Hermione jolted awake, a sudden wave of nausea hitting her with relentless force. For a moment, she lay still, hoping the sensation would pass, but it only grew stronger, twisting her insides until she could no longer ignore it. With a hand pressed to her mouth, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and rushed to the bathroom, her steps unsteady in the dim light.
The cold tiles against her bare feet did nothing to ground her as she collapsed to her knees before the toilet, gripping the edge as if it could anchor her against the storm raging within her. Her body shook with painful, wracking heaves as she emptied her stomach, her breaths coming in shallow, ragged gasps. Tears streamed down her cheeks, partly from the physical strain, partly from frustration and exhaustion.
When the sickness finally subsided, she remained there, her forehead resting against the cool porcelain, her body trembling. As the nausea began to fade, she reached for a nearby towel, wiping her mouth and dabbing at the cold sweat that clung to her forehead. She closed her eyes, taking deep, measured breaths, willing herself to regain some semblance of calm.
Catching her breath, Hermione's knees trembled slightly as she rose to her feet, the bitter taste of vomit lingering stubbornly in her mouth. She grimaced, wrinkling her nose in distaste as she flushed the toilet, the swirling water serving as a temporary distraction from her discomfort. Reaching for her toothbrush, she scrubbed vigorously, the bristles scraping against her teeth, each stroke a determined effort to banish the foul taste that clung to her tongue like a stubborn shadow.
Once satisfied, she rinsed her mouth, the cool water offering a momentary reprieve. Hermione then splashed her face with cool water, letting the droplets cascade over her skin in an attempt to quell the rising panic that threatened to overwhelm her. The refreshing sensation was a welcome relief, grounding her as she concentrated on the feel of the water against her skin, hoping it would drown out the chaotic thoughts swirling in her mind.
As she stared into the mirror, her reflection appeared haggard and worn, the faint traces of worry etched around her eyes. She recalled the dinner from the previous night—the rich stew, the buttery rolls, the decadent dessert—and began to analyze every dish she had consumed, searching for a potential culprit behind her discomfort. What had she eaten that might have disagreed with her? She mentally cataloged the ingredients, debating the merits of each one, all while her heart raced with uncertainty.
Her thoughts raced faster than she could keep up with, jumping from one possibility to the next: perhaps it was the undercooked chicken, or maybe the slightly off cheese. She meticulously scrutinized every detail, every bite, refusing to acknowledge the one explanation that loomed ominously in the background—pregnancy. The very thought sent a shiver down her spine, and she immediately pushed it away, resolute in her denial. No, not yet. Not until I have explored every other explanation.
Minutes felt like hours as Hermione lingered in the bathroom, grappling with her fears and hopes. Each tick of the clock seemed to echo in her mind, amplifying her anxiety as she fervently wished that her body's rebellion was not a sign of pregnancy. She pressed her palms against the cool countertop, trying to ground herself in the moment, but her heart raced with worry.
I can't be pregnant, she thought desperately. Not now.
She was still deep in the throes of her education, navigating the complexities of her NEWTs, juggling multiple subjects, and striving to meet the demanding expectations set by her professors. The mere thought of facing such a monumental responsibility at this stage in her life made her stomach churn with a fresh wave of anxiety. Hermione imagined the sleepless nights, the constant care a child would require, and the uncertainty that came with motherhood. The weight of it all felt suffocating, pressing down on her shoulders like a heavy cloak.
How could she possibly balance the rigors of academia with the demands of impending motherhood? The idea seemed absurd, yet the unsettling symptoms she was experiencing refused to be ignored. Hermione shut her eyes tightly, willing the thoughts away, but they persisted, swirling around her like storm clouds. What would Severus think? Would he want this? Would he even be ready?
A deep breath steadied her momentarily as she tried to rationalize the situation. Perhaps it's just stress. Perhaps it's the pressure of the upcoming exams weighing down on her. She had worked so hard to establish herself, to prove that she could excel in her studies. The prospect of motherhood felt like a cruel twist in her carefully constructed plans.
As she leaned against the sink, she felt a mixture of fear and hope rising within her. What if this was meant to be? The thought flickered briefly, igniting a tiny spark of warmth in her chest before she quashed it again. No, she couldn't allow herself to entertain such ideas—not yet. She needed to focus, to think clearly.
Summoning all her strength, Hermione pushed aside the rising panic, determined to convince herself that this episode was simply a bout of food poisoning. She had eaten something that didn't agree with her, nothing more. As her nerves began to settle, the tight knot in her stomach loosened just enough for her to breathe deeply, but her moment of calm was short-lived.
The soft but insistent sound of Severus knocking on the bathroom door broke through her moment of introspection, his concerned voice filtering through the wood. "Hermione? Are you all right? You've been in there for quite some time."
The warmth in his voice made her heart flutter, but she quickly dismissed the feeling. She didn't want him to worry, especially not over something she was trying to downplay. Gathering her composure, she opened the door to find Severus standing there, his brow slightly furrowed with concern. His dark eyes searched hers for any sign of distress, and she felt a rush of affection for him in that moment.
"Good morning, Severus," she said, forcing a smile onto her face, hoping her facade of normalcy would quell any suspicion. She stepped aside to let him in, gesturing toward the bathroom. "I'm sorry for taking so long. I just—"
Before she could finish, he stepped closer, his gaze narrowing as he examined her. "You don't look well. Are you sure you're okay?" His voice was laced with worry, and Hermione felt a flicker of guilt for not being completely honest with him.
"I'm fine," she insisted, although her voice faltered slightly. She took a deep breath, trying to appear more composed. "I think I might have eaten something that didn't agree with me. Just a little stomach upset, that's all."
Severus didn't press her further on her response, respecting her desire for privacy. "Time is short this morning, and we need to be on our way," he explained gently, his tone brooking no argument as he moved past her to turn on the shower. The sound of water cascading from the showerhead filled the small bathroom, a soothing backdrop that eased some of the tension in the air.
Hermione watched him for a moment, appreciating the ease with which he fell into their routine, even as her mind was still clouded with unease. There was something undeniably comforting about his presence, a steady anchor amidst the storm of her thoughts. She accepted his words with a nod, grateful that he was taking charge, allowing her the space she needed to regroup.
Turning her attention back to the tasks at hand, she began to prepare for class, her mind shifting into gear. The morning light streamed in through the window, illuminating the small bathroom and casting a warm glow around her. As she moved through the motions, the familiarity of her routine began to ground her. She needed to shower, get dressed, and ensure her supplies were packed in her school bag.
She stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash over her, wishing it could cleanse her of the lingering doubts and fears that clouded her mind. The steam enveloped her, creating a comforting cocoon as she lathered shampoo into her hair. Each stroke of her hands felt like a small release of tension, the warmth easing her thoughts even if just momentarily.
The day dragged on at a maddening pace, each hour feeling like an eternity. Hermione dutifully attended all her classes, pouring herself into her schoolwork as she always did. She scribbled notes in her parchment, engaged in discussions with her peers, and even offered assistance to those struggling with difficult spells. Yet, beneath her focused exterior, a persistent unease gnawed at her.
When dinner finally arrived and she took her seat in the Great Hall, the usual buzz of excitement and laughter around her felt distant. The moment the platters of food were placed in front of her, an overwhelming wave of nausea crashed over her. The rich, savory aroma that typically tantalized her senses instead filled her with revulsion.
Hermione glanced at her plate, where roasted meats glistened invitingly beside steaming vegetables and freshly baked loaves of bread, and felt her stomach churn uncomfortably. It was as if her body was rebelling against the very sight of it. With a heavy sigh, she pushed her plate away, her appetite vanishing completely. The cheerful chatter of her classmates faded into the background as she focused solely on the unsettling feeling brewing within her.
Instead of food, she reached for a glass of water, hoping that something so simple might settle her stomach. She took small, deliberate sips, but the nausea clung to her stubbornly, refusing to dissipate.
Feeling increasingly overwhelmed, Hermione excused herself from the table, her heart racing as she hurried down the corridor. The bustling noise of the Great Hall faded behind her, replaced by a deafening silence that only amplified her discomfort. She quickened her pace, her mind a whirlwind of anxious thoughts as she sought a moment of solitude.
Feeling increasingly overwhelmed, Hermione excused herself from the table, her heart racing as she hurried down the corridor. The bustling noise of the Great Hall faded behind her, replaced by a deafening silence that only amplified her discomfort. She quickened her pace, her mind a whirlwind of anxious thoughts as she sought a moment of solitude.
Finally, she found herself in an empty passageway, the walls closing in around her. Bending over, she retched violently, the contents of her stomach spilling onto the cold stone floor. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she grappled with the intense discomfort and the confusion that washed over her. How could she feel this way?
With a flick of her wand, she cleaned up the mess, the magic offering a brief distraction from her turmoil. But the worry gnawed at her insides, relentless and unyielding. She couldn't ignore it any longer. With her mind racing and her heart pounding, she set off toward the infirmary, the urgent need for answers propelling her forward.
Hermione swung the infirmary doors wide open, a wave of relief washing over her when she found the room empty except for Madam Pomfrey, who was meticulously organizing a shelf of potions. Desperation clung to her voice as she hurried over, her heart racing. "Madam Pomfrey, I need your assistance urgently!"
Madam Pomfrey paused her task, her brows knitting together in concern as she turned to face Hermione. "My dear, what's the matter? Come, sit on one of the beds," she instructed, her voice warm yet authoritative, gesturing toward the row of cots lined against the wall.
With little hesitation, Hermione lay down on the nearest bed, her nerves tingling with a mix of fear and anticipation. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "Madam, I need you to perform a scan on me to figure out what's wrong. I've been extremely nauseous all day, and I'm not sure why," she explained, her voice tinged with worry and a hint of panic.
Madam Pomfrey retrieved her wand, a slight frown creasing her lips as she examined Hermione closely. "Let's see what we can find," she said gently. She began the diagnostic spell, her wand glowing softly as it moved methodically from the tips of Hermione's hair, trailing down her neck, across her chest, and finally hovering just above her stomach. As she concentrated, the room fell into a tense silence, the only sound the faint hum of magic.
However, when her wand paused over Hermione's abdomen, a more serious expression crossed Madam Pomfrey's face. She studied the readings with narrowed eyes, her brow furrowing slightly.
"Mrs. Snape, I think I understand what your issue might be," Madam Pomfrey began, her tone shifting to one of cautious optimism, accompanied by a small smile that did little to ease Hermione's growing anxiety.
Hermione swallowed hard, her heart racing as she braced herself for the news. "And?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with a mixture of hope and dread.
Madam Pomfrey's smile widened slightly, her eyes sparkling with understanding. "It appears that you are expecting."
"Are you sure?" Hermione demanded, her voice a mix of disbelief and urgency as her right hand instinctively pressed against her flat stomach, as if to confirm the words she had just heard.
"Oh, there is no mistaking it, Mrs. Snape," Madam Pomfrey assured her, her smile widening even more, a spark of excitement dancing in her eyes. "Let me be the first to say congratulations!"
Hermione remained silent, her heart racing as a whirlwind of emotions swirled within her. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she bravely held them back, unwilling to let the weight of her feelings overwhelm her in that moment. She felt as if the ground beneath her was shifting, the reality of impending motherhood crashing over her like a tidal wave.
"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey, for your confirmation," she uttered flatly, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her. She stood up from the cot, her legs shaky as she tried to regain her composure. The room felt suddenly too bright, the air thick with unspoken possibilities.
As she moved toward the door, Hermione's mind raced, grappling with the implications of this unexpected news. She felt an unsettling mix of fear and wonder—fear of the responsibilities that lay ahead and wonder at the potential of new life blossoming within her. What did this mean for her studies, her career, her future with Severus?
Hermione's feet dragged heavily as she exited the infirmary, each step feeling like a monumental effort. She desperately wished this was all just a terrible dream from which she could awaken. The weight of the revelation sat heavily on her shoulders, tightening like a vise around her chest. As she roamed the dimly lit corridor, her mind raced, trying to process the news that had turned her world upside down.
She hadn't gone far when she spotted Ginny approaching, her expression a mix of worry and confusion.
"Hermione, we were so worried! Why did you run out of the Great Hall?" Ginny exclaimed, her voice laced with concern as she quickly reached for Hermione's hand, squeezing it gently in an attempt to offer comfort.
Hermione frowned at Ginny's words, a sinking feeling in her stomach as she realized her little display of distress had not been as discreet as she had hoped. "Who else noticed?" she asked quietly, the anxiety creeping into her tone as she felt Ginny pull her along the corridor.
Ginny glanced around, her eyes darting to ensure they were out of earshot from other students before she responded. "Just a few people. But don't worry, I'll make sure they keep it to themselves," she assured Hermione, giving her hand another comforting squeeze.
Despite Ginny's reassurances, Hermione's expression darkened. "What do you mean 'a few people'?" she pressed, her voice barely above a whisper as her heart raced with mounting anxiety.
Sensing the urgency in Hermione's voice, Ginny relented, her brow furrowing with concern. "A few others at our table noticed you looking unwell. Harry and I were among them. But it was Professor Snape who seemed the most concerned—he was the first to get up from the table when you left," she explained, her words tumbling out in a rush.
The mention of Severus made Hermione's stomach twist further. She hadn't anticipated his reaction, and now the thought of his worry added another layer of pressure. "He was worried?" she asked, her voice small.
Ginny nodded, her eyes searching Hermione's face for a hint of reassurance. "Yeah, I think he was. He didn't say anything, but you could tell he was concerned. Are you okay?"
Hermione briefly scanned the corridor, her heart racing as she leaned closer to Ginny, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm pregnant."
Ginny's eyes widened in shock, her mouth falling open in disbelief. She quickly glanced around to ensure they were alone, her voice dropping to an urgent whisper. "Pregnant? Are you sure?"
Hermione nodded, her expression serious. "Madam Pomfrey confirmed it," she whispered, feeling the weight of her words as they hung in the air between them.
The concern on Ginny's face deepened, her brows furrowing as she took in the news. "Have you told Snape yet?" she asked, her voice hushed and laced with empathy.
Hermione shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, a wave of anxiety crashing over her. She shook her head vigorously. "No, I haven't," she replied, feeling a knot of fear tightening in her stomach at the thought of facing Severus with such life-altering news.
Ginny gently placed a comforting hand on Hermione's arm, her grip reassuring. "You'll have to tell him, Hermione. He deserves to know," she urged softly, her eyes searching Hermione's for some sign of resolve.
Hermione tried to rationalize everything that was happening, her mind racing with conflicting thoughts. They had known for weeks that they were expected to produce a child, but the reality of it felt overwhelmingly daunting. It was still early, far too soon for her to fully process the implications of motherhood. Neither she nor Severus had planned for this; the very idea of being parents seemed almost surreal, like a fleeting dream she couldn't quite grasp.
She wandered through the hallways, her footsteps echoing softly as she contemplated her next steps. The weight of her pregnancy pressed heavily on her, a constant reminder of the monumental changes on the horizon. With no other choice, Hermione reluctantly acknowledged that she would have to tell him before he found out another way—before the rumors began to swirl or the telltale signs became undeniable.
Hermione took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation ahead. The decision to share her news weighed heavily on her heart, but she knew she couldn't keep it from Severus any longer. With a determined expression, she made her way through the corridors of Hogwarts, her footsteps echoing in the quiet halls. The stone walls felt like they were closing in on her as she rehearsed what she would say, each step bringing her closer to a moment that would change their lives forever.
As Hermione stepped into their quarters, the familiar scent of potions and parchment filled her senses. The cozy atmosphere of their home momentarily calmed her racing heart. Without delay, Severus grasped her hand, his grip firm yet gentle, and guided her to the couch. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver of reassurance through her, momentarily easing her anxiety.
"Sit," he urged softly, his voice low and commanding, yet filled with an undercurrent of concern. He summoned a house-elf with a flick of his wrist, requesting tea before settling down beside her. His meticulous nature came to the forefront as he began preparing her tea to her exact liking, adding just the right amount of honey and a splash of milk, as he always did.
"I've been looking everywhere for you. Where have you been?" Severus inquired, his brow furrowing slightly as he focused on the task at hand. There was an unmistakable tension in his voice, tinged with worry.
Hermione accepted the tea with a silent nod, finding a moment of solace in the warmth of the cup between her hands. The steam curled up, wrapping around her like a comforting embrace, yet the weight of the impending conversation loomed heavily in her mind. Setting the cup down on the table, she turned her gaze to Severus, her heart racing with trepidation. "I went to the infirmary," she confessed softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Severus's eyes widened at her revelation, a flicker of concern passing over his features as he leaned in closer. His gaze swept over her, assessing her for any signs of distress or injury, the protective instinct within him flaring to life. "Why?" he inquired, his voice thick with worry, the lines on his forehead deepening as he searched her expression.
Hermione attempted to take another sip of her tea, but her hand began to shake, the porcelain cup rattling softly against the table. Feeling his intense gaze on her, she realized the gravity of what she had to reveal. Sensing her distress, Severus quickly took the cup from her trembling hands, setting it aside before leaning in to kiss her cheek tenderly. The warmth of his lips against her skin sent a shiver through her, momentarily easing some of her anxiety, but the nervous energy coursing through her remained palpable, evident in the way she wrung her hands together.
"I didn't feel right at dinner this evening," Hermione stated slowly, her voice steadying as she forced herself to meet his concerned gaze. "I thought Madam Pomfrey would help."
Severus studied her carefully, his expression shifting from concern to something deeper, a flicker of understanding dawning in his eyes. "And what did she say?" he prompted, his tone more gentle now, as if sensing the enormity of her news even before she spoke it.
As Hermione spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks uncontrollably. The floodgates had opened, and a surge of emotions overwhelmed her as she uttered the words she had been dreading to say. "I'm pregnant."
The weight of her confession seemed to hang heavily in the air, a tangible silence settling around them. Before she could fully process what she had just revealed, Severus enveloped her in a tight embrace, his strong arms forming a comforting shield around her trembling form. His warmth enveloped her, offering a moment of solace amidst the chaos swirling in her mind. He pressed gentle kisses to her temple, each one a soothing balm, and his warm breath against her skin felt like an anchor, grounding her in the moment as he whispered words of comfort. "Shh, it will be all right. We will figure this out together."
With each soft whisper, the tension in Hermione's body began to ease, though her tears continued to flow, each sob releasing some of the pent-up anxiety she had been carrying. Severus held her close, his presence a calming force in the storm of emotions that threatened to consume her. "I promise I will always be there for you," he murmured softly, the sincerity in his voice wrapping around her like a protective cocoon. "This doesn't change anything. You will finish your schooling, and I know that in the future, when you're ready, you can have whatever job you want. We will navigate this together, Hermione."
His words resonated deeply within her, each promise weaving a thread of hope through her anxiety. As he spoke, she felt a flicker of determination rise within her. The uncertainty of their future loomed large, but the strength in his embrace reminded her that they were a team. "What if I can't handle it?" she asked, her voice muffled against his shoulder, a hint of desperation creeping in.
Severus pulled back slightly to look into her eyes, his expression firm yet tender. "You are one of the strongest people I know, Hermione. If anyone can handle this, it's you," he reassured her, brushing a few stray strands of hair away from her tear-streaked face. "And you won't have to do it alone. I will be with you every step of the way."
The sincerity in his gaze ignited a flicker of hope within her. She took a deep, shuddering breath, attempting to steady herself as she processed the reality of their situation. "I just… I never thought it would happen so soon," she admitted, a tremor in her voice. "We're still figuring everything out."
Severus nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "Life has a way of throwing unexpected challenges our way. But we will take it one step at a time,