CHAPTER TWO
Summary: Hermione Granger, one of the brightest minds of her generation, makes a decision that will ultimately change her future plans. At twenty-three, she finds herself moving to a strange town that's a hell-mouth for supernatural beings, pregnant, and in way over her head. And the father of her unborn child? The tall, dark and handsome werewolf, Derek Hale. Rated M for a reason.
Disclaimer: I do not own canon events and characters, they belong to J.K Rowling and the creators of Teen Wolf and MTV. This is purely for entertainment purposes and I am not making a profit from the posting of this. This is set after Season 3, and everything from season 4 onwards doesn't happen; so no deadpool, Beast, Dread Doctors, Wild Hunt or Hunters. Allison still died, Liam will still be appearing, and there is no Kira or Malia. Derek is 22 and Hermione is 23. I'm fudging the time line a bit, too.
Page count: 10
Two months later...
The sounds of chirping birds woke Hermione and her eyes slowly opened as she stretched herself out in her bed, sighing when her back seemed to 'click' and she snuggled further into the warmth of her blanket as she stared between the small gap in the curtains and out the window. It seemed that day was going to be cloudy with showers, but she didn't mind; it reminded her of Britain.
It had been two months since finalising the details of her move from Britain and now she had been in her new home for a week. She was assigned the location of Beacon Hills, a known hell-mouth for supernatural beings, and seeing as most of her time would be spent on the place, she'd decided it would be easier to just move there. She didn't exactly work for the RCMC Department per se, but she was to report to them if she came across a series of killings and she was to be the one responsible for finding the culprit and obtaining it, if not, killing it.
The job allowed her freedom to continue with her research into magical and supernatural beings, as well as working the hours she wished to and getting paid handsomely for her efforts. And she was her own boss, too. She had no one watching for her to make mistakes, or to follow her around asking for photographs, interviews and autographs. She had no restrictions either, as long as she complied with the laws, she had full control over how she dealt with a situation or case. She just had to remember to turn in her report to the American RCMC Department, so it would be accessible in case it was needed for future reference.
It had taken little time to get her affairs sorted and once she'd said her goodbyes to Harry and The Weasleys, she packed up and moved as soon as she could. She'd found a little rundown cottage in a clearing in the middle of the woods and happily snatched it up, enjoying the fact that it was a fixer upper, but with the aid of magic she'd done so in only two days, and it had taken her even less time to decorate it.
It had the essentials of a kitchen and living room, a bathroom and it had two bedrooms and she'd cast an Enlargement Charm on the building in order for her to add another two rooms, a potions lab and a library.
In the week that she'd been in Beacon Hills, no strange deaths had occurred and nothing had drawn her attention, so she'd spent most of her time in her cottage, reading and brewing potions, and the rest of it exploring the expanse of woods. She hadn't really met anyone since her move, but she didn't think she would with being so far away from the other residents of Beacon Hills. She liked the solidarity; she liked the quiet, but even she needed human interaction, and all she had for company were Crookshanks and Magic, her cat and newly adopted puppy.
Hearing a quiet barking, she peered over the side of the bed and laughed at seeing the little pup sat down with his tail wagging and his floppy ears down on his head. She leaned over and picked up her new pet and settled him on the bed, laughing when he bounded over to Crookshanks who was asleep at the end of her bed. The old, grumpy cat wasn't impressed at being woken and he hissed at Magic and swiped at him with his paw. Magic only yipped and bowed his back with his tail swishing in the air, wishing to play.
Hermione chuckled and shook her head. "Magic," she called softly and the little puppy turned and bounded over to her, jumping up onto her stomach and licking at her face.
It had been her first day in Beacon Hills when she'd been driving down the road and almost ran over the little puppy. She'd skidded to a stop and jumped from the car, immediately chasing him through the woods until she caught up to him. She was able to get close enough to him that she could take him back to the car and take him to the vets. She hadn't seen a collar on him and he'd been dirty, and despite being scared, he had a lovely nature so she was sure he belonged to someone, so she took him to the vets to get him scanned for a microchip.
There she'd met Dr. Deaton, and she immediately took a liking to him. He was kind and friendly and welcomed her to Beacon Hills, engaging her in general conversation as he scanned the puppy for any identification. It turned out that he had been a stray and given his size, weight and that he was alone, the doctor suspected he was the runt of the litter and had fallen behind and gotten lost. Without thought, Hermione named him Magic, had Dr. Deaton give him his shots and had him micro chipped in case he got lost again or escaped. She'd taken him home and put him in the bath and fed him, before allowing him to explore his surroundings and meet Crookshanks.
They weren't quite sure on his breeding; he looked to be a crossbreed and from what they could tell, he seemed to have characteristics of both a golden retriever and a german shepherd. He had the floppy ears and body shape of the retriever, as well as the long fur and tail, but the fur colour was a strange patch work design of black, brown and gold, with his paws and face being speckled. He had the face of a german shepherd and the long legs of one, too, but his eyes were a mixture between brown and black.
In the week she'd had him, he'd settled in nicely, he'd put on weight and Hermione was convinced he'd already grown taller, too. He was only ten weeks old and already at the height of her knees.
When her stomach rumbled, she gently pushed the excited puppy off her and she pulled back the covers and climbed out of bed.
"I'm hungry, who wants breakfast?" Hermione asked aloud, laughing when Magic dived off the bed headfirst and Crookshanks stretched languidly, before jumping off the bed and following after him.
She fed Crookshanks and Magic first before turning her attention to making her own breakfast, egg on toast and a glass of milk. She sat herself at her kitchen table and before she'd even taken a bite of her breakfast, a wave of nausea hit her. Her chair skidded across the wooden floor as she darted out of it and to her bathroom, where she emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet. When finished she flushed the chain and leaned back against the wall as she sat on the floor.
She hated morning sickness, hated it.
She sighed before pulling herself to her feet and moving over to the sink as she brushed her teeth to remove the awful taste from her mouth. She splashed cold water over her face and then dried it off with a towel, and stared at herself in the mirror.
Who would've thought, Hermione Granger pregnant at the age of twenty-three to a man she'd only met once? But she was and there was nothing she could about it. She didn't have it in her to terminate the pregnancy, especially when she knew the troubles her own parents had had with trying to conceive. She'd been their miracle baby and the reason she was an only child. And once she'd had time to digest the news, she'd grown to love the little life force growing inside of her, and she'd love it even more if it stopped making her throw up every time she wanted to eat.
She'd discovered she was pregnant only three weeks ago. She hadn't been feeling well and her morning sickness had started really early on in her pregnancy, and after missing her period which was like clockwork, she'd cast the Pregnancy Charm several times, getting a positive result for each test.
She was exactly nine weeks to the day, and it hadn't been hard to figure it out given that she'd only had sex with two people in her life, and the last had been the stranger she'd met at the bar, Derek.
She hadn't told anyone she was pregnant, not even Harry, and she hadn't been to see a healer either, not trusting that her confidential information wouldn't be sold to the press. It had happened before. At the time she'd been digesting the news herself and she also didn't think it was anyone's business. She knew how judgemental the Wizarding World was on babies that were conceived before marriage, and she couldn't handle Molly Weasley's screeching. She was still sore over her breakup with Ron and she didn't want to give her another reason to hate her.
And before she told anyone else, she had to decide whether to tell the father of her child or not. She'd known it would be difficult to find him, giving that she only knew his first name and what he looked like, but The Ministry had a lot of resources that muggles didn't, and as it was, she believed she had a way to narrow down the search.
The days that followed her sleeping with Derek, she'd been unable to stop thinking about him, he was always in her thoughts and she found it hard to concentrate, he really had been a distraction. Over those days, pieces started slotting into place, certain things about him that she'd noticed but hadn't thought about until it became relevant.
His presence; it wasn't that of a muggle nor that of a wizard, it was something else. Something powerful and animalistic. He was strong; he'd held her weight for Merlin knows how long and hadn't once showed any sign of discomfort and he had left bruises on her. His scent; he smelled familiar, underneath the cologne he wore she'd caught the scent of trees, fresh air and grass, all things found in nature. His body temperature had been hotter than a regular human's, too. His eyes had flashed a different colour, she's thought she'd imagined it, but then she realised she hadn't, she really had seen it happen and she suspected it was the reason he'd hid his eyes from her once he'd found his relief, and he'd done so every time after, too. And he growled, too, but not just a growl, a growl that she'd link to a wolf. And then everything had fallen into place.
He was a werewolf.
She was surprised it had taken her a few days to figure it out since she was able to spot a werewolf with her eyes closed, but then she realised something else. Not only did he not have a magical aura surrounding him, his eyes hadn't flashed amber like a magical werewolf, or a werewolf bitten by a magical, which made him a supernatural werewolf. And that had been why it had taken her so long for her mind to put the pieces together. She had only come into contact with three supernatural werewolves in her life, one of them being Derek. She wasn't as familiar with them.
And whilst it wasn't hereditary for a magical werewolf, it was for a supernatural werewolf, which meant their child would not only be a witch or wizard, but likely a werewolf, too. And that had been the final factor in deciding to track him down and tell him. Not only did he deserve to know, but she had no idea how to raise a supernatural werewolf, nor a magical one for that matter.
Having his name, knowing what he looked like and knowing that he was a supernatural werewolf, as soon as she'd landed in America she'd headed straight over to The Ministry in Washington, D.C and had them pull the files of every supernatural werewolf named Derek.
Unsurprisingly there'd been more than a few names on the list, and none of them had photos in their files for security reasons, so she had to trust her instincts, and when she stumbled upon the name Derek Hale, she just knew it was him. And what made it all the more strange was that he lived in Beacon Hills, too. It was almost as if it were fate. What were the chances that she sleeps with a stranger and falls pregnant with his child, only to move to the town where he lived? After all she'd seen over the years, she admitted to herself that there were higher powers in the world, and so why had this happened? How had she fallen pregnant when she'd been on the Contraception Potion and they'd used a condom?
She shook her head, pulling herself from her thoughts.
After allowing herself a week to settle in and prepare to see him again, today was the day she was going to search for him. All she had was a last known address and it happened to be in the woods, too, approximately three miles north of her cottage.
With a final look in the mirror, she turned and left the bathroom, heading back to the kitchen where the baby finally let her eat something. She cleared away her things before leaving to dress for the day, slipping on a pair of black skinny jeans with pink hiking boots; she wore a white thick hooded jumper and a warm coat over the top, and pulled her hair back into a braid, letting it rest over her left shoulder.
She grabbed her back pack and put the file she had on Derek Hale into it, along with a bottle of water, some snack foods that hopefully wouldn't upset her stomach, along with a map of the area. With her wand up her sleeve and back pack hooked over her shoulder, she left out the door with a scratch on the head to her pets.
~000~000~000~
It was well after lunch and hours had gone by since she'd left the cottage, and in that time frame, she'd not only fallen over twice and muddied up her hands and jeans, she'd gotten lost. And after hours of trying to follow the map, she'd given up, stuffed it back into her back pack with an angry huff and then took her wand from her sleeve, muttering a Direction Charm that would take her to where she needed to be.
As she hiked through the woods, she'd removed her coat and put that into her back pack, too, the grey clouds having disappeared and being replaced by sun and it being a lot warmer that it had been earlier that morning.
She was growing tired and knew that if she didn't find the house soon, she was going to have to apparate back to the cottage and try again tomorrow, but she really didn't want to. She didn't want to drag it out any longer.
She tripped over some fallen twigs and stumbled into a tree, catching herself before she smacked head first into it. She grumbled to herself before pushing away and when she looked up, she caught sight of a break in the trees, a clearing.
Feeling hopeful she continued in her steps, only for a frown to pull at her face when the large house came into her view, only it wasn't what she was expecting. This house was clearly unoccupied and looked to have been burnt down at some point in the past. She could see parts of the house missing, parts of it charred black and the windows boarded up.
She moved closer until she was stood at the door and she brought her hand up to the handle, twisting it and seeing that it was open. The door swung open with a creak and she stepped inside, seeing that the staircase to the next floor was completely intact, but looked old, and she moved to the left, seeing that whilst no one had obviously been there in a while, there was still old furniture in the room. A dining table, a couch and a coffee table. She continued to explore the ground floor, not trusting the stairs and she saw that most of the damage had been done to the back of the house.
She couldn't even begin to imagine what had happened to the house and its occupants, but she didn't get a good feeling. The house, it felt sad and angry and painful. She wasn't even sure she wanted to know what happened. She wasn't sure how long she'd been there, but when she heard footsteps and the door closing, her heart jumped into her throat and fear flooded her.
She wasn't normally so worried, but now it wasn't just her, there was another life she had to protect and it was inside of her. Her hand automatically came to rest protectively against her stomach and the other gripped her wand tightly. Quietly, she peeked her head around the wall she was pressed against and seeing the shadow retreating in the opposite direction, she quickly darted around the corner, through the living room and towards the door, only she didn't make it.
She let out a scream of surprise and terror when someone stepped out in front of her and grabbed her arm, before it cut off when she noticed it was Derek Hale. She barely stopped herself from hexing him.
"Damn it, Derek! You scared the bloody hell out of me!" She snapped, her heart beating so fast and loud she could hear it and she took several deep breaths to calm herself.
She lifted her eyes to his, seeing that he was looking at her strangely; as if he knew her but couldn't place where he knew her from.
"Oh honestly, how many other British women have you met in the last few months?" She questioned, pulling her arm free of him and turning her back to him as she moved to sit on the stairs, slipping her wand back up her sleeve and out of sight.
"Hermione?" He questioned, sounding surprised.
"We got there in the end," she sighed, pushing a loose curl out of her face and behind her ear. She slipped off her back pack and placed it on the ground beside her feet and she crossed her arms over her lap.
"I didn't recognise you," he commented, seeming to relax a little more.
"Is that because of our one night stand and you have a shitty memory? Or is because of the way I'm dressed?"
"I've got a very good memory," he frowned slightly. "You just look different."
"I told you, it's not often I receive compliments on my appearance when I'm in my everyday clothes and not dolled up," she shrugged. "Especially when I'm clumsy as hell and I've fallen over several times," she said, gesturing to the muddy and dirty knees of her jeans.
"You're still beautiful," he replied. "Just more natural this way."
She raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. He moved to lean back against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. Hermione's memories of him hadn't done him justice. He was as handsome as she remembered him, and he wore blue jeans, white trainers and a grey t-shirt that moulded to his frame, and a black leather jacket completed the look.
"What are you doing here?" He asked.
"That's a long story," she sighed, pushing another curl back from her face and huffing in annoyance when it bounced right back into place, and his mouth pulled into an amused smile. "I was looking for you, and this is the last known address I was able to get for you."
"As you can see, I no longer live here and haven't for years, and I'm here because you tripped the alarm when you opened the door. How'd you find me?"
"I had some help from some colleagues. Despite knowing very little about you, it was enough to find a last known address. I can't tell you any more than that until I know I can trust you. I can get into a lot of trouble should I reveal anything else."
She knew he was curious and he took a step forward.
"Why were you looking for me?"
"This is going to be an awkward conversion," she muttered, dropping her face into her hands.
"Why?"
She sighed before lifting her head and her eyes locked on his before she took a breath and steeled herself for his reaction.
"Two reasons actually, and first is that I know who you are."
"Meaning?" He questioned with a raised eyebrow and he took another step towards her.
"Werewolf."
His entire body stiffened and his breathing stopped, his hands clenched into tight fists as his face suddenly became cold and emotionless, surprising her.
"Are you a hunter?"
The question took her by surprise and she blinked at him dumbly, before she burst out laughing, her laughter both annoying him and surprising him.
"Bloody hell, Derek, I've been called many things over the years, but never a hunter." She shook her head, her laughter dying down into chuckles. "No, I'm not a hunter." He eyed her distrustfully. "I'm not a hunter, you could say I'm the opposite, or I used to be before I transferred from London. My job back in Britain was to protect and maintain the identities of all supernatural beings such as yourself. My colleagues and I ensured that supernatural beings were kept hidden from regular human beings and that they were able to live their lives peacefully. We have a ninety-seven percent rate of success, unfortunately some break the rules we have in place for their safety and they harmed others, and therefore they lose our protection and they're found by hunters."
He blinked slowly, a thoughtful look crossing his face.
"I have no problem with those like you, I've known of your existence since a child and I've championed for the rights of those that are different. I was a pain in the arse as a child, even those that I wanted to help found me annoying," she said, a fond smile crossing her face as she remembered Remus and the house-elves. "And since I've known since a child and I've been around those like you since I was a child, I can spot a werewolf with my eyes closed. I admit, I didn't realise what you were until a few days after when all the information seemed to have settled into my brain."
"Information?" He asked, looking to once more relax when he realised she wasn't a danger to him.
"Your strength, your body temperature, I saw your eyes flash blue and you were careful to hide your eyes from me, and I know you were listening in to my conversation with the bartender, otherwise you wouldn't have known that I sent him away. Your growls were too much like an actual wolf's and you smell different."
"Excuse me?" He said with a raised eyebrow.
"I didn't say you smelt bad, just different," she rolled her eyes. "Underneath that cologne you wear, I can smell nature. Like trees and grass and flowers and fresh air," she shrugged. "Once I figured out you were a werewolf and I had your first name, it wasn't exactly hard to find you in the records."
"I'm in some system?" He frowned.
"Yes, all supernatural beings around the world are, so I know about Scott McCall and Lydia Martin, too, and they're known acquaintances of yours. It's mainly for your safety and so we have a general idea of where you are, if we need to send an agent out to make sure you're not in danger we need to have a general location for you and they'd track you to your current positioning, which is why I was given this address. We don't know your current residence of living. And they don't keep identification photographs either, which just makes things twice as difficult. Do you have any idea how many werewolves there are named Derek in America. Do you?" He shook his head. "One hundred and sixty-eight."
He looked surprised by the revelation before he shook his head. "Alright, you're not a hunter, but a protector of the supernatural, but what are you doing here? I can't imagine you going to the trouble of finding me just to tell me you know who I am."
"Which brings us to our second reason for my being here, and the hardest to tell you," she sighed.
"We don't have all day," he spoke, crossing his arms over his chest.
She opened her mouth to tell him, but she couldn't do it, the words just wouldn't leave her. She growled in annoyance and let her head fall forward until it pressed against her knees and she was hunched over herself. She heard his footsteps and then felt his presence as he crouched down in front of her.
"It can't be that bad."
"That depends on how you take the news," she replied, her voice muffled.
"Just tell me."
She sighed before lifting her head up and she opened her mouth to speak, only a wave of nausea suddenly washed over and she clamped a hand over her mouth and nose, hoping that by cutting off her sense of smell, the nausea would pass.
"What's that smell?" She grimaced, her voice muffled by her hand.
"Smell?"
"What are you wearing? It's coming from you."
He frowned. "The same cologne I wore when I met you, and you certainly didn't complain then."
"Well now it's disgusting."
He eyed her strangely as she slowly removed her hand from her face after feeling the nausea pass, but before she could sigh in relief, it came back tenfold and she wasn't going to be able to stop it.
She clamped a hand over her mouth once more and stood from the stairs, darting around his confused form and out of the house and over to a tree which she leaned against as she emptied the contents of her stomach on the ground.
She heard the leaves and twigs snapping beneath his weight as he approached her, but she stopped him from coming any further by holding out her hand.
"Please don't come any closer, the smell's knocking me sick," she groaned, before throwing up once more. She looked up from the ground and over her shoulder, seeing him shuffling on his feet awkwardly and looking at her confused. "Will you get me my back pack, please?" She asked.
He nodded and disappeared into the house, quickly returning with what she asked for. She opened it up and pulled out a bottle of water which she swilled her mouth with, she then pulled out some wet wipes and wiped her mouth and face, before pulling out a pack of mints and slipping a couple into her mouth. After putting everything back into her back pack, she covered the pile of sick with leaves and twigs, and then moved back over to the house, sitting on the small brick wall that surrounded it and he stood in front of her.
"What just happened?"
"I don't know why they call it morning sickness when it happens at any bloody time of the day," she grumbled.
"Morning sickness?" He questioned with a confused frown.
She lifted her gaze to his, and suddenly the pieces slipped into place. His eyes widened to the point she thought they might actually fall out of his head, his mouth dropped open and he stumbled back slightly before catching himself.
"You're pregnant?" He whispered.
"Yes, I'm pregnant."
He fell silent as his eyes moved to the ground, and she thought he'd fallen into a state of shock as he didn't speak or move for almost ten minutes, but she gave him time. She'd actually fainted when she'd learned the news, in comparison he was doing better than she had.
"How do you know it's mine?" He rushed out. She glared at him murderously and he winced. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that... just..."
"I'm one hundred percent positive that the baby I'm carrying is yours. I may have given off the impression that I'm trollop..."
"A what?" He cut her off.
"A whore, slut, slag, strumpet, whatever you want to call it, but I assure you I'm not."
"I didn't think that, I don't think that," he corrected quickly.
"I've slept with two men in my life, my previous boyfriend who I was with for almost five years, and now you. No one else. I'm nine weeks along to this day, which makes you the father." He ran his hands through his hair and started pacing. "This is why I found you, I thought it only right that I do everything in my power to find you and let you know that in eight months time you're going to have a child born into the world. Whether you want to be in their life is up to you, I can't force you either way and I'm not going to. You need to make that decision yourself. If you decide that you wish to be in our baby's life, then we'll figure this out together, if not, then I'll raise it by myself and I would never ask anything of you."
He stared at her, speechless.
"I know I've unloaded a lot on you, so I'll leave you alone so you can digest all of this and make your decision. When you're ready to talk, I'll listen." She picked up her back pack and threw it over her shoulder and stood from the wall. "So, I'll see you later."
She walked past him and off into the distance.
"Wait!" He called. She stopped in her steps and turned to face him. "How will I contact you?"
A smile pulled at her mouth. "I found you; it's your turn to find me."
"That'll be impossible," he frowned.
Her smile widened. "No it won't, you're a werewolf, use your sense of smell to find me. I won't be far away." She turned to leave but stopped once more. "By the way, you've taken the news remarkably well." He looked at her disbelievingly and she chuckled. "You have and certainly better than I did; I fainted," she shrugged her shoulders, before walking off and once she was clear of him, she pulled her wand, turned on her heel and apparated back to the cottage.