AN: Okay, so I know I've been MIA. I am sorry for that. I got hit with about three curve balls in one week, and I'm still dealing with the fallout of that. It's been emotionally trying, to say the least, but I've not forgotten you guys, and Merlin knows I miss writing so here's the beginning of something new for you lot to enjoy while I try and get my head back on straight. Regarding this fic: In no way, shape or form is this meant to be a political statement, nor is it meant to indicate my own opinions on the subject of abortion. This fic deals with Hermione getting pregnant and the struggle she goes through in trying to decide what to do about it. Fair warning. Also, I promise, this is HG/MM. Just not at the start. Enjoy!

Week 4

Hermione stared down at the little line on the strip, gulping at the implications. She was pregnant. Pregnant by a dead man who she shouldn't have slept with in the first place. She closed her eyes and remembered the night they'd slipped back into Hogwarts through the Room of Requirement, and how she'd gone to scout out the situation and alert the Professors prior to the whole of the school being called to the Great Hall.

She'd rounded a bend after leaving Flitwick's office and run straight into a tall man with a solid chest, and black robes that were unmistakable. She'd gasped and stumbled back, terrified that her carelessness had just cost them everything. "Professor Snape," she'd whispered.

"Miss Granger," he'd replied, raising an eyebrow. "I trust Mister Potter is with you? Tonight is the night, then."

He seemed resigned, and to her surprise made no move to restraint her, or alert anyone of her presence. "Sir?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "Do me a kindness and drop the good schoolgirl act. I know damn well how you feel about me, and as your presence means that I'll be dead by the end of the night, I find I give absolutely zero fucks about formality."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "What? Dead? No!"

Certainly, she hardly had much care for the Potions Master turned Headmaster, but she had never wished him dead.

"Concern, from Hermione Granger?" He said skeptically. "If you're going to fake that much you might as well go for the home run and pretend you've been in love with me for ages or some rot. At least I might get a shag out of that."

Well, she mused, he was evidently not joking about giving zero fucks about formality. Had he just propositioned her? "Whose side are you on?" she asked. "The truth, point blank, Snape."

He huffed. "Yours, you idiot girl. You're supposed to be the smartest witch of the age. Should have been obvious by the fact that your lack of stealth hasn't caused your demise. Your wards are not as good as you think they are, by the way. You'd have been dead months ago if I hadn't been tracking you and strengthening them."

Hermione ignored the knowledge of his assistance, except for the puzzle it solved. She'd sensed someone else's magic in her wards from almost the beginning of their being on the run. Now she knew who it had been. That said, somehow she was more focused on the contrast between his insinuation he'd like to shag her and his calling her a girl. "You can't suggest I shag you and call me a girl a minute later," she said, arms folding in front of her chest as she cast a disapproving stare.

"Defensive of your womanhood, much?" he asked, moving gracefully forward until his body was pressed against her, and her back to the wall. As much as she wanted to deny it, and despite knowing she should feel affronted if not frightened by the way his hips were thrusting forward in a tease, she was completely turned on at this point in time. "If you're offering… Hermione… far be it from me to turn down a willing woman."

She shouldn't. On so many levels Hermione knew she should deny him and run back to the safety of her friends to gather a bit of peace before the battle began. What she said in response, however, did not show any misgivings at all. "Kiss me," she breathed.

Hermione's eyes opened with a flutter, remembering what had happened next. He'd kissed her, alright. First on the lips, then on her neck, then her breasts and every other inch of her body. It had been hurried and desperate, both mindful of the lack of time available and the fact that they were, in fact, shagging in the Charms corridor. She'd lost her virginity with her back pressed into a cold, stone wall and a man who'd die hours later warming every other inch of her skin. The sharp pain that came with first penetration had been nothing to concern her, given only two months prior she'd been under the Cruciatus Curse.

Neither had said another word. They'd fucked, they'd dressed, and with a final kiss to her forehead Severus Snape had left her standing there alone, off to meet his fate. Now he was dead, and she was pregnant with his child. What the bloody hell was she going to tell Ron?

Week 5

Minerva McGonagall was finished. She'd been offered the Headmistress' position, and she turned it down. She'd been offered her teaching post come September. She'd told them to go to hell. She'd been offered any job she liked at the Ministry or St. Mungo's, and to them, she'd sent Howlers in response. Point blank, flat out, Minerva McGonagall was absolutely finished.

The Battle at Hogwarts five weeks ago had been devastating. Her whole life she'd worked to educate children, to prepare them to make a better future for the Wizarding world. There had been five hundred and fifty-two students at Hogwarts for the nineteen ninety-six enrollment. There would be three hundred and eighty-six for the nineteen ninety-eight term, this September. Over a hundred and fifty of her students would never grow up, never have the future she'd been preparing them for. Many of those who'd lived were now short one parent, if not both.

She couldn't set foot back in a classroom and teach anymore. She couldn't look one more parent in the eye and tell them that their child would be safe in her care. She couldn't face a Wizarding world that she felt she'd let down. She couldn't do any of that. In fact, Minerva wasn't sure what she could do anymore. Whatever it was, it wouldn't be here. With a sharp movement she signed her name, and a listened as the Goblin in front of her expressed his regret that she was closing her account with them. Over the next week, she'd set her affairs in order. The week after, she'd go to muggle London and stock up on supplies. After that, she was going home. She was going to her manor in the Scottish Highlands, and the grieving witch really had no idea how she was ever going to find a reason to leave again. She was finished.

Week 6

Ron Weasley frowned at his girlfriend of just over a month. "Why?" he asked.

"I just…" Hermione let out a shaking breath. "We're all dealing with… everything, Ron. I just can't deal with a relationship on top of it all. Maybe in a year - not that I'm asking you to wait for me - but not now. I'm not ready."

That was part of the truth, Hermione thought to herself, trying to squish down the guilt of breaking up with Ron after having finally gotten together mere weeks ago. But he'd never understand. She was entering her sixth week of pregnancy and had still to decide what she was going to do. She'd thought about claiming the baby was someone else's, but she couldn't bring herself to stoop to that level of dishonesty. Her friends didn't deserve to be lied to, nor did the child she was carrying, if it ever got a say in the matter. Honestly, she hadn't ruled out just doing away with the pregnancy, though she was loathe to even consider that option.

She remembered the summer between her third and fourth year meeting a muggle girl a bit older than herself, who was on the tube en route to the clinic to have an abortion. Hermione had, in all of her self-righteousness, tried to talk the girl out of what she considered to be outright murder. The older girl had just offered a sad smile and told her sometimes there are no good options. Hermione understood that now.

Hermione sat with Ron for a few more minutes before claiming she needed to be elsewhere, even if she didn't. She'd apparate over to Harry's, she supposed, and let him know she'd broken things off with Ron. Harry deserved the head's up. After that, she didn't know. Her parents were in Australia, with no memory of her and that was not ever going to change. Her childhood home was a vacant lot now, the house having been burned to the ground by Death Eaters. The Burrow was out of the question given the current situation, and Hogwarts was in the middle of repairs and closed to the public.

Some hours later, Hermione found herself on the same tube line she'd met that girl, just a few years ago. She had no idea what to do, and nowhere to go. Back and forth, she rode, silent. With magic, she could go anywhere she wanted to go. The trouble was that she had no earthly idea where that was, and how she could even consider raising a child when she wasn't sure where she was going to sleep tonight.

Week 7

Minerva's eyes widened, first in recognition of a girl who no one had seen in a week, and then in surprise as she saw one of her favorite students to ever walk the hall of Hogwarts making a bee line for a muggle abortion clinic. "Hermione is pregnant?" she gaped. For a moment, she considered her own plan to vanish off the face of the earth and how interfering in a choice this young woman was about to make was rather contrary to her interests in that regard, but in the end her grief over the idea that another child's life was about to be snuffed out overrode, and she set her jaw and hurried to follow her former student.

"Miss…" Minerva started to call out, and then stopped herself. She didn't want to make things worse by announcing the young woman's surname here of all places, so she amended her greeting. "Hermione!"

The younger Gryffindor whipped around, and Minerva's gut lurched at the fear in her chocolate eyes. Was it fear of what she was about to do? Or fear of being caught doing it? "Professor...I…"

"How about we step back outside and talk a minute?" Minerva said kindly. "Please, Hermione. Do not do this."

"I have to!" Hermione stated, a tear falling down her cheek.

Minerva gently took hold of the younger witch's arm and led her back out of this loathsome place before she said another word. "Hermione, you do not have to do this. What makes you so certain you do?"

Hermione shifted her feet. "The...the father… no one would understand. But I can't lie about it either. So if there's no baby, there's no father to discuss… no father to discuss means no one ever has to know. Besides, I have no job, no home, and very little money set aside. I can't afford a baby."

The Scottish witch considered what her former student was saying, and to a degree even understood the reasoning. Still, she could not support Hermione having an abortion. It was against her personal beliefs, and gods… it was a child that didn't have to die. Of course, Minerva didn't have a reputation as an excellent chess player for no reason. She was very good at accounting for variables and seeing the steps needed to achieve the endgame. "Come live with me," she offered, much to her own surprise. "My manor in the Highlands is secluded, safe, and very few people even know where it is. I was already planning on taking some time away from the wizarding world to recuperate from the war, and have made it clear I desire privacy. I know a Healer who could see to your care with absolute discretion, and if you still feel you cannot raise this child when it is born, then giving it up for adoption is certainly an option. Hermione, please… enough children have already died."

Minerva had no idea if she'd hit an emotional nerve, said all the right things, or if Hermione had been secretly praying someone would stop her from doing this, but the young woman didn't argue. "Okay," was all she said.

"Come on then," Minerva said, leading her new roommate further away from the clinic. "I was finishing some shopping here in London, and then we'll head home. Trust me, Hermione, you will not regret this."

Hermione offered her a small smile. "I've always trusted you, Professor."

"My dear, we're moving in together," Minerva said, elbowing Hermione gently in the side, hoping to lighten the mood. "Best call me by name."

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