Chapter Nine

An Unexpected Turn

Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin at Madame Pomfrey's reappearance beside the bed in the school hospital upon which she was seated. Draco held her hand, giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze as the Medi-witch nodded at a scroll open in her grasp.

Professor McGonagall, after hearing out their story—and declaring she'd have a little chat with Draco's mother about not apprising her of the situation in case Draco's changes hadn't been as easy to safely manage as Mrs. Malfoy had obviously hoped—insisted Hermione be examined, as a precaution, since she could not remember a portion of last night's terrible events. Madame Pomfrey, thankfully, was bound by an oath not at all dissimilar to the Muggle clause of doctor-patient confidentiality, and would only share with the headmistress what information was absolutely necessary.

"Well, taking into account what you two have told me of your recent . . . activities—" Hermione and Draco exchanged a wincing look at the pure judgeyness in the elder witch's tone—"my readings and the more thorough examination conducted this morning have detected only as much as what your explanations have already covered. That is . . . ." Madame Pomfrey paused, clearing her throat. "That is, Miss Granger, I can conclude that despite shall we say 'multiple encounters,' you've only had one partner recently, and that partner is Mr. Malfoy."

Hermione thought she might fall over for the sweet relief sweeping through her at the Medi-witch's confirmation. She'd thought sure Greyback hadn't touched her any more than she actually recalled, but because she couldn't recall everything, a little niggling sensation of worry had remained lodged firmly in her gut.

"However, there's something else of which you both need be aware."

The couple shared another look before they each turned questioning expressions on Madame Pomfrey.

"Well, it's too early to tell for certain . . . ." Now it was the Medi-witch's turn to wince as she continued, "But there's a chance you might be pregnant."

"I . . . um . . . what?" Hermione breathed out the stammering words as her face fell. "But we used a contraceptive potion. A damn potent one, too!"

"Normally, the potion you used would be foolproof . . . when in use by fully-human sexual partners. I'm afraid due to Mr. Malfoy's affliction, it's been working at fifty-percent effectiveness—at best-the entire time. Perhaps even less so, if what you've told me of your own ancestry contributed at all to any diminishment of its potency."

Hermione only gaped back at the other witch, unable to form any further arguments. Completely unprepared for the sound of it, the thud of Draco hitting the floor made her jump.

Madame Pomfrey only rolled her eyes as she stooped to help the wizard to his feet. "Oh, Mr. Malfoy! For Heaven's sake," she said in a hissing whisper, shaking her head at his naturally dramatic—and too well-remembered-behavior.

"Do we really need to inform the Minister of this?" Hermione asked, not making the slightest effort to hide the pleading in her voice.

Professor McGonagall's expression was sympathetic, but her voice was stern as she answered, "We absolutely must, Miss Granger. If there's a chance you could be with child—and we know Greyback is somewhere on these grounds—we're going to need more Aurors here to protect you."

Draco shook his head, his face pinched in a clear look of anger and self-loathing. "Professor's right," he said as he pulled Hermione back to allow the elder witch uninterrupted communication with the Ministry.

"If . . . if I am, d' you think he was able to tell?"

Swallowing hard, he spoke through clenched teeth. "I think it might be why he didn't do more to you than what you remember."

Hermione glanced over at Minerva and dropped her voice to a whisper. "What do you mean?"

Draco couldn't even bring himself to meet her gaze. He was split into several, bickering parts over this. One part was completely in a panic—not only would his parents insist they marry, which he thought he didn't mind so much aside from the abruptness of it all, they'd have fits over the fact that their son was having a child with the most well-known Muggleborn witch in the whole of the Wizarding world, and he'd have to break it to his father that he was a werewolf. One insisted that he could be mature about this, Granger deserved him at his best if this was their situation, and while panicking would be wholly understandable, he was going to handle this calmly because she was going to need calm around her. Another part, entirely, was actually proud of the idea he might be a father. The last part, however, was what caused him to make such a grave expression as he glared daggers at the floor just now.

"I've lived with Greyback's wolves, remember? I've seen, firsthand, what he's like with them. If he thought you could be pregnant, he likely stopped himself from doing anything more because he knows how brutal he can be and didn't want to risk any harm coming to the baby."

"What? I don't understand." Well, it wasn't very often Hermione Granger uttered those words, and the shock and confusion of having to say them now showed on her face.

When Draco responded to her statement with an incredulous look, she held up her hands. "No, no, I understand what you mean about him being, um, brutal." What she didn't understand—what she didn't want to understand—was how Draco knew what Greyback was like in that sense. That the werewolf could be so brutal with his appetites that there was concern for a pregnancy that couldn't be more than a week along was the thing that really frightened her. "But why would the possibility that I'm pregnant stop him? I mean, he's practically feral. He should only care if it was his, and he knows there's no chance of that."

"Greyback's policy is to 'get them young.' His idea of perfection would be to bite his victim while they're a child, and raise them away from Wizarding society. Train them to hate wizards, like he does."

This was hardly the time for it, but the realization struck her like a thunderbolt with Draco's words. "That's why he bit Remus. Oh my God. He was going to do that to Remus. Greyback hated Lyall Lupin; he was going to turn his own son against him."

"Except that Lyall Lupin caught him in the act and drove him off."

Hermione nodded, all feeling seeming to leech from her as she fell into one of the chairs before the headmistress' desk. "You were right. His intellect can't be underestimated. That was something he did on a whim and it nearly worked. This? With you and me? He had time to plan. What if . . . ?" Her eyes welled up and she clamped a hand over her stomach. "What if he wanted this all along? He wasn't angry that you'd been with me, he was . . . oddly proud. He said you were preparing me for him, but what if it was more than that?"

"You mean does he view himself as father-by-proxy because he set this in motion?" Draco shrugged, that anger still pinching his features and keeping damn near every muscle in his body tensed, as though he was ready for a fight. "It's entirely possible. He's sick that way." Seeing her so defensive, already, over a baby that might not even be there only added to his ire.

She didn't like the feeling he was emitting. She doubted he even realized it, but he was absolutely seething and it was palpable. And she couldn't help but turn the question about the source of his wrath inward. "So, is that rage you're feeling at me, or this situation, or . . . ?" She let her words trail off, a sad hint of helplessness edging her voice.

"What?" He at last snapped his gaze up to lock on hers. "No, no, Granger." Kneeling before her, he clasped both of his hands around one of hers as he let out a sigh. "I'm not angry at you, and certainly not angry that you might be pregnant—a bit mortified of how my parents will take it, but that's about all. It's him. And myself. I should be able to protect you, and I'm not strong enough to do it—not against him. I know that. If it were anyone else, I'd be able to tear them limb from limb, something I never thought I'd be able to say with confidence, but, you know, werewolf."

She couldn't deny herself a small laugh at the way he grinned as he said that. "You know I'm not one for letting others protect me. But it matters that you want to. And it matters that he's already proven I can't protect myself against him."

"Merlin, some pair we are, huh?"

Again she uttered a quiet laugh. "We're a mess."

A dazed look came into his eyes. "And we might be someone's parents."

Shaking her head, she made a feigned cooing sound as she pulled him close for a hug.

Hermione wasn't entirely comfortable with her new situation. She'd been forced to change rooms, taking instead an unused second floor classroom with no window as temporary quarters. Two Aurors were stationed outside the door, one a female so that accompanying Hermione to the toilet or washroom wasn't an issue. She felt it was all a bit . . . much. Draco, Professor McGonagall ,and Madame Pomfrey were permitted to come and go from the room as they pleased and Draco, oh, dear, Draco . . . .

He'd tried to use the fact that Hermione might already be carrying his child to talk Professor McGonagall into allowing him to stay with her. What surprised the younger witch more was that the woman seemed to think it over before deciding he'd have a curfew for when he had to be on his way back to the Slytherin Dungeons—something of which the Aurors would make certain.

She understood it was only until Greyback was captured or killed. Even so, she hated the precautions. They made her feel helpless, and while yes, she was helpless in this situation, she despised that everyone seemed content to constantly remind her that the feeling was not unfounded.

Only a few days of this had passed when Hermione already felt she was being driven spare. Draco accompanied her to classes, so as not to raise the suspicions of the other students by having an Auror tag along behind her all day. But after dinner, he escorted her back to her temporary quarters. She didn't socialize much with the current crop of Gryffindor students, so her absence from the tower didn't create much fuss, but even so, Professor McGonagall had assured the House that Hermione was assisting her with some research projects for the Ministry, and as it called for hours beyond the normal school curriculum, moving Miss Granger to a more accessible space for the time being was prudent. Of course, she hadn't disclosed the location of this 'more accessible space', or anyone could've realized the Muggleborn witch might as well be shut up in a cupboard for all the supposed accessibility her new room offered.

As ten o'clock of the fifth night of her 'captivity' rolled around, she was curled up on the small sofa in the room with Draco and was quite content not to let him leave.

He chuckled, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. "I really do have to go, or they're going to come in here and drag me out by my collar. It won't be pretty, I'm telling you."

"Let them come," she said in a mock challenging tone. "We're a werewolf and a hero of the Second Wizarding War! We could take them, I bet."

Draco burst out laughing as he sat up. "Maybe, but I'm not looking forward to explaining the aftermath to the headmistress."

"Blast it, had to go and ruin it. I was ready to give it a go until you mentioned Professor McGonagall."

"Granger, I know you're feeling stifled right now, but they're scouring the Forbidden Forest as we speak."

Hermione frowned, arching a brow at him. "Oh, is that supposed to be comforting? I think not. They've been at that for days and found no sign of him. I hope you like this room, because chances are you me and our possible bundle of joy are just going to have to set up camp and live out our lives right here."

Again he laughed, cupping her jaw and kissing her. "Hey. In all that's happened, you haven't said. How do you feel about that possible bundle of joy?"

A half-smile curved her mouth. "I don't know. I never even thought about motherhood before. At least, not in any immediate context. I thought I'd someday get married and my husband and I would decide, together, whether or not we wanted children. But . . . I feel like I don't want to think too long on either option. If I hope I'm not and it turns out I am, that'll only make it harder to adjust to impending motherhood. If I start to like the idea that I am and I find out I'm not, it'll break my heart."

"I get it. I suppose I've been the same way. A bit more defined about it. Half of me hopes you are, half of me is hoping you're not. It's very confusing."

"Well, good. At least we can be confused together."

As he laughed, the expected banging on the door sounded. Hermione glared at the sound, looking like she might actually loose a growl.

"And that's ten o'clock," he said, a mirthless smile on his lips. He stood from the sofa, even as the witch clung to him, trying to keep him put.

Snickering, he shook his head. "Granger . . . . Werewolf?"

Her frame slumping against his, she groaned. "Fine, fine." She kissed him and climbed down, an angry pout marring her features.

Draco caught her chin between his fingers, leaning close for a second kiss. "You're cute when you want me."

Still displeased with the situation, she snapped her teeth against his lower lip.

He leaned back, pressing his fingers to his mouth, but he didn't appear upset—he appeared intrigued. "I don't know if that was mean or sexy."

Lacing her fingers through his, she walked him to the door just as one of those bothersome Aurors poked their head inside. "Find out tomorrow. Goodnight Malfoy."

He smiled, dropping one final kiss on her forehead. "Goodnight Granger."

Draco hadn't let on to Hermione, but he was exhausted. He felt like he'd barely slept, and the truth was, he hadn't. Not recently. Each night, he found himself pacing as he hoped for some word on what was happening. Hoped Professor McGonagall would have some messenger come bursting into his room to wake him and bid him go to her office, straight away.

Hoped for the news that that bastard was caught. Oh, who was he kidding? Hoped for some news that the goddamned beast had been killed.

Dragging himself to his dorm in the dungeons tonight, he knew he couldn't put off getting sleep any longer. Of course, it didn't help that he felt as though the moment he did fall asleep, that was when something would happen.

Stepping into his room, he closed the door behind him and made a bee-line for his bed. He didn't even bother to put on the light or change into his nightclothes, blindly tugging off his robes as he crossed the room.

Draco stopped, mid-stride. The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Inhaling deep of the air in his room, he recognized something off.

Swallowing hard, he lifted his wand. "Lumos."

In the wash of light, he saw Greyback reclined on his bed. Rage and fear tore through him in equal measure as those familiar amber eyes locked on his. The bastard smiled at him.

Moving impossibly fast, Greyback was on his feet, standing before Draco—towering over him and clearly enjoying it. "Hello, pup. Miss me?"