"Behind Closed Doors" By Kross
A/n: I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.
Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man
NOTE: I would like to lend credit to my friend Carly, who is assisting me in the concept for this story. She makes a wonderful brainstorming partner. Thank you Carly!
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Within moments, Hermione found herself in the hospital wing. Harry and Ron had rushed her there, muttering something about poison. And Draco. Hermione's mind was fairly fogged, but it was clear enough to remember what she had seen. Draco had his ring, and the ring on her finger had to belong to someone else. Someone much like Draco. Slytherin, powerful, and cold.
Madam Pompfrey forced a horrid tasting solution down her throat, which eased the growing headache she had. She felt a cool sensation wash over her body and the lingering smell of dead flesh dissipated. Hermione breathed out a comforting sigh, happy her lungs still worked.
"Now, now darling…" Madam Pompfrey began. "Take it slowly. I still need to run a few tests on you…It should only take a few moments. " She said, eying Hermione curiously. Hermione was nearly uncomfortable with the look she was given. It felt as though it pierced her, like Madam Pompfrey could see something that even she could not see in herself.
Hermione was made to breathe into an apparatus she had seen in muggle hospitals, despite this version being more complicated. Blood was drawn and Hermione was made to wait in the room while Madam Pompfrey went over every result. Madam Pompfrey must have had a very different idea of what the term "few" meant. Hermione began to drift off into sleep as she waited for more than one hour. She lent the delay to Neville and his daily injury, this time he'd been stung by an entire colony of bees.
As Madam Pompfrey tended to Neville's wounds, covering them with a blue-ish liquid that made them tingle and smell like cotton candy, Hermione began to wonder if she would ever discover who her secret lover was. She seemed to have exhausted all possible solutions, each having been proved wrong by chance or actual proof. Hermione even toyed with the notion that she may have merely dreamed the entire encounter up. Even if she wanted to believe it was a product of her boundless imagination, she knew deep down that it had really occurred. She could feel it in her bones. She could feel it deep inside her.
Hermione knew something was awry when Madam Pompfrey returned from her office.
The look on her face was off; she looked at Hermione almost delicately. When she sat down, in the chair next to Hermione, she took up Hermione's hand in hers. Hermione could feel her heart begin to pound in her chest and it felt as though all the blood in her body had rushed to her face. Hermione tried to focus her attention on Madam Pompfrey's gentle eyes, but instead found her eyes locked on the elderly woman's mouth.
"Miss Granger," she began, this term through Hermione off. She felt as though she were being lectured by her grandmother already. "Hermione," she corrected. "We're you aware of your…delicate position?" She asked slowly.
"Delicate position?" Hermione answered back. "What position is that?"
"Hermione, your blood tests indicate that you are…with child. Pregnant." She eased out the words, expecting a harsh response. Hermione did not speak, only her mouth hung open. She rubbed a hand over her face, pulling her skin down and trailing two of her fingers onto her lips. She closed her eyes, feeling the sting of tears welling up behind them.
"Pregnant?" She asked. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, Miss Granger. Three and a half weeks." A pause. "Now, we have to inform your parents. Would you like me to arrange a phone call? Or would you like to take care of it?"
"I…I…will tell them." Hermione whimpered. She hadn't thought about her parents. She knew her mother would be most harsh.
"I will inform the faculty about your position in order to assure that you will be placed in the proper conditions." She spoke with sympathy laced words. Madam Pompfrey's eyes reflected a tender sadness, yet the motherly look of love. "I promise to make this as easy on you as possible."
"I will keep the baby, Madam Pompfrey. Please don't look into adoption or…"She paused, feeling great pain in her heart. "…Or other options." She couldn't bear the idea of giving away her child or worse, ending its innocent life. She knew it would be tough, but she felt it was the best option.
Madam Pompfrey nodded, knowing that it wasn't the best timing to discuss other options. At this point, because Hermione was over the age of 17, it was Hermione's choice and she had to let that choice be Hermione's alone. "You can go and tell the father now," Madam Pompfrey said quietly.
Hermione was suddenly shocked once more. She had no father to tell. She didn't know who exactly he was. The fact that she was three and a half weeks pregnant eliminated the notion that Ron could have been the father. I had only been a few nights since the first time they had slept together. Additionally, it had been nearly four months since Hermione and Harry had last had sex. There was only one person left to have impregnated her, her secret lover.
On the way back to the common room, with a degree more of carefulness than she would normally use, Hermione decided it would be best to tell Ron. She would let him assume that he was the father. It would, in the long run, be best for all three of them, she reasoned. All three of them, she thought in awe. Despite the massive changes in her life this pregnancy would cause, Hermione found herself delighted by the news. She could only hope that Ron would share in her good spirits.
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Please Review. We're getting so close! I can feel the tension growing. Originally I intended this story to have about 5 chapters. Recently I decided on about ten. As of the brainstorming session tonight with Carly, it looks like it will be close to twenty chapters. I won't keep you waiting for the identity that long, though.
Meg/Kross