weighing her body down, and she quickly drifted into an uneasy sleep.
The next thing she remembered was waking up as Draco crawled into the bed next to her, his hair still wet from a relatively recent shower.
"Are you hungry?" he whispered sweetly in her ear.
Her eyes blinked open, confused.
"Oh no," she said, suddenly realizing it was much later in the day than it had been when he'd first deposited her in the bed. "I fell asleep before you could feed me."
"Don't worry about it," he assured her, pausing to wrap his arms around her before placing a soft kiss on her lips. "You needed the rest," he added, his quicksilver eyes studying her with obvious concern.
She buried her head against him, trying to hide from his powerful gaze, and inhaled the clean scent of his body.
You have to tell him.
But before she could open her mouth to do it, her stomach grumbled, rudely reminding her that she hadn't eaten anything all day.
"If you're still willing," she began, turning to look at him again. "I'll take those pancakes now."
"Chef Malfoy, at your service," Draco replied, placing another kiss on her lips before slipping out of bed and hurrying away to the kitchen.
As Draco began to pile ingredients on the counter, Hermione reluctantly pulled herself out of the warm bed and made her way to the bathroom where she was immediately overcome with panic. She knew she needed to tell him, but the thought of doing it now... she just couldn't do it. Just one more day, she promised herself. I'll tell him tomorrow. She paused to look at herself in the mirror, her brown eyes still judging her from her reflection, before shaking her head and heading back out into the kitchen.
But it wasn't just one more day. One day turned into two, which quickly turned into two weeks, and still, she found herself incapable of telling him the news. Every time she thought she had mustered the courage to talk to him, she would envision him leaving her, angry that she had been so irresponsible, that she had forced him to become a father when he didn't want the role, and it would keep her from telling him her secret.
She knew she was being irrational; she knew he was not that kind of man, but still, she was so terrified of losing him that she, Hermione Granger, began ignoring all logic.
As the days passed, her morning sickness became more violent, and she found herself struggling to not only hide what was really going on but also to keep up with the rigors of her assignments at work. Both Draco and Harry assumed her odd behavior was due to stress (oh, the cluelessness of a couple of grown-up boys), and they insisted that she take a few days off from work, but she refused until they threatened to drag her to St. Mungo's.
On her first day off from work, after a rather troublesome panic attack on the kitchen floor, she decided that it was long past time to make sure the baby was okay and phoned a Muggle doctor's office near where she had grown up to schedule an appointment. It didn't make any sense, the fact that she couldn't tell Draco what was going on, and she hoped finally seeing a doctor, even if she was doing it behind his back, would give her the final push she needed to be honest with him.
Her anxiety skyrocketed in the days leading up to the appointment, and immediately after Draco left for work each day, she would collapse into a nervous breakdown, both angry and confused at her inability to tell the father of her child – the man she undoubtedly loved – that she was pregnant with their child. She would cry until she had nothing left to cry, until her body went numb, and then fall asleep wherever she happened to curl up into the fetal position. It was a maddening cycle, and she knew it needed to stop. For the sake of the baby, for the sake of her relationship with Draco, she needed to find her damn Gryffindor courage and tell him everything.
On the day of her appointment, she waited nervously for Draco to leave for work, kissing him goodbye, before Apparating to the doctor's office. She was unsure of what to expect as she walked inside but let out a sigh of relief when she finally pushed the last door open into the small office. The hard part was done; she was finally here.
After checking in at the counter, she moved to a seat in the corner, filling out the intake forms while trying to push aside the fresh nerves that were quickly threatening to overturn her brief moment of calm. What if she had waited too long? What if, in her weeks of shock, something had happened to the baby? She felt her heartbeat quicken, and in an attempt to keep herself from overheating, she tore off the scarf she had wrapped around her neck and hastily tied her hair up into a bun.
Hold it together, Hermione, she told herself.
And she did… for a few seconds.
Thankfully, before the all too familiar pull of an impending panic attack took over her body, a kind, middle-aged nurse named Martha called her name and escorted her back to an examination room. The nurse, obviously practiced in interacting with overly anxious first-time mothers, took one look at Hermione and reassured her that she was safe.
"Just a little nervous," Hermione tried to explain.
"Darling, a word doesn't exist to explain the emotions you are likely going through right now," Martha told her, smiling sweetly. "If men had to go through all of this," she continued, gesturing to the posters the room (some containing images that Hermione would prefer to forget), "the world would be a much different place."
Hermione, who hadn't expected to find anything about her situation remotely funny, laughed. Just picturing Harry, or any father for that matter, having to deal with a single one of the adverse effects of pregnancy was almost more than she could handle. "Thank you," she managed after a few moments, "I needed that."
Content that her patient was finally somewhat calm, Martha began administering a seemingly endless number of tests, pausing to crack jokes each time that Hermione's smile faded away. It was only when a young, brown-haired woman entered the room, pausing to move a rogue few strands of hair behind her ears before quickly washing her hands, that Hermione realized just how much time must have passed.
"Sorry for the delay," the woman announced, tossing a paper towel in the trash. "I'm Dr. Wilkes," she said, extending her hand to Hermione. "How are you feeling?"
"Nervous, but better now that I'm here," Hermione admitted, smiling weakly as the doctor sat down in the chair next to the examination table.
"Totally normal," Dr. Wilkes responded with a smile, her bright blue eyes sparking under the overly harsh overhead lights. "Thank you, Martha," she added, turning toward the nurse who had just finished collecting a vial of Hermione's blood.
Martha nodded at the doctor and turned back toward Hermione. "She's the best," she whispered as Dr. Wilkes began to look over Hermione's chart. "It'll be just fine, darling," she promised, squeezing Hermione's hand before collecting her things and leaving the room.
"It looks like the only thing we have left is the ultrasound," the doctor said, looking up from the papers in her hand. "And then I'd be happy to answer any of your questions."
Hermione nodded and watched as the doctor wheeled a cart to the side of the best.
"I'll need you to lay back onto the pillow and lift your shirt a bit," Dr. Wilkes instructed as she opened the container of gel next to the machine.
Hermione complied quickly, her hands shaking slightly as she moved her shirt up to rest near the band of her bra. When she was comfortable, the doctor covered her exposed skin in a thin layer of gel.
"This might be a little cold," Dr. Wilkes warned her before moving the transducer to Hermione's stomach.
Hermione watched as the doctor moved the tool around his stomach, and while she could only just see the edge of the screen the woman was studying, her heart began to flutter nervously at the thought that her baby was somewhere in the ultrasound image.
"It looks like you're probably 9 weeks along," Dr. Wilkes explained after a few minutes.
The doctor froze the image on the monitor next to the examination table and turned it so Hermione could see her baby for the first time. Despite barely recognizing what she was looking at, she choked back tears as the doctor smiled at her from her position next to the machine. It was strange, seeing an image of the child she knew was growing inside of her, but the picture made her heart ache in ways she had never experienced before. This baby was a part of her, a part of the man she cared so deeply about, and she already loved it more than she could have ever imagined.
"The baby is doing well," the doctor assured her. "I don't see anything at all to be concerned about. The rest of your tests will come back in a few days, and I will call if there's anything to be concerned about."
Hermione, who had stopped listening after 'the baby is doing well' part, nodded quickly when she realized that Dr. Wilkes had stopped talking.
I have to tell him.
"I'd like to see you again in 3-4 weeks for another checkup," the doctor said after giving Hermione a few more moments to collect herself. "I don't mean to pry, but if you're doing this alone there are resources to help you," she added quietly.
"Oh no, the father is ecstatic!" Hermione lied, forcing a smile on her face. "He just couldn't get off of work today."
Dr. Wilkes eyed her suspiciously but thankfully didn't push the matter.
"Have you been experiencing any morning sickness?" she asked, flipping to another page on Hermione's chart.
"I've been pretty nauseous the past couple of weeks," Hermione admitted, cringing slightly as the memories of the past couple of days flooded her mind, "and I haven't been able to keep much food down."
Dr. Wilkes nodded. "That's very normal," she told her. "Eating small meals throughout the day might be easier on your stomach," she offered, her voice soothing Hermione's last remaining nerves. "But the nausea should pass in the next couple of weeks."
While the doctor talked through plenty of things Hermione could try to help calm her morning sickness, it was clear from the lack of any concrete, one size fits all solutions that she would probably benefit more from speaking to a Healer at St. Mungo's. Muggle medicine, it appeared, just wasn't going to cut it.
"There is something else that's been bothering me," Hermione suddenly remembered. "I've been getting these headaches, some fairly intense."
"How intense?" Dr. Wilkes asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"I used to get migraines as a child," Hermione began, struggling to find a way to explain the sensations she had been feeling over the past couple of weeks, "but these feel different. I wouldn't quite describe them as painful, but they can be quite debilitating. It's almost feels like a small electrical charge is radiating outward from the back of my skull."
"Hmm," the doctor mumbled. "Do the headaches occur at the same time as the nausea?"
"Almost always," Hermione replied.
"And they're not painful?" Dr. Wilkes prompted curiously.
Hermione shook her head. "Mostly just uncomfortable," she replied, "like they're interfering with my equilibrium or something."
The doctor smiled reassuringly. "I know it may not feel like it," she began, tucking her clipboard under her arm, "but all these aches and pains are unfortunately just part of the process. A lot of women experience headaches during their pregnancy. Your body is doing a lot work growing another human being, and sometimes, it's not always easy," she continued, looking at Hermione sympathetically. "If the headaches start getting worse, ring the office, and we'll get you in a for an earlier appointment."
"Thank you," Hermione said, breathing a sigh of relief.
After asking the doctor a few more questions, mostly to make she understood what to expect in the coming weeks, Hermione exited the office and Apparated home, her mind once again fretting with her decision to keep Draco in the dark. The appointment had been much longer than she anticipated, and when she opened the door to her flat, she was suddenly overcome with exhaustion. She closed the door behind her and leaned her body against it, allowing her eyes to close while her hand clutched the image of the sonogram the doctor had printed for her before she left in her pocket.
"Where have you been?"
Startled, she opened her eyes and saw Draco standing with his arms crossed in the middle of the kitchen, his eyes narrowed.
"I– you scared me," Hermione replied, unable to hide the shock she felt at finding him in her flat in the middle of the work day. She released her grip on the sonogram and quickly pulled her hand out her pocket. "I went out for a walk. I can't stand being cooped up in here all day," she added, hoping that he'd accept the excuse for her absence.
He studied her, clearly bothered by her response, but remained quiet.
Tell him!
"I thought you might want some lunch," he said finally, his features still stiff as he pointed to a bag on the counter.
"Oh, thank you," she said moving toward him. "You didn't have to do that."
When she was in front of him, she leaned in to wrap her arms around his waist, but he stopped her, his eyes staring into the space behind her.
"Hermione, what's wrong?" Draco asked, his voice laden with desperation.
"N-nothing," she lied.
Tell him.
The hurt in his eyes was obvious. "I wish you would trust me enough to tell me what's going on. I know something is bothering you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Nothing is wrong," she lied again. "I know I haven't been myself the past couple of weeks, but I think you and Harry were right. I think I was letting myself get too stressed at work," she paused, her heart beating furiously as he refused to meet her eyes. "I'm already feeling better after a few days of rest."
Draco sighed, finally looking down at her with his stormy eyes.
"Draco," she begged, her eyes stinging as she tried to fight back the tears threatening to escape.
Don't leave me. Please don't leave me.
It was torture waiting for him to speak, and she almost told him, the words poised at the end of her tongue, but he grabbed her and pulled her into him before she found the courage to set them free.
"I'm worried about you," he said as he rested his forehead against hers, his heart beating furiously below his chest.
Worried didn't even begin to explain how Draco felt. For the first time in their relationship, he felt like she was pulling away, and it drove him crazy that he couldn't figure out why. He knew something was bothering her, and he didn't understand why she was lying to him. What had he done wrong? Why wouldn't she talk to him about it?
"Being with you makes me feel better," she said as she snuggled against his body. "Thank you for coming to check on me."
"I can take the rest of the day off and stay here with you," he said, hoping that if he stayed she would eventually tell him what was wrong.
Hermione tilted her head to look at him, her warm brown eyes locked on the cool gray of his own. "Don't they need you at work?"
"Dean can finish going through the memory notes," he said simply. "There weren't that many left."
"Then yes, I'd like it very much if you stayed," Hermione told him before inching up on her toes to kiss him, her body still molded tightly against his.
Incapable of staying angry when her body was pressed against his like it was, Draco smiled softly against her lips. His worry was still there, of course, but her touch, her kiss, assured him that she didn't want things to end. Whatever was bothering her, whatever was eating her away behind her fortress of a mind had to be fixable, and he wasn't going to let her keep pushing him away.
"Give me thirty minutes to run back to the Ministry and talk with Dean. Then I'm all yours," he said after they pulled apart. "And eat," he added, gesturing again to the bag on the counter. "You can't get better if you don't have food in your stomach."
"Okay," Hermione said as he released her.
She watched him leave, her hands involuntarily landing on her stomach as the door shut behind him, and decided she was going to tell him as soon as he got back. Her secret was eating her up inside, and she couldn't keep it in anymore. Whether he was ready or not, he deserved to know that he was going to be a father.
Draco landed in a dimly lit hallway, his eyes falling on a familiar green door. There was no reason for him to go back to the Ministry, Harry had already told him to spend the rest of the day with Hermione and Dean had assured him that he had things covered, but there was something he needed to grab from his place before he returned to her flat, something he wanted to give her when he finally told her that her that he loved her, and he hadn't wanted to give anything away.
His thoughts distracted him as he opened his front door and entered his flat, and he barely glanced at his surroundings as he walked down the small hallway to his bedroom. He paused in front of the small table next to his bed before opening the lone drawer and pulling out a small velvet bag. His heart was beating furiously now, and when he finally tipped the bag over, a beautiful diamond necklace adorned with a large emerald pendant fell heavily into his hand. It had belonged to his grandmother, bequeathed to him when she passed away, and he had held onto it all these years with the hope that he'd one day find someone he wanted to give it to.
Hermione was without a doubt that person. He didn't care that they hadn't been together very long or that his grandmother would turn over in her grave if she knew he was giving one of her most prized possessions to a Muggle-born witch. He loved her, and he couldn't wait any longer to tell her. He stared at the necklace for a few seconds longer, his heart still beating furiously at the realization of what he was about to do, before putting it back in the bag and slipping it in his pocket.
It was only then, when he walked out of his room, that he sensed something was wrong, that he had been too distracted when he first walked in to notice that he wasn't alone. He tried to pull his wand out without turning his head, without giving away that he knew, but a curse hit him before he had a chance to react, throwing his body against the wall while his neck snapped back awkwardly at the impact. His head exploded in pain as he crumbled to the ground, and he cast his eyes wildly around the room hoping to identify the source of the curse. He tried to steady himself, the room spinning around him, as he fumbled around on the floor for his wand.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a voice taunted.
Before he could react, a wand was at his throat, the end of it poking uncomfortably at his pulse point.
"What do you want?" Draco asked as blood began dripping down his face, obscuring the view of the man above him.
"You," the voice responded coolly.
The last thing he saw before he was knocked unconscious, was the sparkle of the necklace on the floor next to him.
a/n: A thousand thank you's for all of the reviews and follows. As promised, things are going to be intense for the next few chapters, so buckle up!
Also, that warning about torture and blood and gore that I posted on the very first chapter – probably best to heed that now.