A/N: Shortest chapter I've had in a while, but an important one.

Non-SOTD readers: I think I've mentioned before that vampires tried to turn Hermione into one of them last summer but, just in case, there it is again. Also, the leader, Caedis, received the Dementor's Kiss when they decided to crash the party.

Hermione woke up in the middle of the night with the sudden urge to vomit. She sat up and quickly crawled over to the bucket they had finally given her. The first time she had gotten sick they had wanted her to dwell in it, thinking it was funny. But it wasn't long before they realized vomit smells, especially when sitting out for a while, and they sent a house-elf to clean it up, giving her a bewitched bucket that emptied itself after each use.

By Hermione's second heave into it, she was suddenly very aware that someone was behind her. Then, for some odd reason, her hair was out of her eyes - as well as the line of fire - and held carefully behind her head.

As soon as Hermione was finished, she whipped around and was surprised to find a teenage boy standing there. He smiled. "Sorry. Didn't mean to invade your personal bubble. You just looked like you could use some assistance."

"Who are you?" she demanded.

"I am your night guard!" His smile widened, revealing two incredibly sharp-looking canine teeth.

Hermione gulped. "A vampire."

The boy closed his mouth. "I am. I hope that doesn't bother you."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "You're worried about me being bothered?"

"Of course," he said very seriously.

She smiled slightly. "Just don't try and turn me into one of you. I had a bad experience with that last year."

"Oh, was that you in Minsk?" he asked, his grin returning.

"It was."

"Yes, I had heard about that. Caedis got the word out to all vampires that there was to be an important ritual but, sadly, I was unable to attend. My duties here are pretty demanding and I have little time to fraternize." He paused. "I suppose it's for the best I couldn't make it. Wouldn't want to have turned out like Caedis, the poor bloke. Nothing worse than the Dementor's Kiss. I, personally, would much rather meet the sun."

Hermione stared at him curiously. "I'm sorry, but what duties could a vampire possibly have here?"

His eyes narrowed.

"I mean, other than being a night guard."

"Everything," he said. "I have worked for the Greengrass family for as long as I can remember."

Hermione felt another rush of vomit emerging. She reached for the bucket and, within a second, the vampire was behind her again, holding her hair.

"Thank you," she said when it passed.

"My pleasure."

Hermione settled herself against the wall and was a bit surprised when the vampire sat down next to her. Her cell door was wide open.

"Aren't you worried I'm going to make a run for it?"

He laughed. "If you are truly capable of outrunning me I believe you deserve your freedom."

"I deserve it, anyway."

"I am in no position to make that call," he said, straight-faced.

Hermione turned her head and took a good look at the vampire. He was very young, just a teenager when turned and not at all bad to look at. His hair was thick and corn-colored, his bangs falling freely in front of piercing emerald-green eyes. When he smiled he had two prominent dimples on each cheek and, even with his pale skin, Hermione could still make out the faint freckles on his nose leftover from his human years.

"How old are you?" she asked.

His face scrunched in thought. "Oh, I don't know. I assume I was around sixteen or seventeen when I was turned, but I'm not certain."

"Do you know what year it was?"

"Not the faintest idea."

"How long have you been here?"

He thought again. "I am not sure. Never had a very good concept of time. But I remember Master Greengrass was in his teens. Not much older than I look, I'd say."

"Are … are you a slave here?" she asked in an almost whisper, afraid she might offend him. "Is that why you must attend to your duties rather than participate in a vampire ritual?"

"I don't like to look at it that way," he said, all traces of his smile fading. "I see it more as a service. I was lost and alone, wandering around in the forest outside of this estate. I had no clue who or what I was and the Greengrasses found me, took me in and gave me blood. I don't even know how to feed without them." He smiled and laughed again. "I'm not a very good vampire."

Hermione tried to smile too, but she felt little joy when looking at this poor, pathetic soul.

"As it is, I really don't mind missing things like stupid vampire rituals. They shouldn't force someone to turn who doesn't want to. And, for your sake, I'm glad they didn't succeed. It is not quite as sexy and romantic as they make it out to be in stories. Have you ever seen a vampire feed?"

She gulped and shook her head.

"All for the better, then. It's not a very pretty sight." He paused and looked closely at her. Noticing the way her eyes drooped, he asked, "Are you going to go back to sleep now?"

Hermione shot her eyes back open. "No. I don't much feel like sleeping."

"Are you cold? I can go and grab you a blanket. Only, I'll have to take it back before that Zabini prick gets here."

"If it's not too much -"

He zoomed out of the room, darted up the stairs and returned, throwing a blanket on her lap.

"- trouble."

"None at all," he said, smiling.

Hermione stayed up the rest of the night with the vampire, forgetting about where she was for the first time since she had been brought here.

He really loved to talk and was actually very interesting. He had this weird fascination with plants and attended to the Greengrasses greenhouse. He had filled an entire section of it with nocturnal plants so he could see them bloom in their finest hour.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Hermione asked him, "Have you ever tried to find out who you were before you became a vampire?"

He shook his head. "I wouldn't even know where to begin looking for answers. I know no one and no one knows me."

"But you were found in this forest. Surely someone in the town nearby -"

"I know no one and no one knows me," he repeated. "My past is lost and I've accepted that."

When the vampire sensed the approaching sunrise, he helped Hermione settle onto the floor to get some sleep, and tucked the blanket securely around her.

"You're freezing," he said. "I won't let them take this from you."

"Thank you," she said, pulling it higher on her shoulders.

The vampire exited her cell. He looked up, his vampire ears listening as someone walked around the floor above them.

"I never asked," she said, forcing her exhausted eyes to stay open so she could look at him. "What is your name?"

"Ah, the one thing I remember about myself." The vampire looked back at her and flashed his dimply smile. "It's Ethan."

Her breath caught in the back of her throat.

"I would ask yours but I already know, Hermione. Until tomorrow night."

"Until tomorrow night," she whispered back to him.

Blaise came down the stairs and Hermione faked she was asleep, even while he argued with Ethan over the blanket. In the end, the vampire won. It seemed Blaise was somewhat frightened by him, as he should be. Ethan could rip his throat out in a second if he wished.

Hermione didn't want to jump to conclusions, Ethan being a common name and all, but his fascination with plants, as well as his age, had her wondering. Either way, she was positive him being discovered by the Greengrasses was no coincidence. They seemed to do a lot of horrible things to perfectly nice people.

XXX

It had been almost a week since Draco had last seen Hermione and the pain he felt from missing her was almost unbearable. There was a hole in his heart the size of Hogwarts, and he knew it could not be healed until she was back in his arms.

The worst part of it all was that they had no leads. The only potential lead they had had was Greta, and when she never showed up for work on Monday, Lucius had gone out looking for her, eventually finding her lifeless body on the floor of her flat. She had clearly been beaten and bruised for a great length of time before someone used the Killing Curse on her, meaning there was no way the Greta Hermione had run into was the real one.

Draco hated himself for not recognizing the fake Greta for what she was. He knew she had been acting differently towards him, probably since around the time of their wedding, but he had never questioned it. He should have been more cautious. He should have investigated every change in personality, no matter how small, and prevented this from happening.

Draco sat in his office at work, trying to get something, anything done. He had hoped it would help take his mind off of things. Thinx had moved to a bigger office and was supposed to officially launch on Monday. Sophie and Phillip had offered to delay it and help with the search for Hermione, but Draco wouldn't let them. At this point, they had done all they could do. It was up to the Aurors now, who Draco would be assisting every evening and on weekends. Several of them had complained about his presence, saying he was too emotionally involved. This was why he was no longer allowed to help them during work hours, and he wasn't even sure where to begin when he was on his own.

Phillip had donated cell phones to all Aurors who would accept them, hoping the constant communication would help them find Hermione all the sooner. It was just really hard to do that with absolutely no clue where to look.

Of course, not all of the Aurors accepted the gift. Several of them were still set in their old ways and refused to use any Muggle technology. Draco made a list of these Aurors, knowing it was very likely they could not be trusted.

He had also asked Harry to step up his spying on Pansy Parkinson. It was him, Longbottom, and someone Draco knew was in their year at school, but didn't know personally, named Ernie Macmillan, who were aware of the task.

But, as it was, Pansy wasn't doing much lately. She barely made an appearance, and when she did it was almost always with just Daphne, who looked horribly distraught and often cried over her marriage. Draco found mild amusement when Ernie informed him that Pansy had told Daphne the first step to repairing her marriage was to stop being a 'cheating whore'. An exact quote. At any other time in his life, he would have found this completely hysterical but, as of now, it barely made him crack a smile. If only they would talk about something he could use.

Harry had told Draco about this new magic they were currently testing in the Auror office that allowed them to follow people when they Disapparated. It was still in the testing stages but seemed to be pretty effective. Draco used it one night to follow Pansy, but she just went to her parents' home, and he had to Apparate out of there quickly so he wouldn't get caught.

Another time he followed Daphne, this time wearing Harry's invisibility cloak, just in case. She went to Blaise's. The two of them got into a heated argument where she tried to call it off, but it just ended with them shagging. Draco got out of there so fast, having absolutely no interest in witnessing the infidelity. Or just witnessing it, period.

He had come to the conclusion that his real problem here was following women. They were so self-absorbed that if they actually did know something about Hermione, it was doubtful they would bring it up unless it had to do with them personally.

"Draco."

He looked up to see Sophie standing in the doorway to his office.

"Ees everyzing all right?"

"As all right as it's going to be," he said, looking back down at his work.

She entered and shut the door behind her. "You do not 'ave to be 'ere, you know."

"Yes, I know. You've made it very clear, but I want to be here. I need to be here. The distraction is the only thing keeping me sane."

"Phillipe went by your 'ouse last night. 'E said you were not zere."

"I can't sleep there," he said, his throat tensing. "Not without her."

"So where 'ave you been sleeping?"

Draco shrugged. "Nowhere. I don't sleep. The only wizarding inn around here is the Leaky Cauldron and I can't sleep there without her either. I've just been … wandering."

"Wandering?"

He nodded.

"So you 'ave not slept at all?"

He shook his head. It wasn't that he hadn't tried. He just couldn't. Not without Hermione in his bed. He had become too dependent on her being there.

"You know you are always welcome to stay wiz me and Phillipe. I would be 'appy to make up ze spare bedroom for you."

"Thanks, but -"

"I eensist!"

Draco looked up and smiled softly. "I suppose I can give it a try."

She smiled back.

"I never asked. How was your anniversary weekend?"

Her smile faded. "Fine."

He looked at her sternly. "Don't lie to me, Soph."

She sighed. "I do not want to burden you wiz mine and Phillipe's problems. You 'ave enough to deal wiz."

"Believe me when I say, it would be no burden. Anything to keep me from thinking about …" he gulped … "the worst."

Sophie nodded. "Phillipe 'as not been ze same since … since we lost ze baby." Her eyes became wet but she quickly sucked it back. "I told 'im shortly afterwards zat I wanted to try again, and 'e 'as not touched me since."

"So what did you do all weekend?" he asked.

Sophie shrugged. "Nozing. Went sightseeing. Watched some Muggle movies." She sighed again. "Everyzing just feels wrong. I do not know what to do. I want my Phillipe back."

Sophie finally let go and began to cry. Draco got up from his chair and went around to the other side of the desk, giving her a hug. She wept into his shoulder for a moment before pushing him away.

"Do not comfort me, Draco! I came een 'ere to comfort you!"

"It's a two-way street, Soph. I want to be here for you just as much as you want to be here for me. Things will get better. He just needs time."

"'Ow much time?"

Draco shrugged. "It's hard to say. But I don't think right now is the time for anyone to be getting pregnant. He is not wrong in wanting to wait."

"Maybe," she said, biting her lip, "but why can 'e not just tell me zat?"

"Has Phil ever been good at communication?" He smirked.

Sophie finally let herself relax and smiled. "You are right." She stood up. "You are staying wiz us for ze entire weekend, so pack accordingly. And get back to work." She winked and then left, shutting the door behind her.

As soon as she was gone, Draco went over to his window. He had been keeping it together pretty well today but, now, after seeing Sophie cry, he couldn't hold it in any longer. His knuckles turned white as he gripped hard onto the windowsill, once again overcome with horrible thoughts about what might be happening to Hermione.

He had been so completely selfish when he married her, despite the prophecy. Not once had he thought the person most endangered by it was her. It should have been him. If the situation was reversed, she would know what to do to help him. She was the smartest person he knew. But he … he was completely useless. Everything he tried was a failure.

The only solace Draco found in all of this was that he had friends like Sophie by his side. He knew she would not rest until Hermione was found, because she loved her almost as much as he did. At least he wasn't alone in his grief. So many people loved her, and they would fight for her. No matter what.

XXX

Hermione woke up on Saturday morning, very aware that the night before had marked exactly one week spent in this cell. Other than always having a guard, they had pretty much left her alone down here, unsure of what they were supposed to do now that word of her disappearance had become public. Even using the Imperius Curse was now too great of a risk. Even she knew that.

Someone opened her cell door and Hermione sat up, mildly surprised to see Pansy Parkinson walking in with a tray of some very disgusting looking food.

"I was wondering when you were going to show up, Parkinson."

"Yes, well, they only told my family about this massive fuck-up last night. Now it's my job to watch your stupid Mudblood arse all day."

"To get to know me so you can use Polyjuice Potion?" Hermione asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Pansy grimaced at the expression. "Don't do that. You look too much like Draco when you do and I really can't stomach that."

Speaking of which, the smell of that food she was holding was making Hermione sick. She crawled over to her bucket and began to vomit.

Pansy sighed impatiently behind her before putting down the tray, walking over and grabbing Hermione's hair. She didn't stay and hold it like Ethan did but, when she removed her hands, Hermione realized her hair was no longer getting in the way. She had tied it back for her.

"Ethan told me you would be needing that."

"You know him?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Of course. I've known Daphne since we were in diapers. We both had crushes on him when we were younger. Then we aged past him and it just got creepy."

"They treat him as cruelly as most wizards treat house-elves. It's not right," she said, heaving, yet again, into the bucket.

"I agree. He deserves far more respect than a house-elf."

"That's not … ugh … what I meant."

"Do you have the stomach flu or something?"

Pansy took out her wand and waved it at her. This made Hermione's stomach twist awkwardly and she vomited even more.

Pansy pursed her lips. "Guess not."

"It's just stress."

"Seems more like you're pregnant."

Hermione froze.

"My cousin got morning sickness pretty badly. The name is a lie, you know. She got sick all fucking day. Bloody annoying as hell."

"I … I'm not pregnant."

"Are you sure?" asked Pansy. "Because it really seems like you are."

Hermione moved off of the bucket and used to bottom of her shirt to wipe the sweat off of her face.

"And it looks like you've gained a little weight there," she added, pointing at Hermione's exposed stomach.

Hermione pulled her shirt down quickly. "It's impossible. I take a potion to prevent that."

"The Ortus Imperium potion that you're supposed to take every six months?"

Hermione nodded.

"And when did you last take it?"

"I was due to take it three months ago," she said automatically.

"But when did you last take it?" Pansy asked again.

"I just told you. Three months ago."

Pansy sneered. "You didn't say you took it. You just said you were due to take it. Your wedding was three months ago, wasn't it?"

Hermione looked at the other witch and nodded again.

"So isn't there a chance with everything you had going on, preparing for your wedding and all, that maybe, just maybe, you forgot to take it?"

Hermione's lips slightly parted as she finally started to wonder. But she quickly shook it off. "No. I would never forget something like that. I never forget anything."

"But there's a possibility you did. You had a lot going on. Anyone could make that mistake."

"Not me. I … I couldn't," she said, sounding a lot less sure of herself.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Everyone makes mistakes, Granger."

"Malfoy," she corrected.

"I refuse to acknowledge that." She paused. "Just admit that maybe it's a -"

"SHUT UP!" shouted Hermione, covering her ears. "I'm not pregnant! I'm not …" Oh Merlin. She totally and completely was. Hermione swallowed hard but nothing could stop her from crying. "No …"

"I would say yes."

"NO!" she repeated louder, a fire burning in her eyes as she looked at the other witch. "I need to get out of here!"

She jumped up. Pansy took a step back.

"Let me out of here!" she screamed, charging for the other witch.

"STOP!" shouted Pansy, holding her wand out in warning. "I … I don't want to hurt you!"

Hermione darted for the open cell door but Pansy grabbed her and pulled her back.

"Don't make me use my wand! Please, don't make me use my wand!"

"Why? You don't want to kill another baby, Parkinson?" spat Hermione. "Forget all about the person carrying it!"

Pansy was surprisingly strong for someone so small, and managed to pin Hermione beneath her.

"Let me go! I can't be here!" Hermione cried. "If it's true, I can't find out like this! I need to be at home with my husband! Please, I'm begging you! Let me go to him! Let me go!"

"Pansy, what's going on down there?" someone called from the stairs.

Pansy moved off of her and ran out of the cell, quickly slamming the door behind her.

Hermione sat up and clutched the bars. "Please, Parkin -" She took a deep breath. "Pansy, don't tell them. They cannot know about this. No one can know about this."

"Pansy!" Blaise emerged from the stairs and ran over to her. He looked down at Hermione as she tried to wipe her eyes clean. "What's going on?" he asked.

Pansy looked down at Hermione, her face showing pity for a split second before her lip curled and her eyes hardened. "Stupid Mudblood tried to attack me. That's all. Nothing I couldn't handle."

"Good girl," said Blaise, shooting sparks at Hermione's fingers so she was forced to remove them from the bars. "If she tries something again, feel free to hit her with the Cruciatus Curse. Everyone is feeling little concern for her health right now."

"Without hesitation," said Pansy, smiling.

Blaise eyed Hermione one last time with disdain before heading back up the stairs. As soon as he was gone, Pansy went and sat against the wall.

"Thank you," said Hermione, looking at her with watery eyes.

"Don't mention it. Ever," Pansy added, almost threateningly. "You aren't going to be able to hide it for much longer, you know."

Hermione said nothing. She moved to the back of her cell, lied down and wrapped herself securely in the blanket Ethan had given her. She turned her back to Pansy so the other witch couldn't see her cry. With one hand on her stomach, Hermione wept on the floor for the better half of the day. This was, perhaps, the worst thing in the world that could have happened right now. How could she have been so careless? What an awful time to bring a baby into the world.

Now, more than ever, she was determined to get out of her and return to Draco. Not just for her, but for the child that very well might be growing inside of her.

Just the thought of it made Hermione feel sick. She quickly got up, grabbed her bucket, and vomited.

"You repulse me," Pansy said faintly behind her.