A/N: Sparked by an anonymous submission of a "First Line" challenge sent to me on Tumblr. I hope you like it.

xx-Kitten.

Hold Me Down

By Kittenshift17

Chapter One

"A very difficult situation," she agreed, nervously fiddling with the tassels on her cushion as her gaze bounced back-and-forth between the eyes of the beseeching medic and the menacing bottle of questionable liquid.

Hermione bit her lip, eyeing the bottle worriedly. She knew she should drink it; she knew she should just get it over with and put this all behind her; forget it ever happened and never tell another living soul.

"Miss Granger," the medi-witch said quietly. "I understand your reservations, but if what you've told me about the situation is true, it would very much in be your best interests to drink the potion, end the pregnancy, and try to forget all of this."

Hermione knew she was right. After all, carrying the unborn child of Fenrir Greyback was not at all what one might consider to be a very bright decision, particularly because Hermione had had no say in the conception of the child festering in her womb. She wanted it out of her. She couldn't bear the thought of Greyback hunting her down - as he'd promised he would just as soon as his 'pup' was born.

"I...just..." Hermione bit her lip, tears filling her eyes. None of her friends knew she was at St Mungo's, haunting the maternity ward. None of them even knew she was pregnant. They didn't know what Greyback had done to her when he'd caught her in the forest following the battle while she'd been searching for survivors, searching for hiding criminals who needed to be brought to justice, searching for the bodies of those who'd laid down their lives in battle.

They didn't know about how he'd stepped out of the trees, clawed hands closing over her delicate wrists, his superior strength overpowering hers far too easily. They didn't know what he'd done to her when he'd shoved her up against that tree, scraping her cheek against the bark, one enormous paw clamped over her mouth to muffle her screams, the other hand shredding her jeans.

None of her friends knew she was pregnant. She hadn't told them. She couldn't bear to. She didn't want to see the pity and the horror in their eyes.

"Miss Granger," the medi-witch said sternly. "The dangers of carrying a lycanthropy infected child to term are numerous. You could very well die if you try to keep this baby."

"It's not genetic," Hermione shook her head, knowing enough to know it was possible for a werewolf to sire a child without infecting the baby. A bite was needed to spark the infection.

"The full-blown curse isn't, no," the medi-witch huffed. "But there can be no denying that the genetic make-up of a child conceived of a werewolf's essence is far removed from that of a regular wizarding child. They are… savage as they grow. The health risks you face if you keep this baby are beyond imagining. Some of the mothers who've carried such children have had their wombs shredded when the baby is ready to born. Others experience the same symptoms as lycanthropes at the full moon, enduring the foul moods, the sickness, the raging libido, all of the wretched things werewolves face."

"But I…" Hermione said, eyeing the phial of potion worriedly. "It's not the baby's fault that his father is a monster. I could… raise him to be decent."

"Miss Granger, the abomination festering in your womb will be shunned by society. Some witches have been known to give birth to terrible, demonic half-wolf, half-human creatures when they carry such children. Drink the potion!"

Hermione recoiled from the woman violently, her eyes widening in horror not only because Hermione was sure that what she was describing wasn't true, but because this woman was a bigot. A flaming one if the twitch in her left eye and the disgust morphing her features was to be believed. She couldn't stand the thought of a half-werewolf baby being born.

"I can't," Hermione said firmly, her resolve snapping into place.

She rose to her feet quickly, pulling her wand.

"You have to!" the medi-witch snarled, advancing on her and trying to tip the potion into Hermione's mouth.

Hermione clamped her lips closed, struggling with the other woman.

"I won't," she snarled at the medic, shoving her across the room with more strength than she knew she had.

"You must!" the medic replied. "That mark on the back of your neck is proof that if your carry this abomination to term, you will be saddled with the werewolf who conceived him for the rest of your life!"

"What mark?" Hermione frowned, putting her hand to the back of her neck, some of the fight draining out of her in her shock.

"That mark!" the witch pointed toward a mirror on the wall behind Hermione.

Hermione looked over her shoulder, her eyes widening when she spied a black mark like a tattoo in the shape of a crescent moon adorning the back of her neck right at the top of her shoulders. Hermione paled at the sight of it.

"Where did that come from?" she asked, staring at the medic in confusion.

"From the werewolf who raped you, you little fool!" she snapped. "He marked you as his witch – his mate! If you don't abort the child, the mark will remain, and you'll be stuck with him for the rest of your life. No one else will ever be able to sire your children."

Hermione felt sick at the very thought, her eyes wide as she stared at the witch. What if it was true? She couldn't stand to be stuck with Greyback for the rest of her life.

But what if it wasn't? This woman had proved herself a bigot. She might say just about anything to prevent her from leaving that room whilst still pregnant.

"I've never heard of that," Hermione said, backing toward the door.

"Of course, you haven't. Werewolves keep it quiet, lest they be found out forcing women to tie themselves to them! Filthy half-breed monsters, all of them! You don't want to be saddled with this one, Miss Granger. You know what a wretch he is."

"I…." Hermione shook her head. "I can't. I can't do it. I want to research this for myself, first."

"No!" the medic snarled, lunging for her.

She wasn't quick enough. Hermione hit the woman with a Stunning spell before flinging open the door to her examination room and dashing out into the hall. She ran for it down the corridor, intent on getting to the apparation point. She was so intent on escaping, adrenaline fueling her system, that she didn't even see the shadow of darkness with glowing yellow eyes and sharp teeth that peeled himself off the wall of the waiting room and strode after her.