I don't own Harry Potter, it all belongs to J.K., and I don't make any money off this fic.
AN: Ok, so I've run out of my stored chapters and am back to the write/post situation. Which means even slower updates, ugh. But we are nearing the home stretch, trust me. And yes, there is going to be a bloody happy ending. Sort of. Yes. No. Maybe? Guess you'll just have to wait and see, same as me! ;)
Harry continued to pester Hermione about Draco until it was already March, and Ron's birthday. With sniffs of disdain directed at Harry, Hermione managed to avoid Lavender long enough to slip Ron his present; but after that she left him alone, much to both Harry's and Ron's chagrin.
Ron looked after Hermione's retreating form as she made her way from the common room and sighed. Harry patted him on the shoulder.
"Cheer up, mate. I'm sure she'll come around yet." If his tone of voice was a bit dubious, Ron didn't notice.
"A book on quidditch," he said as he tore the paper off. "Of course. It's such a Hermione present, isn't it?" he asked Harry, who smiled.
"I shudder to think what she'll give me. Probably a book on saving the world and defeating your worst enemies."
"Nah. Hermione's gone soft, Harry," Ron said, a wistful expression on his face as he ran a hand over the cover of the book. "Not on us, I know," he qualified hastily as Harry raised his brows. After all, she'd been particularly cagey with them both for the last several weeks. "With that lot. You know who I mean," he muttered.
Harry patted his shoulder again. "It's probably just the hormones."
"No, it's not," Ron replied. "We both know it. She really likes that ferret. I just can't believe it."
"Well, she is, er, in a family way with him," Harry said as delicately as possible. "Although I'm positive he only did it just to get on her good side. He's bloody up to something, I know it."
"Nice to know I'm not the only one mad about that," Ron joked lamely and Harry shrugged.
"What can we do about it, though? She's our best friend."
"I know," Ron said, his voice mournful. "Just have to put up with it for now, I suppose." Neither pointed out the fact that they'd hardly been putting up with anything. He turned to Harry again. "You really think she'll come around?"
"I know she will," Harry replied firmly. "Hey, how about having some of your birthday chocolate? Bet that'd make you feel better."
Ron brightened some. "Yeah. Yeah, it would. Come on, then."
And with their arms about each other's shoulders, they trudged up to their room.
Hermione was fuming over her two so-called best friends again when she ran into Draco. But looking over his pale, narrow features as he helped her pick up her things, she felt as if a weight lifted off her shoulders and her bad mood disappeared as suddenly as it had arrived. She decided not to puzzle over what exactly that meant for her feelings about Draco. After all, she already knew she loved him, or thought she did; what was the harm in his being her rock, her all around remedy? That was what people who were in love did, wasn't it? Relied on each other? She sighed and leaned against him.
Draco looked over at her curiously as he finished stacking her things. "Want me to carry them for you?" he asked and Hermione nodded gratefully, then blushed.
"That is, if you don't mind- I just bumped into you, after all; if you're busy I don't want-"
"Hermione," he said gently, "it's ok. I'm not busy." And he wasn't exactly. Sure, he'd been on his way to the Room of Requirement to work on the cabinet some more, but that could wait. He wasn't exactly eager to finish, was he? Let Death Eaters into the school to wreak havoc and place hundreds of innocent people in danger?
He'd much rather carry Hermione's books for her.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
"My room," she admitted. "I need an escape."
"So early in the day?" he teased. "Miss snogging me already?"
"Draco!" she exclaimed and smacked his arm lightly. But she was laughing as she did it and he grinned at her.
"So who was it this time?" he asked.
Hermione glanced at him and hugged her bag closer to her chest.
"Just…everything," she said. The weight she'd felt disappear earlier settled back firmly on her chest and she sniffled some. Why were her friends so dumb? And when her baby was one of theirs to begin with, too? And when Draco was the only one who was ever nice to her, or treated her regularly, apart from Ginny, who didn't count because she was a girl…and then burst into tears. Draco nearly dropped all her books, he was so startled. Some students passing them shot him dirty looks and he stared at Hermione helplessly.
"Hermione, don't cry- I'm sure it's nothing, I-"
"Nothing?" she wailed. "No-nothing? Harry hates you, a-and Ron hates you, and neither of them w-will listen to me about anything!" she finished with a particularly large sob.
More passing students shot him even more dirty looks and Draco managed to glare at a few of them before turning back to Hermione.
"Hermione, why don't we go to your room? You can have some tea and wipe your face and-"
"My face? Is something wrong with it? Don't like it when I cry?" she suddenly said, turning on him. But seconds later her look of anger collapsed beneath more tears and she clung to him, burying her face against his robes.
Oh, hell. Maybe the Room of Requirement had been the better choice this time. He held back a fretful sigh and managed to balance her books in one arm; then pet her hair with one hand while nudging her in the right direction with an elbow.
"Come on," he said. "Come on. Just a little further. You'll feel much better when you've some privacy. There we are."
He continued to murmur gently to her until they reached her staircase and then he managed to help her up the stairs and not simultaneously send himself hurtling back down them to his death.
With all of her things now piled in his arms while she opened her door, he made a series of displeased mumphing noises until he finally staggered into her room and dumped all of the items onto her table. Hermione didn't even bother to look at him, or get upset at his unruly manhandling of her possessions. Instead, she climbed onto her bed, stuck her face into a pillow, and commenced with more sobbing. Her ass was, adorably, sticking up in the air with her legs bunched under her like that, and Draco wondered if he should comfort her some more. While he stood and debated, he lost his chance.
Hermione rolled over onto her back and then lay there, staring up at the canopy.
"What's wrong with me?" she wailed.
"You are pregnant," Draco offered and she sniffled some more.
"I know that, you idiot," she retorted, but there was no venom behind the insult. Draco decided to dare sitting on the bed after all. He patted her knee.
"And your friends are teenage boys. We can't help being complete morons from time to time. And I am a Death Eater, technically, even if I've gone double agent. So it's not as if they're wrong about me. See?"
"So, essentially, you're telling me there's nothing I can do about any of this, except hope the war ends sooner, rather than later, and that we come out on the winning side."
"And that they mature before the age of thirty-five," he added.
She snorted. "I'm sorry for attacking you that way."
"Don't worry about it," he replied. "Aside from the rest of Hogwarts now being convinced I make you cry on a regular basis, nothing happened. I'm used to it, really."
She cried a little more, though she was smiling now. She wiped her face and propped herself up on her elbows.
"Thank you."
"It's my pleasure, honest," he said. "It beats thinking about my task, anyway."
"Great," Hermione murmured. "I beat out Voldemort on the list of terrible things you have to endure."
Draco took one look at her face and suddenly burst into laughter. Moments later, Hermione joined him.
"That does sound ridiculous, doesn't it?" she asked, gasping and holding her sides.
"It's the st-stupidest thing I've ever heard," Draco replied, unable to look at her without bursting into fresh rounds of laughter. "Being an unwed teenage father ranks lower than Death Eater on list of undesirable activities! Can't you see the article in Witch Weekly now?"
Hermione bit her lips to keep from laughing, but she felt as if her face were splitting. "Stop, it's too much-"
"Can you imagine showing something like that to the Dark Lord himself? Oh, Merlin, he'd piss himself, he'd be so insulted!"
"Y-yes! Oh, lord, the Prophet would have a field day! 'Voldemort promotes abstinence in teens, says teenage pregnancy detracts from business of muggle torture!'" Hermione choked out, sending Draco into new fits. "'Ministry encourages sex education among teens as distraction from dark arts!'"
"Oh, Merlin, stop-"
They clung to one another and laughed until their sides hurt, until they'd cried, until they were an incoherent mess lying on her bed, the last fits of giggles leaving them gasping for air.
It was about that time Draco remembered he was, in fact, lying on her bed with her and he thought she was very cute and wanted to snog her pretty much all the time. Even if the kid was Ronald Weasley's. That little brat was going to be his and it would never wear second hand clothing, or use second hand wands and he would give it everything it ever wanted…
Hermione gave a small sigh and he looked up at her and smiled gently, one hand splayed across her stomach.
"What are you thinking?" she asked curiously. It wasn't that he never did sweet things like that, it was more that they'd never really talked about the baby as a reality. She was always some amorphous vision ten years in the future, it seemed like. When the war was over and they'd already settled the question of parentage and having to hide things versus not hide them. And somehow, between the two of them, Ron had never come up.
He glanced back to where his hand was resting on her bump and he rubbed it across her stomach softly, then leaned up and kissed her cheek. She flushed.
"I was thinking about buying the little bint everything her heart desires."
"Draco!" Hermione laughed and swatted his arm. "Don't call her that. She's going to be a sweet baby girl. I don't want her to grow up answering to offensive names."
"Even if they're meant with affection?"
Hermione swatted him again, but he laughed and rolled out of reach. She watched his back.
"So that's what you were really thinking?"
He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck, suddenly embarrassed.
"Yeah," he admitted. "I was. About how she'd never have to use second hand wands." He ducked his head and then glanced at her again. She was still lying back on the bed, watching him with a mild expression.
"You're not mad?"
"Draco, why would I be mad? I think it's sweet. Not that I agree with spoiling her, but…it is sweet of you."
He looked mollified and gave her an almost bashful glance. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," she replied mockingly and then scooted across the bed to sit next to him.
"Well that was a mistake," he said immediately as he looked at her blushing face and wide smile.
The smile disappeared and she raised her brows. "Why? I just wanted to sit next to you- oh!"
Her words were lost to the room as Draco tackled her back to the bed and covered her mouth with his.
Oh, yes. This beat being the Dark Lord's chosen one, any day.
Someone was buzzing her room. It was nearly eleven, she'd been fast asleep, and someone was buzzing her room. Hermione sat up groggily, wondering who in their right minds would come bothering a pregnant teenage witch in the middle of the night. She felt an arm across her middle and looked over to see that Draco was lying on the bed with her.
Oh. So he was still there- and they were both still dressed, thank Merlin. She tried to remember what had happened earlier and it came back in a flood of warm feelings. Right…he'd come up to her room with her and stayed half the day as they'd talked and done work and giggled about the most inane things. And snogged. And exchanged quiet dreams about the baby inside of her. The baby Draco wanted.
She felt her face flush again and she leaned over him, landing a quick kiss on his cheek, before she slid from the bed and made her way to the door. Answering the buzzer, she heard Ginny's breathless voice, then the pounding of feet upon the stairs. A second later she was opening the door to her red-headed friend.
"Ginny?" she asked quietly. "What is it? Why are you out so late?"
"Ron," Ginny said breathlessly and Hermione noticed her face was pale, worried. "Oh, Hermione- you have to come right away."
"What is it?" Hermione had sudden visions of Ron impaling himself on a broomstick, or transfiguring himself into something terrible.
"Poisoned," Ginny managed and began tugging on her friend's arm. "Please, Hermione."
"I-" Hermione found she couldn't speak as a mindless terror for her friend and once lover- even though he'd hurt her- filled her. She cast a glance behind her at the bed, where Draco lay, hidden by shadows. Then she turned back to Ginny and gave a hasty nod. The other witch pulled her from her room and Hermione barely managed to check she had her wand and key before the door was closed and they were hurrying back down the stairs, away from her warm and cozy bed. Away to some strange horror that made her stomach churn with fear.
From the darkness of the bed, Draco remained curled upon his side, though his eyes were open. He heard Ginny's frantic words. Heard as the witch he was giving everything up for ran to the aide of her former paramour. And the cheek where she'd pressed her lips to, just seconds before, burned.
Hermione flew along the corridor after Ginny, as quickly as she could manage on legs that were starting to feel the strain of their load.
"Ginny," she called, "please- slow down-"
"Oh, Hermione. I'm sorry. I've already been, I just…I'm so worried. I knew I had to come and get you right away."
"It's ok, Gin. Let's just slow down a bit, alright? I can't run the way I used to, much to my shame."
Ginny suppressed a laugh and the two hurried at a slightly less frenzied pace the rest of the way. Harry greeted them when they arrived at the medical wing, and Hermione reached for his hands. They held to one another tightly. Harry's face was grim.
"What happened?" Hermione asked, breathless.
"Snape and the others have already grilled me," he replied. "So I guess it doesn't matter if I tell you, or not."
"Oh, Harry, just say-"
"Ron was eating chocolates that were meant for me," he began and Hermione gasped. He dropped her hands and waved her into the infirmary. "No, they weren't poisoned. But they were laced with love potion."
"Who?"
"Romilda Vane," he said, waving a hand again.
"Oh, Harry, I told you-"
"I know!" he said. "But I didn't accept them! She slipped them into my things and Ron thought they were for him, so he had some."
"I bet that made Lav-lav awfully jealous," Ginny murmured and Harry and Hermione both glared at her. "What? Just trying to inject some humor into the situation. You think I'm not just as worried about him? He's my brother, no matter how much a git I think he is-"
"Ginny, it's ok," Hermione said, putting an arm around her as they approached Ron's bedside. He looked so pale and ill. Hermione felt her heart clench. Git or not, father of her child or not, he was still one of her dearest friends. She sat down next to him and turned to Harry again.
"So, what did happen, if it wasn't the chocolates?"
"I took him to see Slughorn," Harry said. "I thought he could do something for him. And he offered us some mead that was originally meant for Professor Dumbledore while we waited."
"You don't think Professor Slughorn-"
"I don't know what to think," Harry replied. "But first Katie, now this? Whoever it is doing these things is getting desperate. And they're terrible at it."
Hermione went very still at the mention of Katie. After all, she knew who was responsible for that much, and she knew who was supposed to be making attempts on Dumbledore's life. But Draco had been so torn up about that…she knew he had. They'd talked about it at length, over the break. She simply couldn't imagine that it had been him behind this new horror. And even if he had been, she was sure it was just an accident…after all, Dumbledore himself was aware of the attempts. No, neither wizard would have left that mead there if they thought real danger would occur. Would they? Unless Harry had been right all along…
Ron murmured something and Harry and Ginny looked on nervously as Hermione leaned forward and took his hand.
"Oh, Ron," she murmured. No, there was no way Draco could have meant this. He was turning his whole life around to avoid such things- poison, and murders. No, he had to be innocent. They trusted one another now, loved one another. There was no way…she glanced back up at her other friends.
"So the mead was poisoned."
Harry nodded. "Ron had a drink first and seconds later he was on the ground- he nearly died. He would have, if I hadn't known about bezoars."
Hermione pulled a face. She considered pointing out that Harry hadn't known about bezoars without the so-called Prince's help, but it seemed in poor taste. Ron's fingers moved slightly and she turned back to him, tightened her grip.
"I'm so sorry," she murmured. "I wish I'd been there. I should have been there. If I'd celebrated properly with you he mightn't have had those chocolates at all-"
Harry didn't respond and Ginny elbowed him before speaking, herself.
"You don't know that, Hermione. If Harry had paid more attention to all the presents he was getting from complete slags-"
Harry shook his head. "Sorry, I know you're right. But Hermione's right, too. We've been too distant this year. Everything that happened at the start…if we'd all been acting like proper friends maybe none of this would have happened in the first place."
Hermione rather agreed, though she knew he was thinking of Draco as the baby's father and not Ron. Still, she thought he was probably right. She gave a little sigh.
"I'll try to spend more time with you from now on," she murmured. Harry put a hand on her shoulder.
"Thank you."
Ginny fumed silently. She'd been desperately worried about her brother; she still was. But that didn't change the fact that he and Hermione were no good for one another.
Poppy moved up behind the lot of them and startled them all.
"Alright, I insist you all return to your dormitories. You may come back tomorrow and visit again, if you wish, but it is extremely late. Your house head made an exception just letting you in for a few minutes, tonight."
Hermione reluctantly let go of Ron's hand and then impulsively bent to brush a kiss on his brow. Then she turned to Harry and buried her face in his shoulder. He held her tightly.
"I know," he whispered. "I was terrified."
"I should have been there," she replied softly.
Harry, upon receiving a pitiful frown from Ginny, shook his head. "It's not your fault. I reckon Ron should've checked the box before he ate any in the first place. And Slughorn should have checked the Mead a long time ago. So don't worry too much. Ron will be alright. Come on, Ginny and I will walk you back."
To Hermione's horror, she felt herself starting to sniffle some and let herself be led away by the two of them, back to her room. She said good night to them both at the bottom of the stairs and then started up, sniffling the entire way.
It was only when she sat down at the table and leaned over it, burying her head in her arms and allowing herself to bawl like a baby, that she remembered who else was there.
"Hermione?" came a sleepy, but concerned voice from the bed. She whirled about and wiped at her cheeks.
"Draco! I for-forgot you were here. I'm s-sorry."
He frowned and sat up, then slid from the bed and walked over to her. He pulled out a chair and sat beside her.
"What is it? Is Weasley going to be-"
"Oh, Draco, he was poisoned! He nearly died! If Harry hadn't- I can't even think of it, it's too awful," she ended in a pathetic murmur and began crying again. Draco leaned over, touched her shoulder gently.
"I'm so sorry."
Hermione stilled and lifted her head. She gave him a suspicious look and was sorry for it the minute the words left her mouth.
"Why? You hate him."
Draco frowned. "I don't like him any, but he's your friend. Why would I ever want you to suffer that way? Why am I doing any of this, Hermione?"
She covered her face with her hands. "I know, I'm sorry too. It's just so distressing," she said, her voice high and tiny. She burst into a fresh round of tears. "Draco," she sobbed, "I have to know something."
He was immediately wary.
"What?"
"Was it…was it you who set the mead in Slughorn's rooms?"
Draco paled. "Mead?"
"Yes. It was a bottle of mead, meant for Dumbledore. Who else is supposed to be killing him but you?"
Draco sat back. "Hermione, I didn't know- I had no idea that was still- Slughorn was supposed to-" He stopped, floundering for words. She dropped her hands and stared at him again, cheeks tear-stained, eyes shining and red rimmed.
"Oh, Draco," she whispered.
"Hermione, you have to believe me," he said, leaning forward again. "I never meant for something like this to happen. Are you-" He swallowed hard. "Are you certain it was the mead?"
"That's what Harry said," she replied quietly.
"Oh my god," he mumbled and covered his own face, slumping down in the chair. "Oh my god. He really could have died. I could've killed someone without ever-"
He thrust himself back from the table and stood up on wobbly legs. He hated himself suddenly, more than he ever had before. Hated his life, the heritage of his father's father. He'd been right all along, that Hermione deserved better than him, that he was no good for her, that he wasn't cut out for this job. Look at what he'd managed to do, without ever meaning to! He'd nearly gotten one of her best friends a six-deep plot in the cold ground, had nearly caused her endless heartbreak.
"I have to go," he declared, voice hoarse with feeling.
Hermione looked up at him, tears still streaming from her eyes. "To your dorm? Yes, I…yes, that's probably best. It is rather late."
Draco licked his lips and watched her nervously for a few seconds before leaning down and brushing his lips along her cheek.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, and then he was gone, the door banging shut behind him.
"Draco-" Hermione called after him, but it was too late. With a weary sigh, she pushed up from the table and then tottered over to the door, shutting it tightly and locking it. Then she wandered over to her bed and flopped, fully clothed, onto the still rumpled covers where only hours before, she and Draco had been laughing merrily and enjoying confidences…among other things.
Her cheeks flushed and a second later she was crying again. Poor Draco, poor Ron. Poor Harry. Poor, pathetic all of them, in fact. She remembered her promise to Harry, that they would be friends again, the way they ought; and realized that Draco would need to know, in case he wondered why she was spending less time with him. Not that spending less time with him would be a terrible idea, necessarily. Tonight had brought home to her that no matter how in love she and Draco fancied themselves; no matter how noble his intentions in switching sides; this was a dangerous game they were playing. And people could and would get hurt, if they weren't more careful.
She sighed and rolled over, put a hand on her belly. She could feel the little one kick lightly, but it only made her more sad. What sort of world was she bringing this baby into? Intrigue, deception, danger…murder. She suddenly had the very real, terrible feeling that someone would end up dead before the year was out.
And she was terrified what that meant for them all.
With her mind full of dark thoughts, she managed to fall into an uneasy sleep; promising herself that in the morning, things would look better and she and Draco would talk again, would work it all out. But despite her hope, she kept her hands on her stomach, as if protecting the small life inside of her; and her face never relaxed into the peace of dreamless, deep slumber.
AN: Et voila! The promised drama. :)