Chapter Four: Victim of the game

(February 7th) For the sake of my fanfic, I'm saying that Harry got the Felix Felicis potion in February. So pretend that he did please?

Hermione had awoken yet again to nausea and vomiting that morning, and she felt completely miserable setting in potions class. Harry and Ron were beside her, listening intently as Professor Slughorn outlined the Euphoria Elixir. She was hardly paying attention and was quite surprised when Harry tapped her on her arm to tell her that they were going to start the potion. She shook her head to clear her mind and sighed as she walked over to the cauldron assigned to her. Ron had already began- and messed up his potion. He was working furiously to right the problem as Slughorn tried to assist him. Harry, she noticed, had made excellent progress. Of course he had his cheat-book. It irked Hermione terribly that she worked her arse off in class to get top marks, and Harry cheated. What more, he found no guilt in it. She sighed and concentrated on her potion, putting in the right ingredients at the right times and stirring them the right way. In no time at all, she had a slightly pale yellow potion to show for her effort. Harry's was a brilliant sun- yellow, Ron's was blue. Hermione shook her head and smiled a little. Poor Ron. Suddenly Hermione had an idea. The professor would be giving a bit of the Felix Felicis potion away. She'd heard the pervious class talking about it. If course he'd probably give it to Harry. He favored Harry- that irked Hermione. Many things bothered her these days, she fully blamed her pregnancy. She was two months along and miserable. She'd snap at anyone for anything, then be apologizing and begging forgiveness the next second. Oh, look at her, losing her thoughts! Hermione chided herself then cautiously picked up an empty vial. She quietly walked over to the golden potion and filled up her small vial full with it. She quickly capped it and hid it in her robes. Of course everyone was too busy with their potions to notice her act. She wanted it come time for her birth, she would need all the luck she could get. Later, when Slughorn handed Harry his precious vial of gold, Hermione smiled mysteriously. Harry was not the only one with luck today.

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(February 16th)

"Hermione, are you okay?" Ron Weasley asked her as they sat down in the great hall for breakfast a little over a week later. She'd been acting plain strange lately. He'd sworn he'd seen her stuffing something in her robes in potions the other day and he could tell she wasn't feeling well. He'd been worried about her.

"Oh yes, I'm fine, why?" I just have a bloody baby inside of me. Everything's spiffy.

"You seem sick or something. I've been worried," Ron told her, his blue eyes filled with concern. Hermione sighed and brought her attention to focus. She'd been snapping at him far too much lately. It was very sweet for Ron to be concerned with her.

"I'm fine, I promise. Probably just overworking, that's all," she told him. Ron eyed her questioningly but relented. He didn't believe her excuse, but he wasn't going to argue with her about it.

"Alright, but tell me if anything's bothering you. You can always talk to me, okay?"

"Yes Ron, I will." Hermione said, smiling a little. Ron was about to say more when the hall's tables filled with breakfast. Of course, being male, and Ronald Weasley, the sight of food stopped him. Hermione suppressed a chuckle and eyed the food herself. She was awfully hungry. Hadn't she just eaten a huge late night snack the night before though? She hardly ever ate breakfast. But right now she felt ravenous. Hermione grabbed a plate and heaped it with any food that looked appealing to her. Pancakes, of course. She had always loved a good buttery pancake. Then she added two strawberry waffles, a nice helping of hash browns, a couple sausage patties, three poppy seed muffins, and a bit of biscuits and gravy. Ron and Harry watched her as she added to her already mountainous plate and started at her in awe.

"Hermione I thought you didn't like poppy seed muffins," Harry said, eying the three she'd picked and put in her plate. Hermione looked at them for a moment in puzzlement. True, she never had liked them much. But for some reason she was really craving them today.

"Well I think I should be a little open minded about them. Their not so bad," she replied, taking the opportunity to actually stuff one in her mouth. The delicious slightly lemon muffin dissolved in her mouth sweetly. She sighed and reached for a sausage patty. Ron outright laughed and shook his head as he helped himself to some toast and jam. Hermione really didn't eat enough as she should, so he supposed this was her making up for all the past light meals she'd had.

"What are you laughing at?" Hermione asked him, horrified. Ron smiled and shook his head again.

"Nothing, you're just eating a lot, that's all. I think it's good for you. You've been looking a little pale anyways lately," he told her. At this Hermione's face turned red and her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Ronald Weasley, are you calling me fat?" she asked icily.

Ron hastily shook his head, "No Mione, you're not fat, I was just-" he began.

"You were calling me fat is what you were doing! I can't believe you. Can't I eat a meal in peace around here? Merlin! I've got better things to do then set here and listen to myself being made fun of," Hermione shouted, picking up her plate and walking out of the great hall in an angry huff. Several people had watched her display and were looking curiously at Ron and Harry. Harry was laughing so hard he had to clutch his stomach. Ron however was quiet and watched Hermione's retreating back. What the heck was that for? He hadn't meant a thing by his comment and she knew it. Whatever was with Hermione all of a sudden, he didn't like it one bit.

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Hermione sighed in frustration as she walked out of the girls dorm. She'd wasted far too much time eating her enormous breakfast and had forgotten that her appointment at Helena's Home. It was a haven and hospital for pregnant girls in various situations. Or so said the pamphlet she'd received in the mail after owling them two days before. Her appointment was at ten, and it was already nine forty five! Hermione chided herself and hurriedly grabbed a handful of floo powder from her small case of it (she always had a bit around for emergency's) and quickly threw it into the fireplace in the common room.

"To Helena's Home!" she shouted into the flames. In no time at all she was transported to a very nicely furnished waiting room. Hermione coughed and fought down another bit of nausea. Her head was spinning painfully and her stomach fighting against her willpower to retch. After waiting a minute and letting herself calm down, she looked around her. She was indeed in a waiting room, as she'd first perceived. There were several comfy looking couches as well as a table full of magazines. The walls were plastered with images of children and images of fetus's at their different stages. Interested, Hermione peered closer. Suddenly there was a tap on her shoulder and she jumped back in fright. Standing behind her was a slightly over weight, blonde middle aged witch. She was wearing what appeared to be official blue hospital gowns and was smiling at Hermione.

"Miss Granger?" she asked pleasantly. Hermione nodded her head, wondering how this woman knew her name.

"I am Laddie Fishes, it's very nice to meet you Miss Granger. And what a lovely name you have! If it weren't for the dear man I married to get my surname, I would be properly ashamed of mine. But your's is lovely. You are perfectly on time for your appointment. Would you like to stay here a while or would you like to go ahead and get on with your examination?" Laddie asked, her clipboard positioned at her hip. Hermione smiled warmly, she liked this woman very much.

"I think now would be fine." she told her. Laddie led her to a very small and nice looking room and asked her to please set on the examination table.

"Now, I'm sure you've never done this before, so all of this might seem like a bit much for you. Do you have any questions to begin with?" She asked. Hermione said she really didn't, but would like to go ahead and start so she could return to school. Laddie smiled and pulled her clipboard in front of her.

"Aright. Lets see, I have to start with a few questions first. Are you sure that you are pregnant?"

"Yes,"

"Good, what did you do to determine this?"

"I performed a pregnancy potion myself," Hermione told her, slightly ashamed. She knew she should have gone to a medical facility to find out, but she didn't want the embarrassment. Laddie seemed to understand, she didn't press her at all. Hermione didn't know that this woman had seen far worse negligence from soon to be mothers.

"Okay, now these questions are a bit embarrassing. But don't worry, whatever goes on here is confidential. Were you raped, or did you willingly commit to sexual intercourse?"

"I was willing, unfortunately,"

"No, that's not unfortunate. You have no idea the number of rape victims we get. You're very lucky that your child w conceived willingly and not against your will. But anyways, how many times did you have sexual intercourse?"

"I suppose it was five times, counting the first,"

"Did you use protection?"

"No, I didn't even think about it before hand,"

"A lot of people don't, but you definitely should have. I'll be giving you a pamphlet on contraceptives when you leave. Have you been with more than one partner?"

"No, just him,"

"That's good, takes care of the whole 'who is the father' issue. So I assume you know who the father is?"

"Yes,"

"Would you like that information to remain confidential or would you like to reveal who he is?"

"Confidential please,"

"That's fine. I do suggest that you inform him though. Some father's want joint custody, or want a say in what happens to their child. Any history of genetic disorders in your family? His?"

"No, definitely not in mine. And I am fairly sure not in his either,"

"Good. This next question is very important, but hard sometimes for girls to answer. Have you ever been sexually or physically abused? And if so, was it by your partner?"

"Oh no, never. He was kind to me, when we were together,"

"I really don't like asking that question, but the hospital has to know in case there's a chance the baby might be harmed. Do you know how far along you are?"

"Yes, about eleven weeks. She was conceived on the first of December,"

"You must be having trouble with morning sickness then?"

"Yes, every morning I wake up to it,"

"That's as bad as it gets, besides the actual birth. It'll fade in a month or so. I can send you some pills with you when you leave that might help though. Now, I have to ask, any STDs?"

"No,"

"Him?"

"I don't think so. But I don't know for sure. I wasn't his only…" Hermione couldn't finish without beginning to cry. This was all so much for her. Laddie saw her tears and looked at her softly.

"It is not easy to be a single mother. Especially if the father of your child isn't a part of your life any longer. If you ever need any advice, please be sure to contact me," Laddie told her, tearing off a piece of paper and writing her address on it. "As for your questions, I only have one more. What are you going to do with the child?"

Hermione thought about this question, as she had every night since she became pregnant, "I think I will give her up for adoption. I am too young to be a suitable mother, and with no father…I don't think it would work. She is better off with people who can care for her."

"That's a good choice. Many teenage mothers choose that. Well Hermione, it looks like we're done here. Come back in a week and we'll do a proper physical examination. Until then please fill out these questions and owl them to the institution. And good luck!" The woman told her, smiling. She then left the room, having to attend to another patient. Hermione watched her go, feeling much better than when she had come. She grabbed the questionnaire as well as the pamphlets that Laddie left for her. Then used the floo powder to get back to Hogwarts. Back to school, back to her pretend life.

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"You know it's really gettin' to you

When you take to tellin' lies

And you can try to fool your friends

But you can't look 'em in the eyes

There ain't no standin' tall

In the shadow of the shame

When everybody knows

That you're a victim of the game"

-Garth Brooks Lyrics