Chapter 2
Hermione's eyes fluttered open as she groggily took in her surroundings. Her eyelids felt like they weighed ten pounds each, and her head was pounding with every jerky movement she made. As she looked around the room, however, the pain she felt from her head diminished as panic began to escalade.
She was in a strange bed, in a strange room lightly bathed from the sunrise. And what was more, she was in this bed… naked. Dreading what she might see, Hermione slowly turned her head around to see just who it was that she'd apparently slept with.
The man was faced away from her, providing her with a solid, lightly muscled back and a head of pale blond hair. Something about the hair, Hermione desperately tried to remember, was very familiar… Just then the man rolled onto his back, eyes still shut. The sheets were pulled to his hips, allowing her more than a glimpse of a smooth and hard chest that spoke of years of athletics…
Hermione dragged her eyes up past his neck to look upon the nameless face, the face that she'd drunkenly slept with. As his face began to register, however, horror overtook the panic as she realized just who it was.
I slept with Draco Malfoy? She wailed in her mind, careful not to make a sound to wake him up. Draco Malfoy!
In a strange way, he had changed utterly and not at all from the sneering seventh year that she'd known at Hogwarts. His cheekbones were sharper, the planes of his face were more chiseled, and there was a light growth of facial hair that he definitely had not had at school. However, he was still so completely Malfoy that it was ridiculous.
How had she ended up in bed with him? She'd kill him if he'd taken advantage of her inebriated state—but then again, that did seem highly improbable. Likely, he had been drunk too; otherwise, why would he have deigned to sleep with one that he believed was absolutely inferior to himself? And a man that looked like this, Hermione thought uneasily, surely had no need to persuade a drunk woman to have sex with him to relieve himself.
Which brought her to another point. Just how many times had they had sex? As she'd attempted to scoot closer to the edge of he bed, muscles that she hadn't even known she'd possessed were screaming in pain. Surely one time wouldn't have hurt that much… would it?
And speaking of sex, just how safe had it been? Who knew how many different women he had slept with, and what he might have caught from them. Which meant that she was in danger of acquiring some disease from him! She groaned again, thinking that even Ron was not worth this.
Ron.
Hermione blinked. Ron had gotten married last night, hadn't he? And that was how this all had started. She remembered his wedding, and being locked out of her flat… fuck, she was secluded with Malfoy without the protection of her wand! She sighed, rubbing her eyes before even attempting to remember more. She'd gone to the bar to look for Lavender… gotten drunk. Malfoy must have been there; she remembered leaving with some guy- how could she have been so stupid!- with growing horror, she even remembered propositioning him!
She could just imagine his jeering now- Granger, satisfied now that you've finally gotten what you've been lusting after? or Granger, wait until the entirety of the wizarding world hears about how much you wanted me. Or even, Won't Potty and Weasel be surprised?
Oh, Merlin. She couldn't lay in this bed any longer, next to Malfoy. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, biting her lip to contain the moan that threatened to rise as her feet bumped the ground, sending a wave of pain directly to her temples. The only thing that could have worsened the situation was having Malfoy awaken right now—that, she definitely did not need.
Hermione gaped in shock and disgust once she got off the bed, at the pile of used condoms that littered the floor. How was it even possible for a man to have so many in one night? She didn't stop to count, but grimaced. There was a silver lining, though; at least she knew that protection had been used.
She had to get out of there before Malfoy awakened. Stopping to grab her robes from where they lay, discarded, near the entrance to the hotel room in which they were currently in, she scourged the room to see if anything identifiable would be left. She paused in the middle of pulling on her robes, when she felt something hard inside them.
Hermione blinked in surprise as she pulled out a wand, before remembering that Lavender had handed her hers to use. Thanking Lavender mentally for her promiscuity, Hermione bit her lip as she considered what was the appropriate action to take. Deciding at last that the less Malfoy remembered of this night, the better, she whispered a scourgify! around the room, carefully disposing of the numerous condoms located in the strangest places and replacing fallen lamps and toppled over chairs. She'd had to cast several charms, surprisingly; Hermione was secretly shocked that her charms had not been stronger, before realizing that this must have been due to the fact that the wand she was using was not hers. The strange tendency for a wand to be reluctant if commanded by one other than its master was quite inconvenient. However, the room now looked like a perfectly respectable hotel room, holding a sleeping, naked man.
The last thing to deal with was, in fact, the naked man. Hermione approached the bed tentatively, thinking hard. Truthfully, Malfoy would not care to remember this night either- why would he? Certainly, sleeping with a "Mudblood" was beneath him. And if it was unethical to perform a memory charm on someone unknowing, then so be it.
"Obliviate!" She ordered, pointing Lavender's wand at Malfoy. A flash of blue light glowed at the end of the wand, before it disappeared into Malfoy, who slept undisturbed. She briefly wondered if she should perform a second charm, in case the first was not strong enough on its own, but quickly decided against it; she could still remember the effects of a too-strong memory charm on Lockhart. And despite her disdain for Malfoy, she had no wish to make him mentally incapable.
Thanking the gods above that Malfoy hadn't awakened yet, Hermione took a last, lingering look at him before apparating away to her flat, certain that this would be the last time that she would ever see him.
Two months later
Hermione closed her eyes, calculating furiously. She couldn't believe that she hadn't noticed that her period had been missing for two months; it was just that she was so irregular to begin with, and there had been times when she'd skipped months before starting her cycle again.
Although, before those times, she hadn't had sex.
She bit her lip, growing increasingly nervous. She couldn't be pregnant, she simply couldn't. They had used protection; hadn't she seen those used condoms with her own eyes? Hermione shook her head wildly, refusing to entertain the possibility that she and Malfoy might have … forgotten, once or twice. She muttered all the curse words she knew, and then repeated the list, hoping against hope that this was all a mistake, and she hadn't been impregnated by Malfoy.
Malfoy! God. There was no way that he would marry her- and it was equally impossible that she would marry him. He was Malfoy, and she was Granger. The baby- Hermione chewed on her lip again nervously- the baby would just have to … deal. She knew that she would hopefully be a good mother, and besides, she probably wasn't even pregnant!
But being Hermione, she couldn't leave things to chance, and that meant a pregnancy test.
Of course, she couldn't go out and buy one; it had scarcely been a year since Voldemort's death and the media were still tailing Harry and herself. If word got out that Hermione Granger had been seen purchasing ingredients for a pregnancy test potion… the results could be disastrous.
There was only one thing for it. Hermione made her way over to her fireplace, throwing in a pinch of floo power from a small vase on the mantel before whispering, "Ginny Weasley."
Once her head was in Ginny's kitchen, she called out, "Ginny, are you there?"
A head popped into her line of vision as she called. "Hermione?" The man inquired. "Oh hey, what's up? Want me to call Ginny?"
Hermione was briefly surprised at seeing Dean in Ginny's flat, but recovered. "Hi Dean. Yes please," she requested, marveling to herself at how natural and casual she had sounded. As if she was just going to invite Ginny over to tea, and not to help her administer a pregnancy test potion.
Footsteps were heard, padding down the stairs, before Ginny popped into the kitchen. "Hi, Hermione! What's up?" She asked, settling herself in front of the fireplace, as if to have a long chat. "Why didn't you just come over?"
"I was wondering if we could talk," Hermione said hesitantly, remembering that Dean was still in the room.
At that, Dean laughed. "That's my cue to leave," he joked. "It's probably about shopping and periods, right?"
Hermione chucked mirthlessly. "Dean Thomas, you have no idea how right you are," she deadpanned. "But yeah, it's kind of a girl thing."
He laughed again before bending down to drop a light kiss on Ginny's lips, and saluted Hermione. "Enjoy the talk, then. Gin, I'm just going to go to Diagon Alley, okay? I think Ron said something about the Quidditch shop getting in some new shipments…"
Hermione made herself hide her innate reaction at the mention of Ron's name. "Thanks Dean," she said instead. "Sorry to tear you apart from Ginny- but absence does the heart good."
Ginny waved goodbye to him before settling down in earnest. "It sounds serious, Hermione," she said in a worried voice, "you aren't pregnant or anything, are you?"
Hermione was taken back by this. "Have you been taking lessons from Trelawney or something, without me knowing?" She wondered outloud.
Ginny began to choke, coughing loudly for a full minute. "What?" she said when she finally regained her breath. "You really are pregnant? Hermione!"
Hermione sighed. "Yeah, at least I didn't have to say it. Well," she corrected herself, "I suspect that I might be… I haven't had my period in two months, Ginny, and I'm really worried. I need to make a potion… do you think you can get the ingredients for me? I don't want to be seen buying them…"
Ginny nodded empathetically. "Of course I will, I'll be over later this afternoon. But Hermione…" her voice dropped, though no one else was in the room, "who's the, you know, father?"
Hermione's eyes widened involuntarily. She hadn't considered what she'd tell other people, but she knew that telling them that Malfoy was the father wasn't an option. "Um, we can talk about that later, when you get here," she hedged. "I'm really sorry, but please come over quickly."
Ginny nodded again. "Of course I will, I'll just run- or apparate, anyway- to Diagon Alley, okay? I'll be there in an hour." With a pop, Ginny disappeared, and Hermione retreated back to her own living room.
She really didn't know what she'd do, if she was truly pregnant. Abortion was not an option; she could not stand the idea of killing her own baby. Adoption was equally abominable; it would simply be selfish to give up the baby. The decision to keep it and raise it was an easily made one, but there were others that were harder- such as, how much to tell people.
Hermione had already decided that she would not make public the fact that Draco Malfoy was the father. In fact, the only option that she could see, was refuse to disclose anything. In fact, perhaps it would be better if she claimed that she could not remember who she had slept with that night. It was uncharacteristic of her, but she hoped that her friends would understand.
True to her word, Ginny breathlessly apparated into Hermione's foyer within the hour and pounded on the door. "Hermione!" she called, "It's me, let me in! I'm going to drop all this, so hurry!"
Hermione hurried to the door, yanking it open to reveal Ginny holding an armful of supplies. She took half of the load from Ginny, leading her friend to the relative privacy of her own room, not knowing when Lavender could make an appearance.
"I've already begun the potion," Hermione said slowly, "I didn't want to be just sitting here, waiting for you to come." She headed to a table where a large cauldron was set up and consulted a large book sitting open by the smoking cauldron, before digging through the bags that Ginny had brought. Finally emerging with a bottle of what looked like normal ferns and leaves, she carefully added four pollen seeds before turning to Ginny, who was just sitting, open-mouthed.
"Hermione," she said just as slowly, "are you going to tell me who it is?" She was sitting on the floor, leaning against Hermione's bed, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.
Hermione stirred the potion counter-clockwise twice, biding her time. Finally deciding that she had to answer, she opened her mouth before shutting it, and thought some more. "Ginny," she said at last, "I don't, um, I don't really remember that night."
Ginny looked at her sharply for a long moment before rolling her eyes. "Hermione Granger, you are a horrible liar," she said flatly. "If you don't want me to know, then say so, but don't lie- because you can't get away with it."
Hermione flushed. She should have known that Ginny would be perceptive enough to know when she was lying- hell, she should have known that anyone would be perceptive enough to know when she was lying, even great idiots like Crabbe and Goyle.
"All right," she muttered, "I'll tell you. But you have to swear not to tell anyone. Not even- no, scratch that, especially not Harry, or-" she swallowed, "-or Ron. Got it?"
Ginny looked slightly offended. "Hermione, I know how to keep a secret," she reminded her friend. "I never told anyone about the time you and Harry and Ron got drunk off Firewhiskey and you and Ron-"
"Okay, okay," Hermione interrupted quickly, "No need to go there. I believe you."
"So…?" Ginny looked expectantly at her.
"ItwasDracoMalfoy," Hermione said, very quickly. She looked away from Ginny, instead pretending to be absorbed in her potion.
"I'm sorry, I must have been mistaken; I could have sworn that I heard 'Draco Malfoy'," Ginny said with a giggle. "What was that again?"
"DracoMalfoy," Hermione said after a pause. "MalfoyMalfoyMalfoy."
Her giggles subsided, as Ginny stared wonderingly at Hermione, through new eyes. "Draco Malfoy!" She squealed, not sounding as pissed as Hermione had expected her to. "Are you kidding me?"
"Um, no," Hermione said with a frown, "why would I joke about that?"
Ginny grew serious as the implications sank in. "Wow, Hermione. What are you going to do? I mean, there's no way that you and Malfoy can marry."
Hermione nodded. "Well, my first priority is to check and see if I'm pregnant at all- it might all be a fluke, you know."
"You can only hope," Ginny said grimly. "Hermione, single parenthood in the wizarding world is… difficult. And it's horrible on the child. He'll be made fun of, and teased… it's really unheard of for a girl to get pregnant and not marry the guy."
"I know," Hermione wailed, "but I don't want to marry Malfoy any more than he wants to marry me!"
Ginny was quiet for so long that Hermione suspected that she'd fallen asleep. Instead of interrupting, Hermione added two more ingredients to the potion that was now brewing quite merrily, ironically. "Hermione," Ginny said at last in a thoughtful voice, "What if Malfoy proposed to you?"
"What the hell do you mean by that?" Hermione demanded, filled with horror. "First of all, Ginny Weasley, there is no way that Malfoy will propose, and secondly, even if he did, there is absolutely no way in hell that I would accept!" She added a sniff for good measure, before wondering if she was overdoing it a little bit.
"Hermione," Ginny attempted to explain, "I don't think I'm the best person to explain this, but I'm all you've got right now. Okay, look. Every pureblooded family- yes, even the Weasleys," she expounded upon Hermione's surprised look, "-Every pureblooded family holds great importance upon heirs. We're very much like the muggle tradition from long ago that the oldest son inherits the title, the entailments of the land, and things like that. We don't have anything like that in our family, of course, but the Malfoy family is the epitome of those pureblooded families that holds things like that above everything else. If your baby is a boy, then it is the rightful Malfoy heir, and it must be brought up with the Malfoy family- or at least, that's what most of the wizarding families will advocate."
"Even though the baby would be a half-blood?" Hermione asked. "I mean, I thought the Malfoys hated anything not pureblooded."
"They do," Ginny agreed, "but even that is not as important as the family bond. It's actually a written rule among most pureblood family codes, though it's more strictly enforced as an understood one."
"Ginny…" Hermione gasped in horror as color seeped out of her face, leaving it a thin parchment white, "Ginny, if that's the case, then Malfoy wouldn't offer to marry me, he'd just take the baby away!"
Ginny froze, eyes widening. "Oh my god, I didn't even think about that. Lucius Malfoy would probably prefer that to having Malfoy marry you, Hermione. Oh Merlin, what are you going to do?"
Hermione felt chills spread from her heart down to every crack and crevice in her body. "First," she said shakily, "I'm going to make this potion. And I'm going to hope that…" she clenched her teeth. "I don't know, Ginny. I don't know what to hope for."
Ginny placed a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder, but it did nothing to relieve her of her nightmarish thoughts. For she had no doubts that if she was pregnant with the Malfoy heir, then there was no way that Lucius Malfoy would permit her to keep her own child. After all, she had seen how fanatic he was about keeping blood clean- and if that was less important than the familial bonds, then it was as sure as hell that he would kill her before allowing her to keep the baby.
Hermione shakily added the last ingredient to the potion before stirring it one last time. "Okay," she said, merely to break the tense silence, "Okay. I have to add three drops of my blood into this. If it turns silver in three minutes, it's a boy… gold if it's a girl. If it doesn't turn anything, then that means that I'm not pregnant…"
With the wand that Ginny silently handed her, Hermione made a slight gash on her thumb, and watched three drops of blood drip into the murky brown potion before waving her wand above the cut once more to heal it.
"Three minutes," she said quietly, as she and Ginny silently sat and stared into the murky depths of the cauldron. The first minute passed by slower than anything that Hermione had ever felt; each second felt like an hour and the whole minute itself was an entire lifetime. Sometime between the second and third minute, however, the entire potion began lighten until the entire solution glowed an iridescent silver.
She continued to stare blankly into the potion, unable to grasp the meaning that this brought. She was finally broken out of her thoughts as Ginny gave a loud squeal, before throwing her arms around her friend.
"Hermione! You're going to be a mother!" She screamed. "I'm so happy for you!"
"Are you?" Hermione asked quietly. "And what kind of life can I give this child?"
Ginny took a firm grasp of her shoulders and turned her to look into her eyes directly. "Hermione Granger," she said solemnly, "I'll grant you, the situation isn't ideal. However, this is a baby, your baby. And I am so happy for you, because I know that you will make the best of mothers. Hermione, I'll always be here to help you out, and you know that Mum would be ecstatic to help you if you only asked. She's been pining since I grew up, you know," she added with a giggle. "And you know Harry and Ron will be overjoyed, as well."
At Hermione's disbelieving look, Ginny giggled. "Well, yes, they'll threaten to castrate Malfoy, but they'll come around. They love you."
"But remember," Hermione warned, "they won't know it's Malfoy, will they, Ginerva Weasley?"
Ginny waved a hand. "Of course they won't," she assured. "Your secret is safe with me."
"Ginny…" Hermione chewed on her lip, knowing that it was a bad habit but unable to stop, "I'm scared. I really am. I'm scared that I won't be able to raise this baby correctly, I'm scared that it'll hate me, I'm really scared that Malfoy will take it away, I'm scared of what my family will say, not to mention my friends. Ginny, how am I going to support it? How am I supposed to work, with a baby? God, what the hell am I going to do?"
"One thing at a time," Ginny said calmly, placicating Hermione, "You'll raise it well, I know you will, and it'll love you. Your family will support you, because they love you- I've met your parents, remember? Your friends will understand. You'll get a job- every employer is falling over you, and you know that. You can practically name your starting wages! And once you start working, Mum would love to look after it. As for Malfoy… we can only hope that he won't find out. I won't tell anyone, and I know you wont."
Hermione nodded slowly.
"But you know," Ginny said thoughtfully, "we really must stop calling it 'it'."
Hermione had to laugh, knowing how true Ginny was. "You're right, but a baby's name isn't something I can come up with at the drop of a hat. I'll have to think about it for awhile…"
"Make a list," Ginny teased. "Consult Hogwarts, A History…"
"You've got it," Hermione agreed.
"But in the meantime," Ginny crawled on top of Hermione's bed to sprawl down, "you have to do something about your living situation. I hardly think Lavender will be willing to live with a baby…"
"You're right," Hermione admitted. "But I don't know what to do. I can't move out and strand Lavender; I know she won't be able to afford this place on her own. Not to mention, I'd better start saving my money if I'm going to be able to support this baby."
Ginny was quiet, before shrugging. "Things have a way of working out, Hermione," she predicted. "Don't worry too much. What are you going to tell everyone?"
Hermione shrugged. "I was going to say that I didn't know who the father was… but that didn't apparently go too well," she said ruefully, with a shake of her head.
"You're right," Ginny chuckled, "You're an abominable liar, and there's no way you'll get away with that lie. I suggest that you simply stick as close to the truth as you can, without disclosing too much."
Hermione shook her head. "I'll do even better than that. I won't tell them at all about anything… I'll just say that I refuse to tell anyone. That is, after all, the truth."
"Truth," Ginny said after a moment. "Truth, that works."
"I just hope that it's enough," Hermione closed her eyes wearily. "Because I will fight Malfoy to hell and back before I let him take away this baby."