A/N: SO SORRY! OMG! IT'S BEEN TOO LONG SINCE I'VE UPDATED THIS! FORGIVE ME? PLEASE? Anyway... NEXT CHAPTER! I hope this is alright. I hope you all enjoy. Is Hermione pregnant? Well, you'll find out in this chapter.

Chapter 12

September 28th 1996

Hermione sat quietly in the library on a Saturday trying to get her homework done, and it seemed she wasn't the only one. Other students, mainly Ravenclaw's, were milling about. Taking books and trying to get things done so they could possibly have a moment to themselves later on and a free Sunday. While other students were going to rush at the last minute, getting a poor grade or failing completely. Oh well.

She sighed to herself as she flipped through her potions text. Scouring down a list of ingredients for the Draught of Living Death. Her birthday had come and past, with her barely knowing. She was now seventeen, and the only way she had even known the day of her birth had popped up, was the hugs and well wishes from her only friends now; Pansy, Theo, Blaise, Ginny, and Luna. Malfoy had given her some sort of nod, but other than that...

She was grateful there wasn't some big birthday bash, that someone had taken into account how much she hated celebrating the day of her birth. It was just a day, and she wasn't fond of opening presents. Even more so now that she didn't have her parents around.

She looked up when she heard some guys goofing off while they came into the library. About ready to shush them, until she saw just who they were. Harry and Ron also paused when they noticed her. They didn't have to be shushed after all. They quietened, and then hung their heads before going on their merry way, pushing each other as they now goofed silently.

They hadn't even tried to talk to her after her outburst in the great hall. She thought maybe the next couple of meals would be held in silence. But, days past and they just looked at her then looked away. She felt betrayed. She felt abandoned... Those boys had been her best friends for almost six years, they'd been through so much, and they didn't even care. They didn't even want to know what had happened to her.

It hurt. It really did. How could they? How could they just give up on her after what happened with Cormac? After they knew that something terrible had almost happened with that boy. Had that been too much, that they didn't want to hear the rest?

She tossed the thought of them away. She couldn't deal with it. She was done. Too much was already on her plate. Anymore wallowing on the loss and she'd take something sharp to her skin. She had friends. One's who actually cared and defended her, who stuck with her when everyone was calling her a whore.

She smiled when Pansy and Blaise plopped down into the seats in front of her and Luna took the one beside her. They whispered small greetings and Blaise muttered something about taking a bludger to some heads. She didn't have to look to see just whose heads he was referring to. Because she too wanted to do just the same at the moment. But, then Luna's dreamy smile calmed her and she put herself back into her work.

/-/-/-/

Hermione finally left the library when dinner came around. Her stomach was churning and in need of food. It was the only thing that made since when she was trying not to think about what it really could be. It was a horrific thought and she just wanted to cast it away, like it was a nightmare and not a possible reality.

She sat at the end of the Slytherin table with her only friends surrounding her. The only people she knew who really cared.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Theo push a lock of hair behind Ginny's ear, only for the redhead to blush as bright as her hair. The scene was so sweet, so utterly intimate and private that Hermione felt guilty for looking.

Her stomach grumbled silently when her food appeared. Mistaking it for hunger, she took her first bite. The smell and taste hit her like an Unforgivable. The potato in her mouth laying on her tongue, only it wasn't a savory taste, and the smell... It nearly knocked her over with sickness. Slowly she spit it out in her napkin, getting worried glances from her friend.

"'Mione, are you okay?"

"She's turning green."

"I think she's gonna be sick..."

Hermione jumped up and ran from the table and out of the Great Hall. She barely made it out the front doors and into the night air before she bent over violently, coughing up and gagging on the food she'd eaten that morning, now acidic and vile.

She flinched when she felt a touch on her back, and then felt her hair being pulled back from her face by nimble fingers. She had half a mind to pull away from whoever was helping her, but she couldn't. Not until it was over. And even then she was surprised by who was helping her, even though he was in her group of friends. Blaise Zabini's brown (nearly black) eyes penetrated her and she could almost feel his worry.

Before she could wipe her mouth with the back of her hand, he held out a handkerchief for her to take.

"Thanks," she said, quietly and dabbed her mouth. Feeling embarrassed and self-conscious under his scrutiny. She found the embroidery on the cloth interesting and traced the intricately sewn letters with her thumb. 'B.M.Z'.

"Are you alright, Hermione," he asked her, his voice soft, but inquisitive. It seemed to soothe her in a way, but not enough to make her look at him.

"I'm fine," her reply was rather curt, much more stern then she had intended.

"You know, people always seem to say that when their not," Blaise told her and she was again surprised by his tone, by his very appearance of being there with her now. Instead of lashing back with a fiery retort, his voice was smooth and gentle. "You have friends, we're here for you."

She looked up when she heard his retreating footsteps and the sound of the large doors closing behind him. Now, all alone, she couldn't help thinking; Yeah, for how long?

/-/-/-/

September 30th, 1996

Two days later Hermione was struggling with her nausea. Of course it was a Monday and she was in Potions listening to Professor Slughorn droll on and on about how wonderful Harry's potion was and all she wanted to do at the moment was vomit. She knew she wasn't sick. She knew it. But she couldn't handle the thought that she was with child, and a Death Eater's child at that. One who killed her parents and then... and then...

She slapped a hand over her mouth and stood up from her seat next to Lavender.

"Hermione?"

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione didn't listen to her name being called or the ruckus that filled the room after she ran out of it, trying to make it to the lavatory, but having to duck behind a statue instead. One hand holding her up against the cemented figure while her breakfast was forced out of her stomach.

"Oh, that is horrid!" A painting yelled, appalled. "You should have better manners than that, girl!"

Hermione didn't look up, her eyes shut tightly as she battled the rolling waves of nausea, taking deep breathes and counting back from ten.

"Leave the girl alone Maphius," a woman's voice scolded the other. "She's obviously not well."

She heard a unhappy 'hmph' follow that and then silence.

Oh, the silence was wonderful, but the stench of what her stomach just produced was rank and she was once again bent over.

No, she wasn't sick. She did not have the flu. As much as she wished she was dying from an incurable illness, she wasn't. She could take the terrible news of dying from the plague or maybe a dark curse, but the thought of being pregnant only made her sick again.

/-/-/-/

Lunch time came around and Hermione found herself in her rooms, snuggled up in her bed. She wondered if the gossip mill started yet. Undoubtedly, Lavender had told nearly everyone she knew about what had happened in Potions. The girl couldn't keep her mouth shut if her life depended on it. Which brought up the fact that no important information should ever be confided to her during the impending war, because she wouldn't be able to keep her trap shut if captured.

Hermione only felt a pinch of guilt for that thought. But, it no sooner faded away when Ginny and Pansy both walked into her room. The looks on their face told her everything. Lavender sure did work quick.

She was quiet as they sat down on the edges of the bed on either side her her, caging her in, not allowing her an escape. She sighed and her eyes nearly started watering then and there. Her fingers itched to pull at a loose threat on her shirt.

"Are you pregnant?" The first question sounded forced and Hermione looked to Ginny, the tears shining in her brown eyes as the redhead looked overly worried. She shrugged her shoulders. While she guessed she was, she still wasn't positive.

"Cormac?" Pansy asked, but before either girl could start going on about him, Hermione shook her head. Cormac hadn't gotten far enough. "The attack this summer, then?"

Hermione's nod was a tight jerk and she wiped away the couple of tears that slid down her cheeks silently.

"Hermione, what happened this summer?" It was Ginny again and while the redhead knew about Hermione's parents and that something else had happened, no one knew the details.

There was a long moment of hesitation, but when Hermione did open her mouth she couldn't stop. Tears flowed freely now as she told, in great detail, what happened to her. Everything. How they killed her parents, how she was beaten and broken down, only to be defiled and beaten some more for good measure.

Pansy and Ginny both had red faces and tear stained cheeks as they cocooned Hermione between them and rocked her, until there were no more tears for any of them to cry.

"Who was the Death Eater, 'Mione?" Pansy asked, stroking Hermione's hair like a mother would her child.

But she couldn't say it, she couldn't speak his name. She shook her head and turned into Ginny's embrace as the youngest Weasley looked over to Pansy. The both of them utterly overwhelmed with the severity of what Hermione was put through and powerless as to what to do. They didn't have a name, so they couldn't go after him, and what could two teenage girls do, exactly? Well, if they thought about it long enough, they'd find a way and make a plan.

When Hermione woke up the next morning, Pansy was sitting at the end of the bed and Ginny was looking over a tray of food. It was a... Tuesday. What were they doing just sitting around? Looking to her clock she jumped up. What was she doing still in bed at nine-thirty? They all had classes they needed to get to. She didn't bother speaking to either of them, rushing about to find some clean robes and then checking her hair in the mirror quickly, before deciding it was a lost cause anyway.

She picked up her book bag and was finally stopped as she closed in on the door.

"Hermione." Pansy stood in front of the door now, arms crossed.

"I have classes," she said, not looking her in the eye. She hadn't forgotten about the night before and now she was afraid they would treat her differently. Why wouldn't they? What stopped them from acting like Harry and Ron?

"We talked to Dumbledore," said Ginny.

Hermione's head snapped up and she glared at her redheaded friend. "How dare you? How dare you tell him anything!" she screeched, her face nearly crimson with a growing rage.

"We didn't tell him anything," Pansy added quickly. "The old quack already knew."

Hermione's shoulders stayed tense, but only for a moment. They soon went slack and she backed up and sat down on her bed, holding her head in her hands.

"He said he talked to all of your Professors," Ginny began again. "You don't have to go to class..."

She raised her head to look at her friends, knowing their was a 'but' coming.

"...but, you have to see Madam Pomfrey."

She started shaking her head before Ginny could finish the sentence. "No, I can't," she said. "I can't. Because then if I see her. She will just confirm it and that will make it real. It will make it real. I don't want it to be real," she said, unable to stop the sudden tears. "I don't want... I don't want to carry a Death Eater's child! I don't want a part of him in me!"

There was a heavy silence after that, aside from Hermione's sobs. Both girls looked at each other, unable to hide their own tears, and also not wanting to be the one's to tell Hermione it was illegal to 'rid' herself of the child. A sentence that would be a wizards lifetime in Azkaban, and if she went crazy after a hundred years she would be taken to Scarlett Shadows Insane Asylum for Witches and Wizards.

Pansy stepped forward and Hermione felt the bed indent beside her. "You'll have to go sooner or later. There's no use in prolonging it."

Hermione shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut, as she tilted her face to the ceiling, hugging her book bag close to her chest.

"Not today. Okay? Just... Not today."

/-/-/-/

October 4th, 1996

Hermione didn't go to Madam Pomfrey that day. Or the next day. Or the day after that. If took her a couple more days and a couple more insistent urges from Ginny and Pansy before she ever started on the path to the Hospital wing. She didn't want to bring anyone with her. She could only handle one pitying face, to which would be Madam Pomfrey. She didn't want to see her friends look at her like that too. Though, she was sure when they found out, they would anyway.

She sighed when she got to the door and she stared at it for the longest time. Debating on turning around and running back to her room. Her fingers played with the hem of her school shirt. Gulping lightly when she heard the nurse's voice on the other side. It was now or never, wasn't it? There was no one else to go to. It was better to get it over with, if she took Pansy's words into consideration. She looked down at her stomach, still flat, nothing there. No movement to make her feel otherwise. Slowly she rested her hand over the place where there was possibly, unquestionably, without a doubt, a child. Growing. A Death Eater's child. A rapist's child. A murderer's child.

Once again she ran over to a statue and lost her lunch. The sound of her retching obviously bringing the attention of Hogwart's nurse. Hermione never truly knew how soft and soothing Madam Pomfrey's hands were until they were holding her hair back and caressing her neck.

"Oh, you poor child. I feared this."

When Hermione finally cooled down, she was led into the Hospital wing and sat up on a bed in the private room for special cases. She felt numb now, as Madam Pomfrey waved her wand about casting charms and the like. At one time Hermione would have been interested in the incantations. But now she was just... Tired.

When the woman stopped, Hermione looked into eyes that were pools of pity. The very look she detested in her friends.

She glanced back to her knees.

"Is there anything you can do?" she asked. When she was met with silence she continued. "A magical abortion or... Is there anything?" She wasn't surprised when she felt the tears form in her eyes and she looked at Madam Pomfrey for her answers.

The older woman shook her head. "I'm sorry, Miss Granger. Abortion is illegal in the magical community. The only thing to do is-"

"No!" Hermione shook her head, unable to stop the shout, or the fountain of tears. Covering her faace with her hands as she cried.

"Oh dear..." Madam Pomfrey moved forward and embraced Hermione. "I'm so sorry. If I could I would. You do not deserve any of this."

/-/-/-/

Draco hadn't meant to eavesdrop. No, he hadn't meat to do that at all. But, when he saw Madam Pomfrey leading Hermione into 'the room', he couldn't help but follow. Just what was going on? He'd noticed something was wrong. She wasn't eating right, one. Two, her complexional was paler than normal. And three, Blaise had told him of the incident when she was puking her guts out.

He didn't understand the spells the medi-witch was casting, they were foreign to him. Not the usual healing spells and charms. But then he heard her voice.

"Is there anything you can do? A magical abortion or..."

Draco nearly fell through the door when he heard that, his grip on the frame sliding and he caught himself before he could make a fool of his person. An abortion? Hermione Granger was pregnant? His- No! Potter and Weasel's Granger was pregnant?

"No!"

Her shout echoed around him, obviously this was not good news.

"Oh dear... I'm so sorry. If I could I would. You do not deserve any of this."

The tone of the old witch's voice and the soft sobs from Granger told him all he needed to know. Someone hurt her. Someone hurt Hermione really bad. The look on his face was horrific. Absolutely terrifying. If he still bullied the poor youngsters of Hogwart's they would be running in fear.

TBC