Chapter 16: Accusation

"Your hair looks nice like that," Harry said over breakfast, giving Hermione's head a critical look. "Sort of... fluffy."

"It does look nice," Ginny said, leaning back to see the bun from behind. "You should wear your hair up more often."

"I plan to," Hermione said, reaching for the jam. She'd worn it up for the first few lessons with Professor Snape, to boost her confidence a little, and it had been so nice to have it away from her face that she'd decided to make it a regular thing. And if Harry had actually noticed it, it must definitely be an improvement. "It gets in the way so much when it's loose."

"It does a bit, doesn't it?" Ginny pulled a strand of her long hair forward and looked at it critically, as the post owls swept into the great hall. "Maybe I should do something with mine."

"Yours looks a lot better down than mine di- what on earth?" Someone had actually screamed at the Hufflepuff table, just a little. A girl Hermione didn't know - fourth or fifth year, from the look of her - was clutching the Daily Prophet and whimpering.

The post owl had just dropped Hermione's regular copy in front of her, and she grabbed it, unrolling it hastily. A huge headline was splashed across the front page.

The Heir Of Voldemort?

Is the war really over?

By Rita Skeeter

The wizarding world breathed a sigh of relief when He Who Must Not Be Named was finally struck down forever by the Boy Who Lived. Safe again at last... or so we thought! Frightening new information has come to light to indicate that while he may be gone for now, the Dark Lord has once again found a way to cheat death. At Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, one of Harry Potter's closest friends has come under suspicion.

"We all know something's up," said a student who asked not to be named, out of fear for her own safety. "Just the fact that she's still pregnant is a bad sign - Hermione Granger would never risk her N.E.W.T.s by having a baby at the same time if everything was normal."

Yes, Hermione Granger is pregnant - and according to confidential information received by this reporter, she conceived at the very time of the Final Battle. Her status as a war heroine has caused the Headmistress of Hogwarts to bend the usual rules about pregnancy at school and allow her to remain to finish her N.E.W.T.s. However, even the Headmistress has no idea who the father of the child really is - Miss Granger has steadfastly refused to name him, claiming that he 'didn't want to be involved'.

"We all assumed it was Ron Weasley at first... they were together at the time," said another student. "But there's no way it could have been him - he's accounted for right up until they ended things right after the war. And she's being really secretive about it... even her best friends don't know who it really was. She's acting like it's this huge secret, and she wouldn't do that unless she was really ashamed of it. I think maybe it was someone on the Other Side, if you know what I mean."

Someone on the Other Side does indeed seem the likeliest option, and we must all remember the safeguards upon safeguards You Know Who placed on his life. This reporter can only hope that someone, somewhere, sees fit to investigate this mysterious, oddly-timed pregnancy, before it's too late.

Hermione dropped the paper, her hands shaking. "That vicious, lying hag," she whispered, her voice oddly wobbly. She could hear the rising murmurs all around her, could feel people staring at her and then looking hastily away. She looked up at the teachers' table, folding her hands in what was left of her lap to keep them from trembling. They were all reading the Daily Prophet, looking angry and shocked; Professor McGonagall looked down at her and shook her head, mouthing 'preposterous!'. Further along the table... oh, God, he'd seen it.

He looked up too, his eyes searching her out with an alarmed expression. He opened his mouth, and she shook her head fractionally. No, don't say anything, no, don't believe it, no, don't get involved! He would get into terrible trouble if anyone found out now, if they learned he'd been teaching (and giving private lessons to!) a student he'd slept with. She would think of something, find a way out of this that wouldn't involve him.

"Oh, Merlin..." Ginny whispered, her hands clamped to her mouth in horror. "Oh, Hermione... how can she say something like that..."

"Because she hates Hermione," Harry said savagely. "She's hated her ever since our fourth year, because Hermione beat her. Made her do as she was told. Nobody's going to believe this, Hermione, you would never do something like this..."

"It was the Slytherins - it must have been!" Ron scowled across at the Slytherin table. "They were the ones talking to her last time. They know about her!"

"I need to get out of here," Hermione said, pulling herself to her feet. The murmurs around her got louder. "I can't... everyone's staring at me."

The others jumped to their feet, glaring around protectively. "Of course, Hermione, we'll come with..."

Ginny's voice faded into a buzz as Hermione took one step and fainted dead away.

"... it was just the shock," Poppy Pomfrey was saying crossly when Severus slipped into the infirmary. McGonagall had rushed to the hospital wing with her unconscious favourite, but the Heads of House had remained behind to calm their students and order them off to class. He would not swear to Slytherin being calm, as such, but they did realise their Head of House was exceptionally angry and would vent that anger on the first person to so much as squeak without permission. A furious glare and a snarl of 'get to class' had sent them scurrying off without a murmur.

He'd headed for the hospital wing at once. He did not, of course, trust Lupin to handle it if the girl had been cursed again, and clearly it was his duty to check. Hearing Poppy's assertion made something in his chest unclench, and he watched from the shadows of the doorway as Poppy fussed over her patient. The Headmistress was still there, and the rest of the Gryffindor Quartet had yet to be shooed away.

"This is the second time she's fainted," Ginny Weasley said, looking worried. "She did it when Mr Filch was poisoned, too. Not until after she'd given him the bezoar, but both times she did it as soon as she stood up."

"And I feel very silly," Hermione said weakly, opening her eyes and looking at the small crowd around her. "Like a stupid heroine in one of Lavender's romance novels, always swooning whenever something happens."

"Next time you get a sudden shock, don't stand up," Poppy said sternly. "Stay sitting and... well, you probably can't get your head between your knees anymore, but bend forward as much as you can."

"Yes, Poppy," she said meekly, as the nurse helped her sit up. "I just... had to get away." Her lip quivered, and Severus scowled. Whoever the Unnamed Students were, they were going to be made to suffer as horribly as any student could without incurring the wrath of the Board. Slytherins or not.

"Hermione, nobody's going to believe this," Weasley said, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her and slipping an arm around her shoulders. "I mean, the whole thing's just ridiculous."

Hermione sniffed. "Ron, lots of people are going to believe it because, as previously demonstrated by the fact that they believed all the stupid things Rita wrote about Harry, the majority of the readership of the Daily Prophet are stupider than Flobberworms and would believe that the moon was constructed entirely of Brie cheese and Ice Mice if they saw it written down!"

She was absolutely right, and Severus smirked a little. Clever girl - comforting lies only weakened you and left you unprepared for the next attack.

"What's going to happen?" Potter asked McGonagall. "I mean, this is a bit more serious than accusing me of being a mad attention-seeker."

"The Board of Governors will almost certainly do something foolish and short-sighted. They generally do." McGonagall looked as if she'd just bitten into a lemon; an expression Snape remembered from his own school days that did not bode well for the next person to cross her. "Miss Granger, it would probably be best if you did not attend your classes today. If you would like your friends to stay with you - "

"No. Thank you," Hermione said firmly. "Believe me, I've seen them in a small room in a tense situation. It's like sitting in a tiger-cage right before feeding time, all pacing and snarling."

Severus chuckled very, very quietly. Potter and Weasley both looked deeply embarrassed, and Ginny Weasley was clearly trying not to giggle. "Hermione, we're not that bad," Potter said, but without any real conviction. "I mean, we wouldn't be if you didn't want us to be."

She sniffed, and gave him a wobbly smile. "It's all right. I'd rather you were out there telling people how stupid it is, really. If we're all holed up in my room, it's going to look as if we're hiding something."

"Yeah, good point," Potter said, surprising Severus with the admission - perhaps he had finally developed some rudimentary grasp of tactics. "We'll make sure everyone knows it's a filthy lie." He paused. "Of course, if you wanted to tell us who - "

"No," Hermione said flatly. "I have my reasons, Harry."

"I'm just saying, now would be a good time." Potter shrugged. "People are going to find out eventually, Hermione. You can't keep something like this a secret forever."

"Watch me." She sniffed disapprovingly and slid off the bed. "Right. While you're defending my honour, I'm going to spend the day recovering from the Dreadful Shock in my room." She managed a reasonable approximation of a grin and directed it at Poppy. "I ought to, don't you think? Given my delicate condition and all."

"Oh, quite," Poppy agreed, smirking a little. "Have Dilly bring you anything you need, and spend the day resting... and studying, I suppose, but you're to lie down for at least part of the day."

"I will." Hermione nodded, and Severus slipped away. He had no class to teach for the first period of the day, and now he knew she would shortly be alone and available for a private consultation.

He consulted with a couple of portraits - Eugenie and an elderly knight from the corridor that led towards the Slytherin common room - and was not particularly surprised to discover that the Slytherins had been smirking and giggling even before the paper had arrived. Pansy was, if not the culprit, certainly involved somehow; Eugenie had heard her mention 'Rita' at least once.

When he judged that sufficient time had passed, he headed for the third-floor room Hermione had been given, armed with the latest written-work requirement for his N.E.W.T. class just in case someone saw him there, and he needed an excuse. He rapped on the door, and when it popped open, he looked down at Dilly. He knew the house-elf by sight - she regularly assisted Madam Pomfrey with patients who needed constant supervision. "I wish to speak to Miss Granger," he said, holding up his roll of parchment. "Since she is to spend the day in quiet study, I have brought her something to work on."

"Come in, Professor Snape," Dilly said brightly, stepping back and waving him through. "Can Dilly bring anything for Professor Snape? Tea?"

"No."

Hermione had, for a wonder, obeyed Poppy Pomfrey's orders and was lying down, propped up with several pillows and holding a book. Her eyes were red, he noticed, and she looked miserable. Her cat was curled up beside her - the creature opened an eye, examined Snape for a moment, and then went back to sleep.

"I wish to speak to Miss Granger, Dilly. Go."

Dilly promptly vanished, and Hermione frowned at him. "You shouldn't be so rude to her," she said reproachfully. "Just because she's a house-elf - "

"Is no reason for me to accord her greater politeness than I do anyone else," he said, dropping the roll of parchment on her bedside table. "I am rude to everyone."

She actually giggled a little at that. "Yes, well, that is a good point," she said, hitching herself up a little and looking up at him. "Thank you for bringing that... I don't have any homework that needs doing, just now, and I need to do something to... well. Take my mind off things."

He nodded. "I suspected as much." This was far more awkward than he had expected. She was so clearly distressed and yet trying to pretend that all was well. "Miss Granger, under the circumstances... as reluctant as I am to admit it... Potter may actually be right. It may be necessary for you to acknowledge your child's paternity." He watched her face closely, and to his surprise that suggestion didn't draw forth even a hint of horror or reluctance. "I will not hold you to your promise of secrecy. If the alternative is to have the child born under such suspicions..."

Her lip trembled, but she didn't cry, for which he was grateful. He was accustomed to weeping students, but Hermione was something else entirely, and he had no idea what he would do if she started to cry. "Thank you," she said softly, her hand dropping to cup her stomach gently. "That is - given how public opinion and most of the Order would react, no matter what I said in your defence - beyond generous. But I wouldn't do that to you." She managed a lopsided little smile. "I'm not nimble enough to throw myself between you and Harry at the moment, and he'd have a fit. Several fits, probably."

"Even so," Severus said, his eyes drawn to her hand. It was a peculiarly affectionate gesture. "I would not condemn any child to live under such suspicion."

"He won't," Hermione said firmly. "Or she. I don't know yet." She looked down at her bulge with a tender expression. "I meant what I said when I told you," she said quietly, not looking at him. "If you want to be a part of his life, then you have every right to, and you're welcome to. But I won't make things harder for you just because I... did what I did. I'll manage."

"Very well." He hadn't really believed her when she'd said it the first time. He knew her better now. She really would let him be 'part of his life', if he chose. The thought was almost pleasant, and he pushed it away firmly. Draco would care for them both, if she let him, and Draco could be charming when he chose. "Still. If it becomes necessary to name the child's father, either privately or publicly, you may do so."

"Thank you." She stroked a spot on the side of her stomach, smiling a little. Glancing up, she saw him watching her hand and smiled a little. "He's kicking. I'm usually moving around a lot more at this time of day... I think he's wondering why everything's so quiet."

Severus found himself drawing closer to the bed, watching her hand. "He is aware of your movements?"

"Oh, yes. I'm just over twenty-nine weeks now. If he was born now, he'd have a good chance of surviving." Hermione beamed proudly. "He can control his own breathing and has some basic temperature control. He's been able to hear my voice for a while... now he can see, taste, and even smell, although there's probably not a lot to smell in there. He spends a lot of time sleeping, and he can even dream. And he kicks." She winced, grinning ruefully. "He kicks a lot and increasingly hard."

"I... see." He'd had no idea babies were so active before birth. And how did anyone know that they could smell things?

She bit her lip. "Uhm... feel free to say no, but... would you like to feel him kick?" she offered tentatively.

She didn't know he'd already felt it. He remembered that strange, faint bumping sensation with almost painful clarity. Their child, alive and moving... "I suppose so," he said ungraciously, trying not to reach too eagerly towards her.

She took his hand - hers were small and soft and warm - and pressed it gently against the side of her bulge. "Here. He's been moving around here... there, do you feel it?"

He felt it. Stronger than the last time, bumping authoritatively against his palm as her soft fingers pressed against the back of his hand. "I feel it. An odd sensation." He drew his hand back, his face settling automatically into an impassive mask. He felt... he didn't know what he felt. He had no name for the intense, painful emotion that tightened his throat and knotted his stomach, and he liked it not at all. It would have to be dealt with. "I must go and prepare for my next class. There's no hurry for the work I gave you... given accusations of consorting with He Who Must Not Be Named, I think even I can forgive you a little lateness in your homework."

She responded, and he said what was suitable, and in a surprisingly short period of time he was in his office, watching his hands shake. Akilah came and rubbed against them, nosing his fingers gently, and he buried them in her fur until the trembling stopped.

Hermione spent most of the day curled up with Crookshanks, who purred lovingly and ignored the inexplicable bumping that made lying across her stomach less comfortable than usual, these days. "You like him, don't you?" Hermione murmured, stroking the fluffy orange fur. "Professor Snape, I mean. You don't usually let strange men into my bedroom without challenging them, let alone let them touch me."

Crooks purred, nuzzling his face into her armpit, and she smiled a little. "I like him too," she whispered sadly. "And we have to take extra-specially good care of the baby, because it's his too, all right?"

"Why is Miss not wanting to tell people so?"

Hermione shrieked, sitting bolt upright as Crookshanks hissed and scrambled for safety. She had long suspected that house-elves didn't always make noise when they appeared, and now she was sure. "Dilly! I'm not... I don't..."

"All the house-elves is already knowing, of course," Dilly said placidly. "We is hearing everything that goes on in the castle, sooner or later. We is wondering why Professor Snape and Miss don't settle down."

Hermione stared at her, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly. "Ahh..." she managed after a long moment.

"We is not telling anyone, not even the Headmistress. We is respecting Professor Snape's secrets," Dilly said seriously. "But we is not knowing why it is so secret."

"Because he would get into terrible trouble if anyone knew," Hermione said seriously. "I'm sure you all know how Harry feels about Professor Snape, and some of the other members of the Order are even worse. They might hurt him if they knew that we'd... uh..." She blushed.

Dilly nodded slowly. "Miss should not let her friends behave that way," she said, giving Hermione a reproving look. "But house-elves will make no trouble for Professor Snape. He is had suffering enough. We know."

"Yes, I suppose you would," Hermione said quietly. "Please don't let him know that you know... or anyone else. It's best for everyone if nobody ever finds out, it really is."

"What about the baby? He will be wanting to know his father," Dilly said, gazing at Hermione's stomach with the same doting expression Dobby gave Harry.

"I'll deal with that when it happens. For now... please don't say anything. To anyone, even the Headmistress. Please?"

"We will say nothing. But Miss should consider," Dilly said seriously. Then there was a knock on the door, and she ran to answer it. "Welcome, Headmistress!"

"Thank you, Dilly." Professor McGonagall looked tired and upset, pulling off her hat and rubbing her forehead wearily. "Miss Granger, I'm afraid my prediction was accurate... the Board of Governors has convened and have informed me that they will be here tomorrow or the next day to 'investigate the alarming allegations', as they put it. They will want to question you."

"Oh." Hermione bit her lip. "Uhm... Dilly, some tea, please?"

"Of course, Miss." Dilly vanished.

Hermione hauled herself off the bed and onto her feet, tugging her robes straight. "Well. I'm not going to tell them who the baby's father is, but other than that, I don't have anything to hide. It certainly wasn't Voldemort."

"Of course not." Professor McGonagall gave her a smile that was probably meant to be encouraging. "But they may employ Veritaserum, and that will not, I'm afraid, give you much choice about what you say."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest and then closed it again. They could do that, she had nobody to tell on them to if they did, and they certainly wouldn't care that it wasn't fair. She scowled. "I am not letting them push me around," she said, clasping her hands across her stomach. "We need a plan."