Theretofore on GG:
"You did it in the death house? Ugh, I think I'm going to lose my chicken chow mein."
"Shut your gob; I think it's romantic, if creepily so. I won't be able to see a casket now without thinking about it."
"Oh, and that's a wonderful memento, I would agree," Faye noted sarcastically and Hermione sighed, shaking her head.
"You'd have to feel it, Faye. You couldn't possibly understand."
"Hey," she scolded, pointing a finger. "I told you once he's not my type." With a disgusted moan, she placed a hand over her stomach. "And I've never been more sure."
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Chapter 7: Tokens of Love
"Hermione," Draco whispered, sounding irritated, but his voice melded quickly into concern. "Tell me what's wrong." Hermione shook her head, dabbing her eyes with the crumpled handkerchief she had stolen from his pocket.
"Nothing, Draco; it's the movie," she insisted, chin trembling as she gestured toward the large white screen. Draco looked utterly confused.
"It's an action film!" he stated, raising his voice slightly, and was answered with an unappreciative 'shh' from the sparse crowd which dotted the theater. He slumped down into his seat, looking not at all happy to be impeded. Hermione linked her arms around one of his, her tears falling onto his shoulder, and continued to watch the silver screen.
"Oh," she cried in whisper, sniffling and holding her handkerchief to her running nose. "This is my favorite part!"
"Really? Well, what are you going to do now, then? You've wasted ninety percent of your body's stored liquid on the first two hours; what's left for the climax? Are you going to literally dissolve into a puddle?" Draco asked, slightly annoyed, and Hermione pinched him, ignoring his comments. Rolling his eyes, Draco shifted to allow her access to his chest, which she gladly settled into, and occupied the last twenty minutes of the extravagantly explosive film by playing with her hair and marking random kisses.
Hermione had calmed down in time to see the credits start to roll and Draco felt decidedly less uneasy. He led her into the nearly deserted lobby of the theater, convinced by the large smile on her face that it really somehow was the movie that had started her uncharacteristic waterworks.
"I'm surprised you don't cry during Quidditch," he said offhandedly, and Hermione poked him in the ribs while she laughed.
"Shh; it's a muggle theater," she reminded in whisper, but Draco merely shrugged, brushing it off as nothing. Hermione shook her head at him and placed a kiss near his jawbone. "I'm going to make a quick trip to the loo before we go. You don't mind, do you?" Draco chuckled and shook his head, pushing her toward the bathroom. Hermione smiled over her shoulder at him as she entered, leaving Draco alone in the quiet foyer. With nothing to do and no one to watch, he quickly found himself bored. She was taking a very feminine amount of time and Draco grew easily jaded. With a soft sigh, he leaned against the wall near the ladies room and waited patiently for his Hermione to return.
Before she could, however, Draco's curiosity was peeked by an unidentifiable sound. When it happened again, he could easily classify it as someone suffering from a quite violent bout of sickness and Draco immediately assumed it was Hermione. There was little chance any other women were rooming with her; at midmorning on a Wednesday, the theater was nearly empty.
Draco was torn. He was itching to break the gender barrier and become her knight in shining armor, but there was something about entering a women's restroom that pricked at his conscience. Draco pressed an ear to the wood of the door and could easily hear that she was crying again. Void of conscious thought, he pushed through the entrance and dropped to the floor, scanning the stalls for sign of any damsel in distress. Hermione was crumpled to the ground in cubicle number three, sobbing now that her stomach had given her a moment's ease. Draco's feet drove him directly to her side and he knocked lightly on the plastic of the door.
"Hermione? Let me in," he said, sounding very concerned, and could hear Hermione's surprise as she attempted to compose herself and flushed away her mess. Without standing, she reached and slid the lock back out of place, allowing him entry. Draco opened the door and dropped to his knees to be level with her, placing one hand on her back and using the other to wipe away some straying tears.
"Draco," she hissed softly, "You're not supposed to be in here." Draco laughed mildly and kissed her forehead.
"I know; I couldn't help it," he admitted and his face grew slightly dim. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick? I would have taken you home." Hermione shook her head, falling victim to a sob.
"I wasn't; I'm not. I feel perfectly fine, I don't know what's wrong with me. This is definitely the oddest flu I've ever had," she joked, laughing once through her tears. Draco sighed.
"Don't cry, love. It's not that bad; you'll be all right," he said comfortingly, but Hermione shook her head, wiping at her dampened cheeks.
"I can't help it. I'm trying, but I don't know what's wrong, so I don't know how to make myself feel better," she explained, pressing her palms to her eyelids. Draco sighed, feeling useless and inadequate. As he searched futilely for something to say, Hermione slowly calmed, controlling her breathing. Draco looked up, hoping she would retain no further discomfort and Hermione paused for a moment, fingers pressed lightly over her lips as she stared at a spot on the wall. Time seemed to stand fleetingly still, until she spun with a sudden burst of energy and vomited ferociously into the porcelain basin.
-x- -x- -x-
"Hermione, are you gaining weight?"
Hermione stopped in her tracks, causing the shopping cart to screech softly as it came to a halt. She turned to Marin, who was standing idly by, eyes locked on the lobster tank near the deli.
"Well, that was a little tactless, wouldn't you say?" she asked with a smile permanently planted her face. Marin blushed and turned away from the lobsters.
"Sorry," she said and Hermione laughed, beginning again to push the cart. "It's not bad, you know. Just an observation; in my opinion, you could use it." Knitting her brows, Hermione looked down at herself.
"I did think my jeans were a little snug this morning," she admitted, turning to look down her side. "Is it really that noticeable? Draco hasn't said anything."
"Well of course he hasn't," Marin chided. "You picked yourself a good grape, Manny. Draco's much too nice to say anything even if he did notice it, and he loves you too much to notice your stomach." Hermione sighed.
"Well, go down that aisle and get me some lite yogurt instead," she said, handing Marin the tub of pineapple yogurt which had occupied a first class seat in her cart.
"Manny..." the girl warned, "It's nothing to worry about."
"You, my dear, are much too young to understand. You have to be careful with matters of the masses when you grow to be my age. At first you won't mind, might even enjoy it, and before you know it you've gained twenty pounds and have to spend your car insurance money on a new wardrobe."
"You don't even have a car."
"Just be a good girl and fetch me what I asked you?" Hermione asked condescendingly, as if speaking to a child, and Marin rolled her eyes.
"Classy, Man. Really classy."
"Now, let's see..." Hermione mumbled as her student made the requested trip to the refrigerated section. When Marin returned and replaced the yogurt, Hermione smiled at her. "What do you think of beef for dinner?" Marin shrugged.
"Why are you asking me?"
"Well, you're to be eating, aren't you? You must; I won't allow you to decline this time, love. I've already promised Draco, and you know how much he adores you," Hermione insisted, smiling archly, and Marin smirked in return.
"Oh, I know. You realize he only likes me because I let him win at checkers, don't you?" she stated and Hermione laughed.
"What? You let him?"
"Well of course I did; you were bragging so much about your winning streak that I felt sorry for the poor bloke. No man likes to be beaten by a woman. I'm almost fifteen; he'd be emotionally scarred if I crushed him too," Marin explained, eyeing her mentor as if she thought her motives obvious.
"That reminds me," Hermione stated, changing the subject. "Your birthday's coming up."
"Please, let's not have this conversation again," Marin groaned, gaining a chuckle from her unorthodox sister. "It's the same thing every year. You ask what I want, I tell you not to get me anything, and you end up buying me something completely extravagant which I then feel obligated to refuse, but you always insist and I end up keeping it anyway. For the sake of time needed to cook this beef we plan to have for dinner, let's just pretend all that already happened?"
"Well, aren't you just a witty one today?" Hermione asked sarcastically, mussing the hair atop Marin's head. She glared halfheartedly, fixing her locks and pulling a hood to cover them. "Ohh," Hermione said in awe as she scanned the dressing aisle with her gaze. "What about Ranch dressing? Oh, or Thousand Island? Something different. What do you think?" Marin's face contorted in disgust.
"I think you better make that optional."
"Oh, sucks to you," Hermione jested, waving a finger in the raven haired girl's face. "You've just no taste, is all. I'm sure Draco will love it." Marin held up her hands in defense.
"Fine, do whatever you want; let's just stop at the drugstore for some antacid tablets on our way back."
"Ha, ha," Hermione tutted, and the banter died at her sarcastic clicks. There was just enough silence for Hermione to choose between wheat and rye rolls before Marin reinitiated conversation.
"I have a Maths exam on Tuesday. Do you think you could help me study?"
"Of course, I..." Hermione started immediately, but paused halfway between the tying of her bread bag and the placing of it in her carriage. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said, sounding honestly so. "I have an appointment on Monday afternoon. I have to drive into the city, I probably won't be back before seven or eight." Marin's face dramatically fell. She shook her head.
"It's all right; I can ask Billy if we can study in his tree house. He's not too much better than I am, but maybe we can figure it out together," she said, hoping to not attain a pity speech from her mentor. Hermione sighed, biting her bottom lip.
"I'll tell you what," she said finally, holding an index finger to the ceiling in 'eureka'. "I'll devote my entire Sunday to you. I'm sure Draco won't mind; his store could use the business hours anyway. Actually, he could probably do with a lesson himself." Marin bit back her polite decline and furrowed her eyebrows.
"Draco has his own store? I just thought he worked at one," she asked and Hermione paused again, realizing her mistake. It wouldn't do any good to lie to Marin; she had a way of squeezing the truth from a person.
"Well... yes. He owns a two story building and lives upstairs while he runs the boutique on the first floor. It's a quaint place."
Marin seemed to consider her words for a moment, then her eyes lit up with mischief.
"That's why we never go there, isn't it? It's some sort of porn dealership."
"What?" Hermione snapped in surprise, frightening an elderly woman who was sampling cheese. "Of course it isn't! How could you even fabricate such an untruth? You know very well that Draco is in the antique business." Marin sighed, nodding.
"Yes, I know. It just sounded much more fantastic that way."
"I'm not sure your fantasies are fit for a girl of fourteen."
"I'm almost fifteen," Marin cried in defense, but it did little good in her case. She crossed her arms and changed the topic. "So, why don't we ever go to Draco's house?"
"Because mine is much more fun. End of discussion."
"Well, I'm sorry," Marin bit sarcastically. "I didn't realize you were so sensitive about it."
"I'll wash your mouth with soap," Hermione threatened.
"I'd like to see you try."
"Oh, I have my ways, love. You just count on that."
-x- -x- -x-
Draco stared at her, sitting cross legged on the sofa of her living room with pale fingers curled around a book and hair done up in a haphazard ponytail. She wore the same pajamas he expected she had a fifteen, innocent and patterned with some sort of cartoon cat, white and pristine. She seemed to enjoy ignoring his presence, captured by the tale drawn in text that lay before her, turning pages with unbelievable speed. He couldn't help but admire her focus and the way she allowed nothing to even slow her eyes from their rapid journey. It made him see her almost as a different person.
Sighing against his sentimental nothingness, Draco shifted position on the stool at the breakfast bar and propped his head on a hand, drumming his twitchy fingers against the surface of the counter.
At the break in concentration, her eyes stopped moving. Draco noticed and ceased his drumming momentarily, lifting a hand to wave to her as she brought her gaze to rest upon his brow. She sighed.
"I told you, Draco," Faye said, "She didn't expect to be home until late. What's so important that you have to see her now anyway? Can't you spend a day apart?"
"What makes you think you know everything?" he asked without scorn, happy to be entertained with conversation. "And for your information, I didn't see her at all yesterday. She spent our Sunday tutoring Marin, and I am perfectly fine with that." Faye rolled her eyes.
"Whatever you say, Blondie," she mumbled, turning back to her reading, but Draco was not ready to finish the conversation. His mind was left to wander when there was silence and as Faye was the only observable subject in proximity, it was not his first choice of ways to pass the time.
"If you must know, I planned to ask her something tonight. If I don't do it soon, I fear I might never," he explained, and her head snapped to attention upon registering his words. She approached her response carefully.
"You don't plan to propose, do you? I mean, you're a great guy and everything, but..."
"No," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "Not that it'd be any of your business, if I was."
"All right, all right," Faye said in defense. "No questions; noted. I'll just sit here; feel free to have a one sided conversation in which I fear responding for anticipation of reprimand." Draco gave her a cool glare, but did not dignify her sarcasm with a response. Despite his attempt to force feed conversation, the room again lapsed into silence. Faye returned to her reading and he allowed his head to fall to the countertop, groaning in boredom.
Hermione entered the apartment at half past seven, looking decidedly flustered and troubled.
"Faye," she said, striding directly toward her friend. "I need..." she started, but cut herself off as she saw Draco seated in the kitchen, a large red mark tattooed onto his forehead. Hermione stopped breathing momentarily, staring like a deer caught in headlights. When she regained her composure, she strode purposefully to her bedroom and shut the door behind her without another word. Draco and Faye shared a look of confusion and simultaneously stood to follow her.
"Hermione?" Draco asked, knocking quickly on her door. "What happened?" There was a period of silence from behind the door and Draco listened carefully for any response. "Hermione?" he called again, sounding exponentially concerned, and the door swung quickly open to reveal an incredibly happy Hermione. She had lost all of the distress she had shown in the living room, looking now carefree and overly excited.
"Hi!" she greeted enthusiastically, creating creases of confusion in the marred skin of Draco's forehead. Faye was slowly making her way back down the hallway, leaving the lovers in peace, though she looked back suspiciously.
"What was that about?" Draco asked, befuddlement evident in his speech. Hermione emitted a very false laugh.
"Oh," she said. "I... I had your Christmas present; I didn't want you to see. I'm sorry." Hermione pushed herself up to kiss him and Draco relaxed, looking relieved and enlightened. She smiled. "So, what are you doing here? I did tell you I had an engagement this evening, didn't I?" Draco nodded.
"Yes, but I wanted to talk to you. Is that all right?" he asked, and Hermione bit her bottom lip, nodding eagerly and pulling him into her bedroom. "Hermione," Draco continued once they were both seated and settled on her bed. Hermione listened intently. "You know, it makes five months tomorrow since the reunion in July." Tilting her head to the side, Hermione nodded. She too had been counting the days. "Well," Draco began again. "I have something I've been meaning to give you for a while, and now seems an opportune time to do it." He reached into his jacket pocket and watched as Hermione's eyes widened.
Draco held his hand forward, clasped in a fist around some material object. Hermione felt her heart begin to beat faster; she couldn't help but to wonder if he was going to propose. Quickly, she tried to rummage something to say in response, but her mind was left blank. As his fingers began to open, she could concentrate on nothing but her breathing. Draco slowly uncurled his fist, and Hermione's chest swelled as she caught a glint of gold in his palm. She held her breath and Draco presented a splayed hand before her.
"A key?" she asked after a moment of silence, sounding skeptical. Draco laughed.
"Yes, a key; to my apartment," he said, lifting her hand from its place in her lap and placing the gold key within it.
"All this drama, just to give me a key?" she asked, relaxing and fiddling with the new object amusedly. Draco gave a slight nod.
"Well, there's a bit more," he said and sounded nervous. Hermione looked up, eyes curious, and Draco swallowed. "I want you to move in with me." He said it quickly, like tearing off a bandage, and stunned Hermione into a semi-long pause.
"I... I don't know what to say," she admitted after a moment. "You know I'd love to, but I can't just pack up and leave..." Draco nodded in agreement before she had even finished her thought.
"I know; I know that. This would pose a certain problem for Faye, I realize, and I understand if you want to talk it over with her first and work things out. You don't have to answer now; I just wanted to ask," he said, running nervous fingers through his hair. "It's quite a relief, really."
Hermione crawled slightly forward and initiated a heartfelt kiss in thank you before moving back to again inspect her key. Draco smiled.
"You know, there's one more thing," he admitted and Hermione looked up. She felt her heart begin to quicken again. "I have another key," Draco stated, calming her before she could show any sign of nervous anticipation. Hermione exhaled softly. "And a proposition." He produced the second key from his breast pocket, holding it out to her. "I think we should tell Marin about us." Hermione looked confused.
"Marin? She does know about us, Draco... and what part does she play in this?"
"No," Draco said, shaking his head. "About our magic. I know she's a muggle, but it wouldn't be the first to ever learn of us. Your parents were muggles too, and they've posed no harm to our world. I think we can trust her; I'm starting to take a liking to her." He smiled, and Hermione returned it ten fold.
"All right," she agreed. "I've been debating for years; I love her so much, I hate lying to her. If you think we should, I can't disagree." Draco gave a nod.
"Good. Now, that other key is for her, even if you don't decide to leave this apartment just yet. I think you're right about her home life, and it makes me uneasy. I want her to know that she has somewhere to go if she gets in trouble. With a good pair of shoes, my place is just healthy walking distance," he explained, speaking softly to show his concern, and Hermione gaped for a moment, speechless. When she regained composure, she gave an excited squeal, leaping into his arms and embracing him.
"Oh, you're unbelievable," she praised, pulling back to place an exaggerated kiss on his lips. "Cor, I think this has been the happiest day of my life." Draco chuckled.
"What about the day you met me? Wasn't that a good day?" he teased, and Hermione gave a great 'ha'.
"Are you kidding? Draco, the day I met you, you sneered at me, pushed me down, and spat at my shoes. Definitely not a good day," she reminded him and Draco pouted. "Yes, yes, I know; you were a stupid kid. I couldn't agree more," Hermione agreed, grinning from ear to ear. She kissed him again, more seriously, and smiled softly as they broke apart. "You should go home; it's already pitch black outside. Please? If you stay much longer, I'll worry about you."
"Trying to get rid of me already?" he prodded and she gave him half a smile. "All right, all right." Hermione led Draco through the living room where he bid a fleeting goodbye to Faye, and kissed him goodnight at the door. In spite of Faye's rule about in-home apparition, Draco disappeared with a loud crack just outside the threshold, making her visibly jump. She glared at the door as Hermione closed it, a wide grin still plastered on her face.
"Inconsiderate, incompetent, pigheaded, irritating..." Faye mumbled as she closed her book, ready to prod Hermione for details. She sighed once her flatmate had sat down, grinning foolishly at the ceiling. "What's got you so happy?"
"Well," Hermione started suggestively, casting a look at her friend which made Faye lift her eyebrows in curiosity. "A few things."
"What was that thing he absolutely had to ask you?"
"He asked me to move in with him," Hermione admitted, but quickly continued before Faye could voice the question of her future if the Gryffindor were to accept her boyfriend's offer. "But that's not all; he gave me a key for Marin; he wants her to have somewhere to go if something happens. Can you believe that? He understands everything."
"Hermione..." Faye said, speaking softly and with utmost concern. "I'm happy for you, really, but I do have a problem with this arrangement. We've joked about it, sure, but...what am I supposed to do? I can't afford this apartment on my own."
"Faye," Hermione said, shaking her head to calm her friend's worries. "I haven't said yes yet; Draco knows about our situation. I promise; I will not leave you until I am absolutely sure you'll be all right without me. If that means I have to wait until you graduate, then so be it. For now, I have bigger problems that need immediate attention." Faye lifted an eyebrow in curiosity.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I was at the doctor this afternoon," Hermione admitted, fighting the urge to move her hand to rest below her breasts. "In the city; the women's clinic." Faye's curiosity grew into blatant worry. She felt guilty for concerning Hermione with her living arrangements when she had living to worry about.
"God, Hermione," she said softly, clasping Hermione's hand between her own. "What is it?" The brunette sighed, preparing herself for the first break of news. She turned to her blonde friend and offered a half smile.
"I'm pregnant."
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A/N: I know, cheapest cliffhanger in the book. I'm sorry. I tried very hard to make Hermione seem pregnant without it being too obvious or overdone. I looked it up, and honestly, cravings and vomiting are pretty much the only outwardly appearing signs that you might be pregnant. Others are like, sore and enlarged breasts and of course, menstrual deficiency. I hope this wasn't too tacky. Marin will play a role in this story in the future, I promise you. She's not just some character I put in to eat up some of Hermione's time.
I lied; there will be at least one more chapter before the next "part". I really should stop making promises like that; I always seem to break them :oD