"Barty? The Healer's here." He tilted his head up to look at his Mother. Her cold stone expression soften to one of pity.
"Bring them in." He croaked hoarsely. I smoothed his hair back and spoke up, ignoring the pain that shot through my lower abdomen as I did so.
"You have to leave, Barty. They won't come in until you've left." I whispered softly, a sad smile on my lips.
"What? No!"
"I'm sorry, Bar-
"No. She's mine, I don't want anyone else touching her!" Barty snarled, his possessive nature hiding his fear to let me go. He clenched my hand tightly in his own, his brown eyes slightly crazed.
"Relax, Barty, I'll be fine. Wait right outside the door if you must. But you've got to go." He looked so much like a little boy at the moment, so scared that something would go wrong. He released me slowly, cautiously, before skulking out of the room. As he left the room, the Healer entered, but not before receiving the glare of his life from Barty. He gulped and smiled weakly at Madame Crouch. She nodded and left the room, but not before warning off the Healer.
"If she doesn't make it, Healer, you will pay the consequences. She is my Barty's girl, and I will not let her die. Am I understood?" The Healer gulped and nodded, clearly intimidated by the small woman. She offered me a small smile before closing the door behind her.
"You certainly are lucky to have Isabella looking after you, my dear, even if her son isn't the best of choices for you as a husband."
-Barty Crouch Junior's POV-
I continually paced the hallway, anxious to get back to my witch. My temper bubbled furiously. She had been pregnant. With my child! I clenched my fists before slamming them against the wall.
"Bloody hell!" I cursed painfully, my emotions creating turmoil within me, making me sick to my stomach. I flinched as Mother placed her hand on my tense shoulder. I spun around to glare at her, faltering when I saw her warm face smiling back at me. I ran a hand through my already messy hair, almost pulling it out by the roots in an attempt to relieve the multitude of emotions stirring within me.
"Mother..." I detested the sound of my voice. Helpless. Broken. I didn't resist as she pulled me into her warm embrace.
"My poor Barty, what have you been doing, cavorting with the Dark Lord and his followers?" I looked up, my eyes wide. How did she know? I had been so careful...
"Please, Barty, don't mistake me to be a fool like your Father does. You yearn for a male role model. The Dark Lord fulfils that role for you, and all he asks from is unwavering loyalty." I smiled weakly up at Mother. She tilted my chin up higher as I lowered my gaze.
"You do what you think is right. You couldn't possibly disappoint me. Tell me, what caused the miscarriage, Barty?"
"You're wrong, Mother. You will hate me."
"Just tell me, Barty." Her voice was soft. Calming. Similar to Hermione's. Futile tears grew as snippets of Hermione's rape.
"I disobeyed my Master. I let my desires get in the way, and Hermione was the one who paid for it. I watched her, watched her as she braved publicized rape, with naught but a determined smile on her face, Mother. I watched her brave Malfoy and fucking Greyback!" I snarled. Her eyes softened as I buried my face in her neck, just as I used to when I was a small child. She soothed me with soft murmurs and noises. I clung to her tight. We stayed there for who knows how long before the Healer opened the door and approached us.
"Madame Crouch?" I moved back from Mother, wiping my eyes discreetly with the handkerchief that she handed me. The Healer smiled at my show of emotions.
"Is she alright?" The Healer nodded softly, wiping his own hands on a bloodied cloth. I gulped. My eyes darkened at the thought of my witch bleeding.
"We removed the foetus and cleansed her body. She'll have a week's worth of fitful sleep, but otherwards, she'll be fine. You may go in, Master Crouch. She was asking for you."
"What was it?" I asked, unable to trust my voice fully as of yet. The Healer frowned slightly.
"A baby girl, Master Crouch." I nodded stiffly to the Healer and murmured a quiet thank you to my Mother, who simply smiled. My heartbeat was a constant drumbeat within my chest as I approached Hermione, sitting by her bedside.
"Barty?" I smiled as she seemed to sense my presence, rolling over to face me. I smoothed her sweaty curls back off her face and gripped her clammy hand. She leant into the hand that now rested on her cheek, a tired smile gracing her fine features.
"Join me?" I looked down at her bed, glad that they had changed the sheets. I pulled the covers back and pulled her into my possessive embrace. She snuggled up against me, sighing softly.
"I love you." She whispered softly. I kissed the top of her head, the heat of her body chasing away my fears once more. I manoeuvred a hand around to rest on top of her stomach, protectively as a servant entered with a jug of water.
"For Miss Hermione." I nodded and excused her, wanting no one to look upon her. I was being selfish, but I wanted her to be looked upon by only my eyes for a week.
"I'm fine, Barty, I just need to rest." She argued.
"You're mine, witch. I don't want anyone looking at you until I say so." Despite the situation, she smiled.
"You love me?" She asked, breathless. I smirked.
"I do. Now sleep." I chastised softly, being tender towards her in an attempt to get her to sleep.
"Barty?"
"Sleep!" I ordered, trying not to yell.
"Was it a boy or a girl, Barty?" My body relaxed and I held her close, burrowing my face in her neck. I inhaled deeply, kissing her neck softly.
"A girl. A beautiful girl." With that said, Hermione closed her eyes, no longer fighting the urge to sleep.