Even though Hermione was not entirely sure that she was pregnant, it seemed that her body had made up it's mind. She'd always been perfectly regular, so not getting a period for two months in a row was enough of a hint, but the persistent and pernicious morning sickness was even more obvious.
Sitting on the floor with a trashcan between her legs, Hermione rested her head on the hard metal rim, and wondered just how she'd managed to find herself in this situation. She had never felt more like a child since she left for Hogwarts all those years ago. She had gotten sick pretty much immediately putting away her new clothing, and a small part of her wondered if it was from the baby or from her use of an unforgivable curse.
She wiped desperately at her cheeks, trying to rid her face of the evidence of her tears. Being sick made her cry, but then the memories of Crookshanks made her cry even harder. Her furry cat would always take care of her if she was sick, sitting on her lap and purring furiously, but she hadn't seen him since she had returned from the Diary. She didn't even want to think about what Ron would have done to him after he found out about her "treachery." Despite wishing she could remain hopeful, Hermione could just tell in her heart of hearts that she would never see her cat again.
And that thought and brought about a fresh round of tears, leaving her crying on the floor, sobs making her body shake. It just felt like her whole life was spiraling out of control, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't find a new equilibrium after Tom Riddle had been inserted into her life. She knew that things were only going to get worse before they got better.
She heard a hiss and shuddered when she realized she hadn't even heard Voldemort's familiar come into her room. Lifting her head, she was met with the yellow eyes of Nagini. "Mistress, why do you cry?" the snake asked.
Hermione shook her head, unsure of how much she should tell the snake. Temporarily, she questioned her sanity that she was contemplating talking to the snake at all. It wasn't as if she was a therapist. Understanding that Nagini was a familiar, though, she quickly resolved to tell her what happened. The snake wrapped itself around her leg and looked in the trash can. "Why are you ill?" Nagini pressed further.
Hermione gave a weak smile to the snake. "It's called morning sickness. Being pregnant makes you ill sometimes...it doesn't always happen in the morning though," she explained, glad for her rudimentary knowledge of pregnancy health. She hadn't been able to look through any books relating to the subject yet.
"Ahh...and that is why you are crying? Because you are sick?" Nagini asked sagely, further wrapping her muscular body up Hermione's waist, the gentle push and pull of her muscles creating a vaguely unpleasant feeling.
Hermione frowned, knowing that it wasn't even scratching the surface. "Well, not exactly. A little bit yes. I am really upset because my familiar Crookshanks...well, I haven't seen him since before I went into the Diary. I am pretty sure he is no longer alive," she explained, a new batch of tears welling up in her eyes. She whipped her hand haphazardly across her face to remove some of the tears.
Nagini was silent for a while, resting her head on the girl's shoulder, to try and produce some kind of comfort, but mostly just making Hermione feel uncomfortable. Finally, the snake spoke again. "You should get ready for dinner. Since the young Malfoy is returning, it is a formal dinner...why don't you wear something nice for the master?" Nagini untangled herself from Hermione so that she could get up and rifle through all the dresses in her new wardrobe.
Hermione's fingers stopped at one of the new dresses that Bellatrix had selected. It was white eyelet lace, and also extremely tight to her body, but it had been surprisingly flattering to her body. "I don't know if this would be appropriate Nagini?" she asked the snake, hoping that she wasn't about to make some terrible faux pax in front of Draco Malfoy of all people
"I am sure it will be fine. Also, with the progeny growing, soon you will be unable to wear a dress such as that," Nagini added, her pink tongue flickering out in amusement.
Hermione smiled. The snake did have a point.
Harry and Ron were sitting in the library of Order Headquarters, staring resolutely at their laps. Harry could feel his cheeks burning in humiliation, still remembering the disappointed look that Remus had given them when they showed up at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, abandoning the quest that they had insisted they leave on. He was embarrassed to have returned, slunking home like a child who had tried to run away from its parents, only to realize how in over its head it was.
But they had been in over their heads.
After being out in the cold wilderness for so long, they agreed that they needed to come back. Ron had pitched it as a chance for them to regroup and prepare a better plan. They could stock up on supplies, and surely, the Order would be happy to see them able to think on their feet. While all of the Order seemed happy to see them alive, it was only Molly Weasley who seemed happy to have them back from their journey. Something had shifted since they left, and Harry was struck by the feeling that something was very off with the Order. Maybe they were upset with the two boys for giving up so quickly. Hermione would have had a plan, Harry thought bitterly.
They had to wait around longer than expected for Dumbledore to show up, and as soon as they were granted audience with the older man, Harry could not contain his request any longer. "I want to speak to Hermione!" he pressed.
The whole time that he'd been away from Hermione, he'd only begun feeling more and more terrible about the way that they'd left her behind. He wanted to apologize to her and ask to hear her side of the story, something he hadn't been prepared to do before he left. Harry was positive that his friend would have a good reason behind what she did. She wasn't a traitor, he just needed to understand her perspective. He was ready to hear her side, wanting to have his old friend back, knowing that Hermione would know how to get them out of this mess.
Dumbledore looked at Harry sadly over his half-moon spectacles, with a sorry look on his face. "I am afraid I can't do that Harry," he answered, solemnly.
"Why the hell not?" Harry shouted, the noise reverberating through the still of the library - Hermione's favorite place. He was getting the feeling that Dumbledore was trying to drive a wedge between him and Hermione if he didn't know any better.
"It would seem that Professor Snape and Hermione disappeared two days ago," Dumbledore answered, his blue eyes roving over the pair of confused faces in front of him. "They left to gather potions ingredients - the first time I allowed Hermione to leave Order Headquarters since she had been returned to us - and they haven't returned."
"Oh, well isn't that just bloody fantastic," Ron murmured. "She couldn't get enough of one Slytherin, she had to jump all over the greasy git too."
"You don't know that Ron!" Harry countered, highly doubting that Hermione and Professor Snape were involved romantically, though he supposed it could be a possibility. Maybe something happened to them. Maybe she's just hurt somewhere and needs our help."
"Oh come on, Harry," Ron said, rolling his eyes dramatically. "You always insisted that Professor Snape couldn't be trusted and here's your proof. Now we know that Hermione ended up being a traitor as well."
Dumbledore gave Harry a look that he was certain was meant to look sad. "I'm afraid it seems that I've misjudged both of them," he agreed. "I never expected that they would betray you in this way, or else, I never would have let Hermione leave in the first place."
Harry kept silent, even though he wanted to argue with Dumbledore and Ron even more. His mind was stuck on one thing though...Dumbledore hadn't allowed Hermione to leave Grimmauld Place. Was he keeping her prisoner here? Why shouldn't she be allowed to leave? Sure she made a mistake, but she was loyal, she should be forgiven? He wondered if being kept at Grimmauld Place had anything to do with the reason that she left. After all, he'd broken out of his Aunt and Uncle's multiple times at the same treatment.
Knowing that he wasn't going to make any headway with the pair of stubborn wizards today, Harry left the room, despondent, and with a strange taste in his mouth.
Once Hermione had made herself presentable for dinner with the guest of honor, Draco Malfoy, she was feeling a little bit better. Surprisingly, Nagini had been a good ear for her troubles. Smoothing the white dress she had on, she knew there was no avoiding the dinner any longer. Leaving the sanctuary of her room, she made her way down the stairs, before walking into the grand dining room.
It seemed as though everyone stopped talking when she entered. Hermione felt her breath leave her with everyone's eyes on her and she desperately hoped that she was appropriately dressed for the occasion. While none of the other women were dressed demurely, some with dresses and skirts much shorter than hers, she was the only one wearing a color anywhere near the color white. Internally, she wanted to roll her eyes at all the dark witches wearing such dark colors.
To her relief and her torment, Bellatrix waved her over to the empty seat between her and Snape enthusiastically. While she was still very uncomfortable with Bellatrix, Hermione didn't fancy trying to find a seat anywhere else. Walking with purpose towards the table, her tall gold heels clicked against the marble and seemed to echo in the silent room.
Snape was sitting on Voldemort's right side, and Lucius was on his left. This meant that Draco was seated directly across from her. She noticed the surprise the blond had on his face when she walked into the room, but tried not to meet his eyes. She didn't want to know what he was thinking about her, as she was certain it wasn't flattering.
After she sat down, dinner was served, and Hermione hoped that they hadn't been waiting on her. She'd rarely been late to anything. She could have snorted with how Malfoy all the dishes were, seemingly designed to be the most expensive possible, without much thought to if the dish would be good. Bellatrix spent most of her dinner quietly chatting with her husband, Rodolphus, so Hermione turned and spoke quietly with Severus through the appetizer course of caviar. By the time that a full lobster was being served to each individual, Draco could no longer hold in his curiosity.
"So it's true then?" he asked, staring directly into her eyes. "You love the wandwork of Slytherin's, eh, mudblood? Who would have thought a bit of sex would be all it took to make you turn traitor, Granger. I thought that you were supposed to be self-righteous, but I guess you've finally recognized who your superiors are," Draco sneered.
Before she had a chance to respond, Bellatrix drew her wand so quickly Hermione barely had a chance to blink. She didn't seem to care that she was threatening her own flesh and blood, though Narcissa's face had gone decidedly paler than usual. "Don't you dare call her that you filth! Hermione is more useful and brilliant than one million mudbloods!" Hermione cringed at Bellatrix's defence, but was pretty certain that Bellatrix knew that she really was a mudblood.
Draco immediately crumbled under his aunt's screaming, trying to make himself seem as small as possible. Internally, Hermione wanted to laugh at the pathetic boy, suddenly not so tough as he seemed.
The ruckus caught the attention of everyone at the table. It seemed that all the Death Eaters wanted to address her as her situation stipulated, but it was clear that they would have to deal with the formidable Bellatrix if they were to. Hermione wondered what exactly Voldemort had told them about her. "She is a special case, like Severus," Bellatrix continued, pressing a hand to Hermione's shoulder in a gesture of fondness.
Hermione looked at Snape, apologetically. She knew he was a half-blood, and wanted to apologize for her being the cause of his blood status being brought up again in front of his peers. She was certain that he didn't enjoy being embarrassed that way. He merely gave her a small smile and began eating, projecting an air that he was unbothered by the situation.
When Bellatrix sat back down, it seemed as though Voldemort had finally noticed that she was actually there. Without caring that he had an audience, he began talking to her in parselmouth. "Hermione, Nagini has informed me that you were ill earlier. Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded, sounding irritated even in the snake language.
Hermione gulped, knowing that everyone was looking at her with confusion. She knew that they were all curious as to what her relationship with the Dark Lord was, and why he hadn't killed her (yet), why she was being allowed to stay with them, dine with them, as if she was one of them. "Well, it is only the second time it has happened. It's just morning sickness. Most pregnant women get it," she explained, not wanting him to worry about her. The thought that he might be concerned with her health had her stomach doing flip-flops.
Voldemort nodded to her. "I have sent for a healer to examine you tomorrow. You will not tell them who the child's father is. And, I will have Severus begin preparing you some potion for the nausea," he responded, sounding a bit relieved.
Hermione turned back to her food. "Thank you, Voldemort," she said, glad that she was going to know for certain if she was pregnant in just a short amount of time. After hearing the sharp collective intake of breath, she knew that she had responded in English and not in parseltongue. She also knew that that was not the proper way for her to address him, and the rest of the Death Eaters were more than a bit scandalized. If they were waiting for her punishment, it didn't come.
Hermione just started eating her food again, wishing that she could just be swallowed up by the floor. Slowly but surely attention was removed from her person as everyone went back to their own conversations. Hermione further snorted once the dessert was served - saffron ice cream with gold flecks. How much more obvious could Malfoy get!
Looking at the boy across the table from her, she say him watching her with suspicious eyes, and she hoped that he wasn't planning anything devious.
Later, Voldemort was sitting in his study, finding certain things here and there that he wanted Hermione to work on. He hadn't been initially thrilled that she was coming to stay with them, but he would not pretend like he wasn't impressed with her magical skill. If she was going to be there, he was going to find a way to make her useful to him.
Picking up the book on his desk, he paged through the old, brittle paper. This was one specific text that he needed translated, seeing as it was written in a very ancient set of runes. Of course, he could do it, if given enough time, but he never had enough time. He was certain Hermione would find it a challenge, but one that she would be able to accomplish. If he was correct, and he often was, there would then be an arithmetic equation for her to solve from the text in the end.
Nagini came in a little while later, and curled up next to the fire that was going in his fireplace enjoying the warmth. She was silent until her master came to rest in the chair next to the fireplace. He reached his hand down and gave the giant snake a pet or two on her head, in a show of affection that would remain secret between the two.
"Nagini, I can tell that you have something to tell me. Why don't you just do it now?" he asked his oldest friend, except perhaps Nott.
"Well, earlier, when I went to check on the girl, she was in tears. It was partly because she was sick, and mostly because she thinks that the Order has destroyed or harmed her familiar," Nagini explained, curling herself up his leg so that she could get a better look at him.
Voldemort felt the flash of a memory. He could see the orange creature that had the most awful disposition. Despite himself, he could feel himself grow sad on the girl's behalf, thinking that the Order was truly awful to separate a witch from her familiar. "Hmm, curious," he answered, knowing that Nagini was far too perceptive for her own good. It wouldn't do for the snake to learn that he was feeling sorry for the girl.
"If I may, master, her mood might be improved if she had a familiar here. Something just her own. It would make her feel more at home and grateful to you, my Lord," Nagini offered, sagely.
Voldemort gave his familiar another pet. The wise old snake did have a point.