7. "Sara" -Fleetwood Mac
November 30, 1998
Hermione woke to Doctor Astrid poking and prodding at her. "Just getting some vitals," she mumured. Hermione lifted her arm to brush her hair out of her face and frowned as something tugged. She looked down to find an I.V. attached to a huge bag of fluids.
"Ugh," she groaned. You would think that witches and wizards could have come up with a better method to hydrate some one by now. Hermione glanced around the room, finding it empty aside from the doctor and herself.
Doctor Astrid, noticing her glance said, "Your friends have gone home to get some rest at my urging. It's around 2 in the morning."
Hermione nodded, reaching a hand up to push away her wild curls.
"Do you feel like talking to me? It's not every day that I have a pregnant woman claiming that her virginity is still in tact."
Hermione frowned, biting her lip as tears welled in her eyes. "We can wait," the doctor said, "That's fine. You won't be released until sometime this evening. Try to get some rest."
"I just don't- I don't understand how this could happen to me," Hermione murmured, her voice shaky from holding back the replenished tears that threatened to spill over her lashes. "I bled. These past months, I had my monthly..."
The doctor shrugged as Hermione's voice trailed off. "It's not uncommon for women to mistake implantation bleeding for their periods. Especially if they have an irregular cycle."
Hermione's frown deepened and a pang of nausea rolled through her body. She clenched her teeth together, waiting for it to pass.
Doctor Astrid scribbled a few things down on her chart with a large, plumed quill. She pulled out a stack of papers and handed them over to Hermione, who took them hesitantly, glancing down at them. A colorful pamphlet on top depicted a pregnant witch, holding her ballooned stomach with a contented look on her face. The words above the picture flashed different colors of pastel, "KNOW YOUR OPTIONS: Adoption, Abortion, or Parenting. Hermione gulped back her tears as the doctor said, "Only if you feel up to a little reading, hm?" Before walking out of the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
The nausea abated and clinging to the only sort of control she could at the moment, Hermione flipped through the many packets and papers that lay in her lap, studying, reading, filing information away. How cord blood banking worked, breast feeding vs. bottle feeding, the importance of prenatal care, a list of adoption agencies and local orphanages, when to abort and the healing process... page upon page of incredibly useful information. She came upon nothing pertaining to spontaneous, mircaulous conception.
She wracked her brain, trying to remember if she had ever read about anything like this, but aside from baby Jesus being concieved in The Bible, she came up empty handed. There had to be a logical explanation for this. She though back to 9 weeks previously, trying to grasp for clues. The only instance she could think of where her memory was a bit fuzzy, and some pieces were missing quite completely, was the night she had gotten drunk at the White Wyvern.
Had she gotten so drunk that she had cheated on Ron and forgotten about it? Oh, Godric. Her hand flew to her mouth as she remembered the way her body had ached; she had blamed it on her hangover. The blood in her panties that she had shrugged off... Oh, Godric. Ron would never forgive her...
The door creaked open and Harry and Ron stepped in, both wearing matching expressions of unease. "Hey, 'Mione," Harry said, moving forward to sit down on the edge of her bed. He glanced down at the many pamplets and documents covering her lap. "Well, isn't that just like you. Studying." He forced a weak smile.
Hermione grimaced back, turning her gaze to where Ron still stood just inside the doorway. "Ron..." she began, and his gaze darkened.
"How long are you going to keep up the act Hermione?" Ron demanded, stomping forward to tower over her. Harry stood, placing a hand on his friend's chest as he gently pushed him back.
"Easy, mate. You need to stay calm. She's going through a lot-"
"She's going through a lot?" Ron shouted, "What the hell am I doing, then? Don't you think it's a lot to process when your girlfriend is suddenly pregnant and you know the little bastard's not yours because she never had sex with you!"
Tears spilled over Hermione's lashes, dripping onto her hospital gown. "Ron!" Harry snapped, "That's enough! You're upsetting her."
"Well, she bloody well ought to be upset! She cheated on me and got pregnant! Who was he Hermione? Or is it still going on?"
Hermione let out a strangled sob. "I-I don't kn-know, Ron... I- the only th-thing I can think of i-is that night- at the W-white Wyvern... I b-blacked out. Maybe I... Maybe I..."
"Oh, great. So, not only did you sleep around, but you don't even know who your baby's father is. I'd never have believed you a whore, Hermione, but I guess it's not exactly the first time I've been wrong."
That stung and she sucked in a suprised breath. "I can't remember, Ron! I don't kno- I w-was going to! I was going t-to lose my virginity to y-you! Last night. I h-had it all p-planned-"
Ron gave a mirthless chuckle. "Yeah, well, guess you didn't account for your pregnancy getting in the way of you losing your virginity! Bloody hell, Hermione, you are a real piece of work, you know that?"
"Ron, mate, I think you should go. Calm down a bit, before you come back." Harry said, pushing him towards the door.
"Come back? Come- Ha! The only way I'd even consider it is if she got rid of the problem. Then maybe I could forgive her. Maybe." He grabbed the door and stomped out, slamming it behind him.
He had spoken about her like she wasn't even there. Her heart was so torn. She was so confused. "Hermione?" Harry said, cautiously stepping toward her and lowering himself back down on her bedside. "Are you okay?"
"He's right," she whispered, silent tears still tracking down her pale cheeks. "I'm a terrible person."
"Hermione," Harry said, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. "You made a mistake. Everyone does. It just so happens that this is a big one. That doesn't make you a bad person or even less of a person. Ron's angry, and I can understand where he's coming from, but I also know that you were a wreck that night. You went out with something to prove, because of the way Ron was treating you. And he can't fault you for that. You can't remember anything about that night that might... help to jog your memory?"
She tried. She searched the deepest depths of her memory, and once again came up empty handed. "I drank alone at the White Wyvern and got a room at the Leaky Cauldron. That's all I'm sure of. There are missing chunks. Things I should be able to tell you that I can't. I don't understand. Does that happen a lot, when you get sloshed?"
Harry frowned. "Not especially. It almost sounds like someone tampered with your memory..."
Hermione frowned and then her eyes widened. "Harry... you don't think I was... Do you?"
Harry grimaced at the thought. "I don't know, Hermione. It's possible, I suppose. But I think that even as pissed as you were, you would still be able to light someone up like a Christmas tree if you felt threatened..."
"So, you think I willingly slept with someone. Someone who isn't Ron." Hermione bit her lip.
"I didn't say that." Harry muttered.
"What do I do, Harry? Tell me what I need to do..." Hermione pleaded, fresh tears welling in her eyes.
"I can't do that, 'Mione." He said, the empathy he felt over his friend's pain was evident in his voice, "I can't make that decision for you.""
Hermione sniffled, pulling the pamplets up into a pile. After a moments hesitation, she began to categorize and organise them. "Harry, could you get me a quill and some parchment?" She asked, sniffling again and sitting up straighter. He nodded and left the room. If she had to make this decision, she was going to be logical about it, searching out the facts and figures of each option and weighing them accordingly.
Draco had almost finished with his packing. He had finally relented to his mother's inexaustible nagging and decided to spend some time in Amsterdam. It wasn't like there was anything holding him here. His mind flickered to Granger, and he immediately shoved the thought away. He hadn't been able to keep her out of his mind, since their night together two months ago.
He hadn't seen her since, but he'd run into Potter a few times and the Weaselette. Seeing them had put him in a foul mood each time, bringing his night with Granger back to the forefront of his memory. He'd sworn Blaise and Theo to secrecy, threatening to go to Rita Skeeter with their attempted escapades with the witch they'd tried to woo that night, should they breathe a word. He wasn't worried about any one hearing anything from those two.
He shrunk his bags down to pocket size and stowed them inside of his robes, exited his apartment and took the lift down to the ground floor. He'd said goodbye to his friends already, now he just had some last minute business to take care of at Gringotts before he apparated.
On the way to Diagon Alley, he passed St. Mungo's, taking note of the red haired girl running in hurriedly. That was the 'she-weasel' carrying a bunch of pink and blue balloons. He wondered briefly who she knew at St. Mungo's. He shook his head, clearing it, before continuing on. It didn't matter. Their family produced like rabbits, it was probably her uncle's cousin's sister's niece, twice removed or something of the sort. He continued on, dismissing the small moment from his mind.
His business at Gringott's finished up quickly, and he shuffled outside, tucking his money bag into his pocket with his luggage, before turning on the spot and apparating.
He popped up in front of the Amsterdam Manor, tapping his wand on the gate to unlock it and breezing through. He'd barely reached the door, when it swung open and his mother rushed out to greet him. "Oh, Draco, how I've missed you!" She squealed, planting kisses on both of his cheeks.
"Enough, Mother. It hasn't been that long." Draco said, shrugging out of her grasp.
"Long enough," Narcissa snapped. Movement behind her caught his eye and he glanced around to find a gorgeous brunette witch standing in the doorway. Her hair fell in perfectly styled brown ringlets and her red lips were puckered as she studied him with deep green eyes. "Oh, I forgot to mention. We have guests. The Greengrass' are spending Christmas with us. Won't that be lovely, darling?"
Draco swallowed and nodded. Yes, he thought, very lovely indeed.
"Did you know that we're at an all time high in the teen pregnancy epidemic? I'm contributing to an epidemic." Hermione said, worry etched on her face.
"Hermione, I some how don't think you count. You may be 19, but I mean, mentally you're probably at least 30." Ginny said, rearranging the balloon bouqet she had brought with her.
"The cost of raising a child is astronomical! I have an entry level Ministry job for Merlin's sake!"
"How much does it say there?" Ginny asked, quizzically.
"25,000 galleons! I don't have that kind of money! Honestly, I mean- 25,000 galleons equals out to be nearly 187 thousand pounds! Who knew children were so expensive?" Hermione rushed out, flipping through paper after paper as Ginny watched her warily.
"Mum and Dad raised 7 of us on just Dad's Ministry salary alone. You can do it, if you put your mind to it, Hermione. You can make it work..." Ginny said, smiling softly at her friend.
"Yes, but Arthur was able to work while Molly stayed home with you all. Have you seen this pamplet on the cost of childcare?" Hermione asked, shoving a bright purple pamplet into Ginny's reluctant hands. "It's ridiculous."
"Hermione," Ginny said gently, as if talking to a small child having a tantrum, "You need to breathe. You're extremely stressed and that's not good for the baby."
Hermione frowned, feeling the tears begin to well up again. "What about what's good for me, Gin? I... I just don't see how having this baby could ever work. And, the amount of babies in orphanages is just heartbreaking. I think I've already made up my mind..."
Ginny cringed and Hermione knew that her friend was going to be hurt by her decision. She had been trying to get Hermione to discuss baby names and what color the nursery would be since she had gotten there this morning. But, as Harry had so bluntly put it earlier that morning, it was her choice. Nobody could make it for her. She was going to have to deal with whatever outcome, either way she decided.
"I'm going to have the abortion."
Tears welled in Ginny's eyes and she squeezed Hermione's hand. She remained quiet, but stayed, clasping Hermione's hand tightly as they cried together.