Chapter 26


She was in a whirlwind of emotions from that point on. Voldemort never asked her to use Dark Magic again, but their intimacy continued. She would return in the evenings and learn in the ritual circle, then they'd move to the bedroom to read by the fire. She was still in her inferior place, perched on the ground by his feet.

It would build slowly. His hands were in her hair, teasing her and petting and coaxing her responses. From there, something in him would snap. He'd take the book from her hand and snap it shut before he moved in. He would pull her up on his lap and ravage her mouth before lifting her and bringing her to the bed. It became a near-daily occurrence, sex with him, and Hermione craved it. She craved his hands all over her, she craved the way he made her feel.

The guilt she hadn't felt that first day had returned with a vengeance though. After a second dose of the Nocturnus Potion the next day to counteract the dark magic effects, she had been gripped with guilt every time she saw Harry, Dumbledore, or any Order Member. She had cried so much when she had seen Harry that she had run away from class and hid herself in the Room of Requirement.

Draco was the one who found her. He didn't ask why she was crying, and she didn't volunteer the information, but she found a side of Draco that she hadn't seen before – he was genuinely kind. Sarcastic – yes, condescending – yes, but ultimately kind and understanding. He had comforted her without conditions, and he made her heart warm.

"I still think it's weird seeing you cry," Draco joked softly, pulling Hermione into his arms. She sobbed into his shoulder, desperate for comfort. "Why is it always because of Potter?"

She had run into their shared living space when she saw Harry after a particularly bad night, where an argument between her and Voldemort had ended in angry, passionate sex that just left her feeling dirty. Seeing Harry after that, after being so angrily taken by the enemy, it felt so wrong. So she had felt the tears well up.

Hermione sobbed a laugh. "It's not him. I just … I miss him."

Draco said nothing else, just rocked her until she calmed and murmured assurances and small jokes that always brought a sad chuckle to her lips. They were still Malfoy and Granger, but it was comforting that even a hated enemy could be a friend to her.

For a month, the cycle continued. Voldemort would seduce her, romance her, and wine and dine her. Inevitably, no matter her guilt from the day, she would give in and they would end up in bed. She'd return to the school the following morning to be comforted by either Severus or Draco, depending on what comfort she needed. Her position wasn't used by the Order, Voldemort didn't try to bring her into his fold, and she felt more like a student than the consort of the Dark Lord than she had in a while.

The change occurred at the end of February. She apparated to Hogwarts for her classes as normal and made her way to Transfiguration. Before she got there, though, she ducked into the girl's lavatory and vomited into the nearest toilet. Thinking it must have been from the apparation, she didn't pay it much mind. It happened again the next day, and she started worrying.

After a third morning with her head in the toilet, she went to see Madame Pomphrey. Hermione was ushered into a hospital bed and the kindly matron ran a diagnostic of her system. She turned white as she read the results.

"Miss Granger, wait here."

Madame Pomphrey never ran, but she hastened to her office faster than Hermione had ever seen her move before. She went through the possible diagnoses for regular vomiting that might cause that reaction – proximity to dark magic, excessive use of potions, etc – before she returned. What she hadn't expected was to see Professor Snape in tow, looking just as peaky as the matron.

"Miss Granger," Professor Snape greeted stiffly, without his regular warmth.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked timidly.

Madame Pomphrey hesitated, then sat at the end of Hermione's bed. "Miss Granger, when was your last menstrual cycle?"

Everything slid into place.

"No, no," Hermione stuttered out. "I can't be- not with him."

Madame Pomphrey looked on her compassionately. "You are. Seven weeks along."

"Seven weeks . . ." Hermione murmured. Eight weeks. She counted backwards, then froze. That was back the beginning. "The bonding."

"Miss Granger," Madame Pomphrey drew back her attention, "I understand how distressing this must be for you. No one blames you for becoming pregnant from a situation you had no control over. However, you do have . . . options."

"Options?" I looked at her, uncomprehending.

"I can brew you an effective Abortis potion within the day," Professor Snape announced. "Or, if you prefer, Madame Pomphrey can get the same results with a spell to induce an early labour. It is more painful that way, but fewer potential side-effects."

Involuntarily, she moved her hand to her stomach. She understood now; they wanted her to get rid of it. A baby. The baby that was growing inside of her. She knew Severus was probably right, at least about what she should do. She should abort it. Who knew what Voldemort would do if he found out she was with child, or what he would do with the child if he wanted it?

But the thought made her sick. Her parents had never been religious people, but she'd been raised with church every Christmas and Easter. She believed – to an extent – in the values she'd been taught through that tradition, including the sanctity of the life she was carrying in her. That belief had never been put to the test before.

She had thought the same when she was fighting at the Department of Mysteries with Harry. Is it right to kill someone who was trying to kill you, if murder was wrong? Surely it wasn't for any man or woman to judge someone's life worth it or not, and if no one could judge, how could she take someone's life? She had been thinking it through since Dolohov, nearly every day. The temptation to kill would be too strong if she hadn't.

And even if she could kill a full-sized Death Eater, would she be able to do that to a baby? A baby who'd know no different? It would be so easy to give in, to accept the induced abortion and end it. She would never need to tell Voldemort, she would not be the subject of ridicule for the school, and she would still be in control of her life. But what about the baby?

It deserved a chance to live. She couldn't be selfish with life.

"No," Hermione finally croaked, tears spilling over. "I can't."

"Miss Granger, I understand that it is a difficult decision," Madame Pomphrey said carefully, "but you must understand, Hogwarts is ill-equipped to handle this. We've never had a pregnant student thanks to the Founders' wards, and so I don't even know if the Headmaster would allow you to continue your studies. There is no precedent."

At the threat to her studies, she started to genuinely think about aborting the baby. The thought had her magic swirling violently around her, and she could now feel it; the baby had Voldemort's blood, and as such was part of the bond's protection. She would be forced to protect it the same as its father. The choice had been taken from her with the bond.

"I can't let you," Hermione said now, utterly fatigued. "Even if I wanted to, it's his blood. I'm bound to protect it."

That effectively silenced Madame Pomphrey.

"There are ways to circumvent the bond," Snape interjected in a low voice. "You would be compelled to protect your sprog, however if you were incapacitated or in some way rendered unconscious . . . There are ways."

"Don't call it a sprog," Hermione hissed. "And, just so you know, you're not exactly helping right now."

Severus tipped his head stiffly. "As you wish. Shall I call it the Dark Fetus?"

"Shut up!" Hermione shrieked, tears pouring.

"Severus!" Pomphrey admonished sharply. "Don't distress the girl!"

Snape drew his wand and summoned his Patronus, a silver doe.

"Headmaster, your presence is needed in the Hospital Wing," he said to the apparition before sending it off. "The Headmaster will be along soon, Miss Granger. Before he arrives, you had better decide if you truly want the child of the man most hated in the entire Wizarding World."

"It's a baby," Hermione argued, "not the next Dark Lord."

"It will be if your captor had his way," Severus pointed out in a low voice. "You must consider what will become of your offspring should we be unsuccessful in this fight."

His voice painted a grim picture in her mind. Her child ripped from her the moment it was born, raised by the likes of Bellatrix Lestrange. Even if she was allowed to keep her baby, it would grow up surrounded by Death Eaters who worshipped it's every step because of its father. A father who would relish in bringing the child up in the traditions of his followers, if he wanted it at all.

Did Voldemort want a child? If she was to tell him when he didn't want it, would he try to kill it himself? Would he view the child as a threat to his regime? Or an asset?

Hermione shook the disturbing thoughts away. Even if she needed to consider the thoughtless man who'd gotten her pregnant at their bonding, she couldn't act against her own conscious unless she wanted to live to regret it for the rest of her life.

"I can't, Professor, I just can't," she murmured, looking up at Severus again. "But I don't want to tell him."

There was a moment of consideration on his face before nodding. "It would reassure him of my loyalties to hear of it from me. But you may be setting yourself up for a fall; by not telling him yourself, he may assume you aren't planning on keeping the child or planning on hiding it. He may be angered."

"I can handle him angry," Hermione reassured him. "Would you be safe, telling him?"

"As safe as I ever am, Miss Granger," he replied stiffly.

Dumbledore chose that moment to walk through the entry of the Hospital Wing, dressed in a flamboyant purple outfit with bright blue, sparkly stars all over that looked every bit a Halloween costume for the sorcerer he was.

He greeted them cheerfully. "Good morning, everyone! What can I do for you this morning?"

Madame Pomphrey stood and whispered into the Headmaster's ear, and when his eyes flashed to hers in concern she was forced to look down in humiliating shame.

"I see," Dumbledore nodded to the nurse. "Thank you for your attention, Poppy. May Severus and I speak with Miss Granger alone, if you please?"

Madame Pomphrey pursed her lips at the Headmaster, eyes flashing to Hermione. "Miss Granger, if you're more comfortable with me staying-"

"I'm fine," she cut the nurse off hastily. It had been a month since she'd last seen herself as a rape victim in someone's eyes, and Madame Pomphrey wasn't helping. "I'll be fine."

Madame Pomphrey hesitantly nodded in acceptance and moved to close the privacy screen around the two authourity figures and Hermione herself. They were finally in private. That didn't mean that Severus didn't raise his wand and put additional privacy charms around them.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore greeted. "Before we jump to conclusions, would you like to tell me what has happened?"

Her eyes widened. "Are you really asking how babies are made?"

Snape snorted loudly, but Dumbledore just sighed.

"I suppose I am unused to this situation," Dumbledore admitted. "Are you alright?"

"I'm pregnant."

Dumbledore averted his gaze at that. "Yes. Yes, you are … and I must presume that Tom doesn't know?"

"Miss Granger wishes for me to inform him," Snape said emotionlessly. "We are of the impression that hearing from me will put value on my position in the school."

"Only if she keeps the child," Dumbledore pointed out.

"I am."

Dumbledore observed her after the soft declaration. "That is not wise, Miss Granger."

"Why?" she demanded. "It is not the next Dark Lord, it's a baby!"

"That was not what I meant," Dumbledore raised his hands in surrender. "I simply meant that, no matter what course you take with the child, there will be those who know of his parentage. Should we win against Tom, he will be raised fatherless, and any living Death Eaters would seek to take him – or her – from you. Should we lose … I fear whatever choices you may have in his upbringing would not be enough."

"If I didn't keep it, I'd regret it for the rest of my life," Hermione told him firmly, only the faintest waiver in her voice showing how emotional she was. "Whatever happens will not be because I was not strong enough or brave enough to protect the life I'm growing."

"No one doubts your strength or bravery, Miss Granger," Dumbledore insisted. "I simply mean that you may not have a choice in anything regarding the child once Tom knows. He may take it from you the moment it leaves the womb. Or he may decide he does not want a child and forcibly remove it for you. We simply don't know."

"If he forces me to get rid of it, then it wasn't me who did it," Hermione insisted, her mind running a thousand miles an hour. "And if he tries to take it from me … We hide the baby from him, as long as we can. I give birth here, then we place it with an Order member or a muggle family. Somewhere he can't reach."

"He may just kill you if you do," Severus pointed out sternly.

Hermione met his eyes. "I thought he'd kill me two months ago. I've been ready for that outcome for a long time, Professor."

Anger flashed in Snape's eyes, darker than any that had been pointed at her before. He was raging mad, in a way she'd only ever seen directed at Harry or Sirius Black. She recoiled instinctively.

"This has gone far enough!" Snape roared. "It is too much of a risk! You must get rid of it!"

"No!"

"Severus!" Dumbledore addressed the man sternly. "It is not your decision. Sit!"

"No," Severus shook his head. "If Miss Granger is adamant in her irresponsible decision, perhaps it would be better if I went to the Dark Lord now."

He was angry with her for keeping it, so he was leaving. Hermione couldn't take him looking at her with such fury, so she simply agreed, "Perhaps it would be."


Severus apparated to Sayre Mansion, still seething. Granger had no idea that Dumbledore was going to die long before her child was born, no idea that soon after the Ministry would fall, and no clue that all of it meant she would be alone when she most needed aid. She was going to want to rely on him, he knew, and he would disappoint her. The Order would hate him. Her only ties to them would be whatever she could find for herself, and if Moody had his way she would be isolated. Her and her child would be in the Dark Lord's clutches without a lick of help. She would grow to hate him like everyone else.

Rookwood greeted him cautiously, as any guard should that was protecting the Dark Lord.

"Snape, what're you doing here?" he asked. "It's a school day, innit?"

"I need to speak with the Dark Lord, urgently and before I'm missed," Severus ordered quickly. "It's news concerning his pet."

Rookwood nodded and motioned towards the throne room.

His Occlumency was shaky with his angry outburst, so before he pushed open the doors he made sure to calm himself. Loathe as he was to honour Miss Granger's choice, he would not be doing her any favours if he went into the meeting angry at her. A few Occlumency breaths and he pushed open the double doors, banging them with a loud thud.

Voldemort was counselling with one of his followers, the young Rowle heir. Severus approached hastily.

"Forgive the intrusion," he sneered at the young Rowle. "My Lord, I have urgent news form Hogwarts. It's Miss Granger."

The previously apprehensive look he was receiving from Voldemort turned to one of urgency. He waved Rowle away quickly. "Thorfinn, leave us."

Thorfinn obeyed without the hesitation Severus often saw among the older supporters. At least the boy was arrogant enough to think he deserved to hear everything spoken to the Dark Lord like Bellatrix.

"Well?" Voldemort demanded the moment the doors closed.

Severus strengthened his barriers. "Miss Granger presented herself to the Hospital Wing this morning, my Lord. She is with child."


Pregnant. With child. PREGNANT. With a child. His child.

"Are you certain?" his voice came out weak to his own ears, but Severus picked up on his question.

He bowed. "Yes, my Lord. Madame Pomphrey checked her over and the girl is seven weeks along. What's more, Dumbledore has been informed and is with her now."

Voldemort clenched his fists. Meddling old man. The child was HIS. The girl was HIS. The situation was his to control, not that old codger. He would not take his heir from him.

"If you wish, I could provide the girl with a potion to remove it," Severus continued. If Granger wouldn't listen to him, perhaps the Dark Lord would. "Surely-"

"You will do no such thing!" Voldemort hissed.

Severus raised a brow. "My Lord … surely you do not wish for a child?"

Did he? Voldemort barely had to ponder the question before he had resolved that yes, he did indeed want a child. The possibility had been written off long before the girl entered his life, and when it had he had resolved to not let it bother him. Yet, as he remembered, the idea had saddened him. His desire for immortality came about from a fear of death and the sadness of being the last heir of Slytherin, only to be impotent. Now, with the possibility of a child on the horizon, he felt that burden lift. There would be another heir of Slytherin. He would have an heir.

"Would even you reject the product of two old magic beings?" Voldemort defended his decision swiftly. It would not do to be soft in front of his followers on matters such as this. "An heir of the Slytherin bloodlines? The child will undoubtedly be powerful, useful. Tell me, Severus, how do you believe my followers would react to the news?"

"They will accept whatever your wishes are," Severus reassured him quickly. "But would the Granger girl raise your child?"

"Miss Granger is coming along in my teachings," Voldemort told the Potions Master. "I'm certain she will be an able mother, at least for the first few years. Narcissa and Bellatrix would be overjoyed to offer their assistance as well, don't you think?"

Severus hesitated, then bowed. "Narcissa, perhaps. But what of the girl, my Lord? When it is uncovered that she is with child, I fear what may happen to her."

Severus didn't want the girl to keep the child, but not for the child's sake. It was Hermione that worried him. She would be ostracized and possibly assaulted if people knew she was carrying the Dark Lord's child. There would be those who would attempt to force her to miscarry, potentially hurting or killing her. The thought of his student and … dare he think it … friend bent over in agony, bloodied and hurt from an assault on her person was distressing. As rarely occurred, he cared for someone. Not romantically, like Lily, but he yet again, a child his friend was carrying could destroy her future. Even if she wasn't assaulted, even if they won the war and the Dark Lord was vanquished, she would always be the mother of his child. It was a stain no one could remove.

"Perhaps she must be kept away from Hogwarts," Voldemort murmured, thoughtful. "It would not do for harm to come to my offspring. Thank you, Severus, for bringing this to my attention."

Snape bowed low. "Of course, my Lord."


Dumbledore had left her in the Hospital Wing soon after Professor Snape had left. Since she was keeping the child, Madame Pomphrey needed to take some blood and use it to craft her nausea and vitamin potions for the next few months. Once she'd done that, she'd be scanned and a moving, magical image of her child would be shown to her. She was waiting for Mme Pomphrey to return with the results of her blood tests when a familiar blonde head entered the Hospital Wing.

"Malfoy?" Hermione greeted cautiously.

The blonde came to her side, looking more concerned than she'd seen him.

"Granger," Draco said, his eyes moving over her, "are you alright?"

Hermione gave him a hard smile that probably looked more like a grimace. "Fine, I guess. Are you OK?"

Draco looked confused for a second, then shook his head. "Granger, I heard you were in the Hospital Wing and came to check on you. I'm not here for me."

"Oh," Hermione averted her eyes. "You should be in class."

Draco scoffed. "Please, Granger, like I'd let you get rid of me."

Hermione's heart warmed at his insistence, but the anxiety of her situation was enough that she didn't think she could tell him what was going on. Even with all his help the past month, she worried about his reaction to the news. She could lose his friendship through this.

"I…Thank you for checking on me," Hermione murmured, looking down.

Draco saw her humiliated gaze fall and frowned. "Granger, what's going on? What's wrong?"

She didn't want to lie, but she didn't want to tell him either. So she was silent, opening and closing her mouth to try and find words, a word, to tell him. Malfoy wasn't having it.

"Have I done anything to make you not trust me?" he demanded.

Granger looked at him, wide-eyed. "Of course not!"

She couldn't lie to save her life, and Draco knew it. "Then tell me what's so bad that you can't tell me, when I've been one of the only people you've cried to since the start of term. So, come on. Let's hear it."

He was right, and she knew it. Hermione felt tears coming to her eyes.

"Bloody hell."

Draco sat down next to her bedside and took her hand in his. Her teary eyes focused on his silver ones and finally saw the compassion that she'd seen in Malfoy for the past month. It was the side of him she wanted out when she told him.

"Don't cry, Hermione," Malfoy murmured, holding her hand tightly. "Look, you can tell me anything, you know that, right? I owe you my life, you understand? I would never, ever, hurt you again."

"You can't tell anyone yet, OK?" she pleaded with him, interrupting his promise. "Only Madame Pomphrey, the Headmaster, and Professor Snape know about this."

"I promise," he vowed to her solemnly.

She took a calming breath before confessing. "I'm pregnant."

His eyes widened in shock and Hermione waited for the disgust. It showed up, predictably enough, and Draco swallowed making his adam's apple bob. She waited for his reaction, aware that he probably couldn't speak.

"He-?" Draco couldn't finish the sentence.

Hermione nodded, tears coming to her eyes. "It's Voldemort's."

Malfoy looked green at the news, and he seemed to be trying very hard not to flinch away from her.

"Please, please, Draco," Hermione pleaded, clutching his hand tightly, "whatever you're thinking, stop. Ask me anything, but please don't be disgusted by me."

"Never," he said, clutching her hand just as tightly. "Sorry, Granger, but that was the last thing I expected. You … you never told me what he was doing to you. He-?" Draco swallowed harshly. "I'd seen it happen before, but the girls never lived afterwards. Was it – you don't have to tell me, but – was it at a revel? Did-?"

"No," Hermione murmured. "No, it was in our-his chambers."

Draco froze at that, but managed a terse nod. After a moment of silence, he gave her a grim smirk. "At least my father didn't see you naked before I did, right?"

Hermione gave him a disgusted shiver in response, making his smile a little less sad.

"How did godfather take it?" Draco asked.

Hermione grimaced. "He's angry at me. He said I was carrying the Dark Fetus, and that I should get rid of it."

Draco looked at her carefully. "And you won't?"

"Please, not you too," she begged. "I don't want to be pregnant, but now that I am I can't just end a child's life."

"It may be more than one, Miss Granger," Madame Pomphrey announced, coming towards her.

"What?" Hermione gasped.

Madame Pomphrey nodded, pulling up a chair next to her bed. She glanced at Draco, seeing if he was truly helping her patient, before giving Hermione the full attention. "Your blood has a very high hormone level for just one child. Now, it could just be you are irregular, but we need to check to see if you truly are pregnant with more than just one child."

Draco looked at her nervously and tried to stand up. "Granger, maybe I should-?"

Hermione gripped his hand tightly. "No, don't go. Please, I need someone here."

She watched as his expression softened. He sat back down and cupped her hand in both of his. "If you need me, I'll be here for every visit," he promised her. "Can I expect to be Uncle Draco?"

She chuckled but nodded. Madame Pomphrey was moving her wand in precise motions over her stomach. Finally, with a flick, and image appeared on her belly. She could see straight through to her womb, as if it were the most precise ultrasound. It was a full colour image, but Hermione definitely hadn't seen an image like it before. She couldn't even see where she was supposed to look for the tiny human – or humans – inside of her.

"Granger, don't take this the wrong way, but that's just freaky," Draco grimaced.

Madame Pomphrey was observing the image carefully. "Miss Granger, you're having twins," she announced. She traced her finger over the image and motioned for Hermione to look. "Can you see these two tiny shapes here, the size of a blueberry?"

She did. They looked so small. "I'm really pregnant. I'm having twins."

"Congratulations, Granger," Malfoy said with a smirk. She anticipated a sassy remark, and was not disappointed. "You're having a pair of blobs."

"Really, Mr. Malfoy," Madame Pomphrey tutted, even though Hermione laughed. She turned her gaze to Hermione's face. "Unfortunately, Miss Granger, with twins there's less we can do about the nausea and such. It won't harm you to take an anti-nausea potion, but it will be less effective. Prepare yourself for a few months of sickness."

She cancelled the spell on Hermione's womb, and, with a hesitant glance at Draco, she leaned closer to Hermione with a gentle expression on her face. "Miss Granger, if you ever need anything, please come see me. And if you're worried about Severus preparing your potions, don't. It's clear that he has an invested interest in this, and so I'll prepare your potions myself."

Hermione nodded in gratitude at the older woman. She took that as dismissal and bustled away to her back room.

"You'll really be there?" Hermione asked Draco now they were alone. "You'll come to my appointments with me?"

"I promised, didn't I?" Malfoy smiled. "A Malfoy always keeps his promises, even to a couple of blueberries."

Hermione smacked him on the arm, but then drew her arms around him and hugged him tight. Without Harry, without Ron, without Molly or her mother or Severus, she had one person. She had Draco Malfoy. When did that become a comforting thought?


There we go, another chapter out! I've outlined what I'm doing for the rest of the story now, so I hope to be able to pound them out relatively quickly. As always, I love reviews! Reviews, reviews, reviews! Thanks for the support!