Disclaimer & Trigger Warning: This chapter uses scenes and dialogue directly from HPatDH (Ch. 13 'The Muggle-Born Registration Commission' and Ch. 14 'The Thief'). All credit goes to JKR for making the universe and characters first. I am thankful to be allowed onto the playground, even if I am vandalizing it…
Speaking of, this is the chapter I warned you all about in the Author's Note at the beginning. Apologies ahead of time, but I did say we are following a canon(ish) timeline. Skip the rest of this paragraph if you are trigger-free and don't want things spoiled for you... There will be graphic descriptions of miscarriage and a splinched fetus. Along with the natural feelings of failure and grief that come with such a traumatic experience, which will be mentioned throughout the series going forward. For those who wish to stop here, I understand with no hard feelings. Thank you for coming along so far. Hopefully, you can still enjoy Anyone But Me as a stand-alone. And I wish you all the luck in finding a fic that scratches whatever itch you have!
With all that being said… Let's get to what you came here for…
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It was pandemonium. Harry had punched a Ministry official in the face as a diversion…
"He has been helping muggleborns escape, Yaxley!"
Hermione could hardly hear his proclamation over the mayhem. The real Reginald Cattermole had returned from St. Mungo's and was screaming loudly about his wife disappearing with an imposter through the last remaining exit. Multiple wizards and witches were denying Harry's claim while they tried to help their boss from where he was sprawled on the floor, blood gushing in rivulets from his crushed nose.
Yaxley looked from the downed wizard to the polyjuiced version of Harry with confusion. When his beady gaze flicked onto her the truth, or some variation close enough to it, dawned on him and he started to throw random curses in their direction. Not caring who became collateral damage in his quest to capture the fugitives who had managed to infiltrate the Ministry of Magic.
"Let's go!" Harry shouted in her ear before he grabbed her hand and pulled her into the fireplace.
They spun in place for a couple of seconds, the magical flames their only protection from the barrage of hexes sent their way. The pair shot up into a toilet and Harry burst through the door of the cubicle. He stopped to gape as Ron held a wailing Mrs. Cattermole at arm's length.
"Reg… I… I don't understand." The witch cried, clawing at the chest of Ron's robes in desperation.
"I already told you! I am not your husband, you've got to go home!"
Ron's order was interrupted by the sounds of banging from the toilet she and Harry had just exited. Yaxley flung open the door with a snarl on his brutish face that was red with rage.
"COME ON!" Harry shouted. He didn't give the wizard the chance to attack and grabbed ahold of her and Ron. Without warning he turned on the spot and Disapparated.
All of the air was ripped from her lungs as darkness engulfed them. The normal feeling of intense pressure as the world constricted solely to Harry's hand came next, but there was something wrong...
Something, or more than likely, someone pulled at the back of her robes and the added weight caused her fingers to start to slip from Harry's grip. For a second, Hermione thought she would be flung into the ether and deposited wherever his magic left her… But they materialized on the stoop of Grimmauld Place as intended.
As soon as her feet made contact with stone, she pivoted to check who had hitched a ride. Every cell of her being hoped Mrs. Cattermole had been smart enough to grab on…
Of course, they were not that lucky…
Yaxley went to raise his wand with his free hand…
"RELASHIO!" Hermione screamed and the purple sparks of her revulsion jinx hit the wizard directly in his face. She didn't have the time to think of a better plan. She didn't have the time to think, period. She slipped her hand back into Harry's and then seized Ron's shoulder before Disapparating them away from the deadly threat…
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A low groan broke through the darkness that surrounded her. She opened her eyes and immediately closed them again. Blocking out the burst of pain behind her temples caused by the bright white light that was bordered by shades of green.
"H…Harry? Ron?"
Another grunt of pain pulled her from her own agony and she scrambled up onto her knees and scanned the forest floor for her companions. Harry lay a few feet away, still unconscious. Ron, on the other hand, was in far worse shape. There was a growing puddle of wet crimson that encircled the upper half of Reginald Cattermole's body.
Hermione searched the area closest to her for her wand but couldn't find it. By the time that she gave up, Harry had awoken and sat up. Thankful that he was alright, she crawled over to Ron, fighting the urge to vomit, and whispered a possible lie, "You are going to be okay."
"What's happened to him?"
"Splinched…" She told the shocked wizard whose green eyes were wide beneath his lopsided glasses. Unable to repeat her promise for his ears, she leaned over and ripped the cloth of Ron's robes from his left side.
The wound was as horrible as she had feared. An entire chunk of flesh had been sliced from his shoulder and left behind on the stoop of Grimmauld Place. So deep, she was sure bone was exposed under the gushing of black blood. In a calm voice that betrayed the jarring havoc inside, she instructed, "Harry, quickly, in my bag… There is a small bottle labeled "Essence of Dittany'..."
"Bag?" He looked up at her in confusion for a fraction of a second. "Right!"
He sped off to do as she had asked. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the glint of sunshine on polished wood and scooped up her lost wand, there was no relief as she pocketed it. Her worry for Ron was all-encompassing. She reached down and brushed the sticky stands of sweat-soaked hair from his forehead.
Ron whimpered and she grew impatient, "Quickly!"
Unable to modulate her tone because of her worry over the dying wizard underneath her hand, her blatant worry made Ron's aimless gaze focused. He stared up at her through the pain of his injuries and his eyebrows furrowed. His lips began to move, but no sound came and he grew frustrated almost immediately.
"Shhhh, you are going to be okay," Hermione whispered the promise that lacked any real confidence again.
"I… I…" Ron tried to move but as soon as his left shoulder lifted from the ground, he gasped and his eyes rolled back.
He had blacked out. A small luxury considering the marathon his body was about to run without even moving.
Harry finally returned with the small brown bottle and tried to hand it to her.
Rather pale, she tried to soothe his terror as her hands fluttered uselessly around Ron's head and shoulder, "He has fainted. Unstopper it for me. My hands are shaking."
Without pause, the flustered wizard listened and wrenched the top from the bottle to hand it to her. She quickly took it and poured three drops of the foul-smelling potion onto the hemorrhaging wound. Greenish smoke billowed from the gaping flesh until it was obscured. When it cleared, the bleeding had stopped. New skin, shiny and pink, stretched across his arm. Days worth of healing, over in just a few seconds.
"Wow," Harry murmured.
"It's all I feel safe doing." She said, her voice shaking as bad as her hands. "There are spells that would put him completely right, but I shouldn't try them in case I do cause more damage… He has lost so much blood already…"
"How did he get hurt? I mean…" Harry shook his head in denial as he gave a quick glance around the small clearing. "Why are we here? I thought we were going back to Grimmauld Place?"
Hermione winced but ignored a sharp pain from her middle. One crisis at a time… She took a deep breath and blinked away the tears that sprang to her eyes. "Harry… I don't think we are going to be able to go back there…"
"What do you…"
She interrupted his question and started to explain what had happened and how the Fidelius charm had been broken on their sanctuary. How it was all her fault that they were stranded in the middle of a forest with no food and no alternative place to go…
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Hermione bit down on her bottom lip to keep from crying out as another pain racked her entire body. When the cramps had first started hours before, they were localized to her lower abdomen. As the day wore on the intensity and frequency had continued to increase, until she couldn't speak or move while every muscle in her body worked to betray her and expel her child.
She laid on the hard cold ground outside of the tent and stared up at the night sky. A small sliver of moon stared back. The same moon that should have watched this scene during the beginning of February. Should have…
Her life was filled with too many regrets for being so young.
She should have laughed right in her hero's face that night after the party…
She should have gone to the Ministry the moment she had seen his Mark…
She should have told Dumbledore to find different bait…
She should have declined Blaise's invitation…
She should have kicked Malfoy in the testicles and rendered him impotent instead of punching him in the face…
She should have confessed everything to the boys who were fast asleep inside the tent…
She should have followed through on her vow to do whatever it took to keep the baby safe…
But no, every step of the way she had chosen wrong.
A whimper escaped as yet another torturous contraction caused a warm trickle of liquid between her legs. She refused to check if it was blood. If she was lucky she would bleed out and not have to face a future where her direct actions had led to such a hell.
Hermione had known the risks but she had been able to fathom letting Harry go into the Ministry, of all places, without as much backup as possible. She had convinced herself that if she had stayed behind with Kreacher they would have mucked it up so badly all hope would be lost. That, even though it was incredibly dangerous, her presence would be the mitigating factor. While she might have been right… She would never know if Harry and Ron were smarter than she gave them credit for and if they would have returned after realizing Umbridge had an audience.
And the price to pay for her hubris was far too high…
She would also never know the color of her baby's eyes or hair. She wouldn't know their laugh or the sound of their coo or how they liked to be rocked to sleep. She wouldn't know their favorite color or food. She would never get the chance to know who they would have grown into as a witch or wizard.
She had stolen their life from them the moment she had decided to dive into the snake pit.
There was no doubt that she deserved every single agonizing pain. It was her punishment… To lose the benevolent gift Fate had given her. The last remaining connection she had to the wizard she still loved. Despite it all.
After an endless stretch of misery, in which the throes reached such a peak Hermione was sure her muffled groans would alert the oblivious occupants of the tent, it was finally over. Her body did all of the work and she felt the intense pressure fade.
Somehow, she found the strength to do what needed to be done. She pulled herself up into a sitting position and hiked Mafalda Hopkirk's skirt out of the way. Amongst the bloodbath between her thighs laid the grotesque amalgamation of a tiny human.
The baby had been a boy… A son. His half-formed bones and organs were visible under the translucent skin that was still bright pink in places. Most of what remained of his body had turned black where the blood had pooled around his injuries. Like Ron, he had been splinched during her emergency Disappariation. Both limbs on his right side were missing. As well as a large chunk of his chest, right above where his umbilical cord was attached.
She was oddly numb. It was as if the poor thing wasn't hers… As if he hadn't been kicking her that morning to let her know he was there and she was supposed to protect him.
On auto-pilot, her body once again did what it needed to do. This time to protect her secret that would never be revealed to anyone but the two witches who already knew. She pulled off her jacket and wrapped the miniature corpse, no bigger than her hand, into the fabric and took the bundle outside of the protective enchantments around their camp.
Weak from blood loss Hermione stumbled over tree roots and jagged stones as she searched for a place to bury the Malfoy heir…