XIV

This story is based on the Surrogate Mother Challenge issued on WIKTT. For full description of this challenge, please see the author's notes at the end of the first chapter.

Disclaimer:I looked in the mirror this morning and was stunned to discover that I am not JK Rowling. Shocking, I know.

Special thanks to my wonderful beta, Southern_Witch_69! I'm so glad that she's back! :-)

Breathe, she told herself. Just breathe. Get through this, and then we'll figure out what to do.

Hermione hoped that the scream had been enough to awaken Snape. Not that this was the best situation to wake up to, but it was better that he was here than her being off in another room, alone. She just hoped that he wouldn't hate her for this.

As the contraction relinquished its hold, Hermione opened her eyes to see Severus step into, and very quickly out of, the puddle of fluid on the floor. In a flash, he was wielding his wand and pointed it at her abdomen. Whatever spell he cast caused another flood of warm fluid to gush from her.

"I had to do that," he said, pointing his wand at the additional mess on the floor. She looked at him questioningly, and he nodded towards the junction between her thighs. She had forgotten how odd she had felt just a few minutes prior. But, at his indication, she again noticed the peculiar feeling that there was something between her legs.

Unable to actually see that part of her body with the bulge in her line of sight, she reached her hand down and felt the thick, warm, smooth, pulsating, wet cord. "Oh my God," she whispered, a sickly nausea settling in her stomach. "We need to do something," she said worriedly. She barely noticed that Severus was quickly covering her with a robe and trying to help her up onto the bed.

"We have to hurry, Hermione," he snapped at her. "The Levitation Charm that I cast will keep the baby from crushing the cord, but it will not last very long."

Hermione fought to keep herself in control of her facilities as she climbed onto the bed and got on her hands and knees. She could not deal with the feelings, but she could deal with this in a detached, textbook-like manner and leave the emotions for later. "I need a wet flannel, Severus," she said as calmly as she could manage. He looked at her oddly before he summoned one for her.

While he quickly dressed, she gently wrapped the protruding cord with the moist cloth. She then laid her head and chest onto the bed while her bum remained firmly in the air. If it wasn't for the fear and worry passing through her, she would have felt very embarrassed at her current position. However, she felt anything but embarrassed...she had never been more frightened or felt more helpless in her life. That includes having to face Voldemort, she thought.

There was nothing that she could do in this situation but pray and wait for the Healer to deliver the baby. She just hoped that they would make it to the Healer in time.

The minute that it took for Severus to dress seemed like an eternity to Hermione. However, even she knew that dressing with a wand was always more complicated than to do it by hand. In a way, she was grateful for his calm façade, but a small part of her brain to scream that he was truly the uncaring git that they had grown up believing him to be. Though she knew this wasn't true, she couldn't stop that small fear from sneaking into her mind and trying to root itself there. She tried to relax and ignore that tiny twinge of worry.

She jumped when she felt his hand rest on her back. "Tell me when you feel the next contraction, Hermione," came his quiet voice. The silkiness of his tone washed over her. Soothing her more than mere words ever could and ebbing away any small doubts that she had previously.

"Why?" she asked.

"I am going to move you then. The contraction will already cause a decrease in circulation no matter what we do. I may as well transfer you at the same time, just in case the Levitation Charm fails or something else occurs to cause more problems. I suspect that it won't be long; if it would be, I would just move you now."

"All right," she replied. There was something in his voice. It was off from his typical matter-of-fact or his snarky retorts...he was worried. As they waited, there was only the sound of their breathing to fill the room. His hand never left her, but tenderly slid up from the small of her back to her shoulder where he gave her an affectionate squeeze.

During the next minutes of surreal calm, Hermione forced herself not to think about what was happening. She tried to only focus on what she was feeling physically, as Severus had asked her to. She felt the baby squirm, as if trying to become more comfortable and could not help but feel a slight bit of relief that it was okay...at least for now. Soon, Hermione began to feel the, now, familiar tightening of her abdomen.

"Now," she said firmly, as she reached down with one hand and cradled the moist cloth to the cord.

With the aid of his wand, Severus quickly brought her up to cradle in his arms. Hermione tucked herself up tightly against his chest, gripping his shirt with her free hand as she tried to tell herself to breathe and relax with the increasing pain and pressure that she was feeling in her midsection. She barely noticed as Severus carried her from the bedroom to the fireplace in the sitting room. As the grip on his shirt increased and her knuckles whitened, he carried her through the green flames and into the hospital wing of Hogwarts. She tried to focus on nothing but keeping her breath slow and steady and the sound his heartbeat beneath his chest.

She started slightly when he bellowed once stepping them out of the fireplace. "Poppy!" The contraction was releasing, and as it eased, she felt her body relax. Severus laid her on the nearest bed, and she rolled to her side and back up to her hands and knees. He brought another reassuring hand to her back. "The Charm will hold; she'll be right here," he said calmly.

"Poppy!" he hollered again with an edge of irritation and frustration in his voice. He removed his hand from her and strode to the end of the bed as if he were going to search for the Mediwitch.

Hermione looked around the room at the few stirring bodies in the other beds. She thought that the only reason that none of them were sitting bolt upright was out of fear of what the Potions master might say to them if they made their presence known.

A candle lit at the far end of the room as the older witch emerged from her office. Even in the dim light, it was not hard for Hermione to make out the witch's disapproving look in Severus' direction.

"What the bloody hell is the matter with you? There are students...ill students...sleeping in here!" she hissed at him as soon as she was close enough to be heard. "I realize that you had a miserable day, Severus. That does not give you just cause to come storming into my hospital just because you ran out of Headache and Hangover Healer, and that brandy is catching up with..."

Madam Pomfrey's rant was cut short by Hermione harshly sucking in her breath as another pain started. The older witch turned her attention from the man she had been approaching to the bed he was standing beside. She took in the form of Hermione Granger and muttered, "Sweet Merlin," as she finally reached the bedside. She waved her wand, which pulled up a privacy screen, illuminated the bedside lanterns, and lit nearby wall sconces.

Madam Pomfrey coaxed Hermione back on to her side, and the younger witch watched with worried eyes as Poppy ran diagnostic spells over her abdomen. As soon as her wand ran over Hermione once, she had all of the information that she needed. Hermione let out an audible sigh of relief when Poppy cast the Fetus Sonorus Charm, and she could hear the baby's healthy and strong heartbeat. "It's all right for the time being, but I don't know for how much longer. We have to move quickly," she finally said.

The hospital matron began summoning items from her office. She looked up at Severus. "I need you to Floo St. Mungo's. Ask for Healer Thalna Thorne. She is the Head of the Midwifery Department. Tell her it's an emergency, and we need her here now. There is no time to transfer Hermione." If Severus was worried, he gave no indication as he went on the other side of the privacy screen towards the hospital fireplace.

"Are you all right, Hermione?" asked Poppy, her voice laden with concern. A dozen different responses flew across her mind at such a simple question. In truth, Hermione hadn't had the time to figure out the huge jumble of emotions that she was feeling. To say that the last hour had been a roller coaster of emotion would be an understatement. She had felt such joy with Severus. She had the horrible feeling that this was going to ruin whatever relationship they had built. He was sure to blame her as much as she blamed herself.

"I'd be lying if I said yes," answered Hermione with a faint smile. "Please, just promise me that you'll do anything you need to do in order to save her." Hermione's eyes were rimming with tears as she tried to maintain her composure. Despite the calmness of their conversation, she knew that they were skating on the thin line between life and death. She felt the rays of reassurance flowing from the older witch as Poppy squeezed her hand before grabbing one of the summoned phials and placing it to Hermione's lips. "Drink this, and we'll get started."

Hermione drank the slick and sweet orange liquid and felt the near instant relief in pain as her brain began to shut down. She kept trying to cling to the idea of the baby being okay, of everything being done well, and safely... it was the only thing that she could still think of. She was no longer able to string together a complete thought and soon found herself slipping into a deep sleep.

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Hermione felt as if she were a bear emerging from a winter of hibernating. She was groggy, and the events of the evening were a string of clips that she was trying desperately to view and place into their proper order. Nothing was making much sense. She fought to crack her eyes open.

The room was dark. She could make out the shadow of two other beds that were empty. At the far end of the room was a desk with a lone lit lantern. An older looking witch was seated at the desk pouring over piles of parchments and periodically humming to herself.

Hermione tried to turn over to glimpse the other side of the room. Her body protested the movement. She wasn't in pain, per se, but it was more as if she had overworked the muscles during an intense workout. She groaned as she tried to force her protesting body to move. She barely made it onto her back when she first felt it: an odd emptiness that she'd not felt for months. Before she could let out a cry for help, a hand came to rest on the shoulder. "Shhhh," hissed a stern voice.

Hermione looked up into the face of the old witch looking down upon her. The woman pulled out her wand and flicked it once to conjure herself a chair and to light Hermione's bedside oil lamp.

"Sorry, dear, I'm used to having a room full. It's a rarity to have such a quiet night on these wards. I'm Gladys Munch. I'm the midwife in charge of this ward tonight."

Hermione tried to prop herself up, and the woman arose to help her, stuffing pillows behind Hermione's back and head. She took a deep breath. Where to begin? She ran her hands down her belly. "Where's my baby?" she finally asked.

Gladys quirked a questioning eyebrow at Hermione, and she thought that she could almost hear the admonishment passing from the older witch. It reminded her very much of Snape.

"Now, that is an interesting choice of words for a surrogate," she chided in a voice that spoke volumes as to what she truly thought of Hermione. "The baby is doing as well as can be expected. It is being cared for in our Wee Wizard Ward. Now about you..." she went on in a tone that clearly made the previous topic closed.

"Wait a minute. Can't you even tell me if it was a boy or a girl? Where's Severus? What is going on?" Hermione voice was raised and held a definite note of panic. She was not going to be shut out now.

"Come now, Miss Granger. You need to calm yourself. Professor Snape went home to sleep. I daresay that Healer Thorne had to nearly threaten the man to leave."

Hermione took several deep breaths. However, all she could feel was a burgeoning anger that she still didn't know the baby's gender, and she was being treated like a horrible person because of some contract she'd signed months ago.

"It seems, my dear," continued the midwife, "that you walked around in labor for nearly two days before the dam broke as it were. If you simply would've told someone about it, we could have put a stop to it, and you would still be pregnant now. Or is this what you wanted? Did you find that being a surrogate was harder than you had thought? Was it that once you'd started feeling contractions you thought that your hardship was nearly over, and you'd chose to allow them to continue? Or perhaps your mindset was such that you were sick of having to carry someone else's baby, and that was what kicked you into labor to begin with?" asked the accusing the old witch. Hermione sat there with her mouth hanging open, aghast at the horrible things that this woman had just said to her. Gladys' smile never left her face and the saccharine sweet tone reminded Hermione very much of Delores Umbridge.

"I didn't know I was in labor," she snapped back. "My back hurt, and I was uncomfortable. I thought that was normal!"

The midwife tutted in disgust. "You need your rest, Miss Granger. I suggest that you go back to sleep. The representative from Wilhelm Wigworthy's will be here in the morning to discuss the closing of your contract. You will be able to speak with them about anything else."

Hermione held her face in her hands. Get a grip, Hermione, she chided herself. She tried to think the situation through clearly. The midwife obviously didn't like that Hermione had chosen to be a surrogate. Hermione decided that cruel and hateful people were best dealt with by ignoring them. It was best not to snap be horrid back to the witch. She took a deep breath and raised her head.

"Please, what happened? The last thing I remember was arriving in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. My water had broken, and the cord had come down."

Gladys seemed to relax some at Hermione's feigned calm demeanor. She took on an arrogant air and told the story.

"Professor Snape called here for Healer Thorne. She was in the midst of another emergency, so she was delayed. Professor Snape and Madam Pomfrey started the cesarean section without her. I think she arrived just as the baby was delivered. They quickly stabilized the both of you and brought you both to St. Mungo's.

"That's about all I know. It was all quite exciting, mind. We don't get too many births like that around here. Healer Thorne usually just oversees the midwives; she rarely has to get involved. However, she was called out twice last night and practically both at the same time." The midwife stood up next to the bed and placed her hand on Hermione's stomach. She pressed lightly with her fingers, and then, once she found her target, she pushed down...HARD!

"Bloody hell! What was that for?" Hermione asked indignantly.

"Sorry 'bout that," replied the midwife in a singsong voice, but her sneer said she clearly that she wasn't sorry. Hermione was quite sure that if the woman were given the opportunity, she'd gladly smash her stomach again. "It's a bit boggy. Nothing compared to what you'd be feeling after a Muggle delivery. With magic and potions, you've been pretty well healed up. The only thing we don't mess with much is your uterus. Yours is all sealed up, but it still needs to go through expulsion of the now useless lining and involution back down to normal size and to its normal place. It will take about six weeks." The woman flashed Hermione a hideous smile and reefed on her stomach again, causing a tight and painful cramp. "You can do that next time, put your hand down here and feel."

Hermione did so, feeling a tight ball under the thin layer of fat and skin on her stomach. "Keep it firm and tight, and I won't have to hurt you anymore," said Gladys in a more professional tone. "Though it would be easier for you to keep it firm if you were to empty your bladder."

"Where's the loo?" asked Hermione. She dreaded getting out of bed, but was already sick of this woman and was willing to do anything to get out of her presence.

Hermione's trip to the toilet was the furthest thing from private than she could have ever imagined. She felt like she was relearning how to properly use her muscles. The midwife had explained that this was a combination of adrenaline, hormones, and magic coursing through her body. By the time she was able to get back in bed, she no longer had the strength to be angry with the nasty witch for her thoughtless and hurtful remarks.

"I feel like I've been run over by a Hippogriff," she muttered as she crawled back into bed.

"That's pretty typical. I do have a potion for you once you're settled." She scurried back up to her desk and returned with two phials.

She handed Hermione the first potion. "Here, this one will help work on those muscles for you. It'll help you sleep as well. By the time you wake up in the morning, you should feel good as new."

"And hopefully you'll be gone," Hermione muttered under her breath. She drank down the brown sludge quickly. She gave the empty phial back to Gladys and was given another phial. "What's this one?"

"It's to dry you up. We give it to all of our surrogates. I daresay that you will appreciate it," came Gladys' disgusted sounding retort.

"Dry me up? What? You mean..."

"You won't have to worry about lactating, dearie," the midwife finished before Hermione had the chance.

"I don't want it," she Hermione sternly as she set the phial back in Gladys' outstretched hand.

"Miss Granger," snapped the midwife. She stopped herself and took several seething breaths before she continued. "I'm sure you know that most witches deliver and recover at home, we only get the complicated women...like you...and those that aren't keeping their babies...again, like you. So, it's best that you listen to what we have to tell you. You have no reason to lactate, and if you don't take the potion soon, then it will not work. You'll be stuck doing something ridiculous like using cabbages. I will place this potion here on your bedside table. You can take it when you are more awake in the morning and have had time to think things through. Don't think too long; it'll just be a waste of potion." The witch slammed the phial on the table and stormed off to her desk, not giving Hermione a second look.

Hermione glared at the retreating woman's backside as she settled back down to bed. The potion she had taken was making her feel drowsy, and she was having a hard time sifting through her thoughts. She was confused.

She still didn't know much of anything about the baby. She was worried, as any mother would be, but she knew that she was in no condition to go storming up and down the halls. It bothered her a great deal that Severus wasn't there. She wanted to know what he was thinking now. She couldn't help but to feel guilty by the things that the midwife had said to her.

She'd been in labor for nearly two days. Two days! How could she not have known? It just reiterated the initial feeling of failing that she'd had. She had set out to do something, and she'd failed. Now, someone else was paying for her shortcomings. An innocent life that, though she knew very little about, she loved very much.

She could not keep her eyes open anymore and slipped once more into the sea of unconsciousness with the vision of her child on her mind.

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Hermione was sitting at a table in the front row of the Potions classroom, adding ingredients to a simmering cauldron. She added a dram of finely chopped gingerroot to the milky-white substance bubbling within.

"And just what do you think that you are doing, Miss Granger?" hissed Professor Snape. "This is the fifth batch of potion that you have insisted upon ruining with your inane experiments. It would seem that you have failed yet again." He raised his wand to vanish the brew, but Hermione caught his hand.

"I haven't failed yet; let me finish this attempt, please."

"And why wouldn't you fail yet again, Miss Granger? I never should've chosen a Gryffindor for such an important assignment. You even failed at producing a child for me. Such a waste of time," he seethed.

Hermione knew she was dreaming. She knew it, but it didn't help her to dismiss the hateful words that her dream-Snape was saying to her. She closed her eyes and tried to make her old Potions master go away. When she opened them, she was still standing in the Potions classroom. Her cauldron was again happily bubbling. It was time to add the next ingredient. She slowly poured in half of a bottle of brandy and jumped, nearly dropping the bottle, when someone tapped on her shoulder.

"Bloody hell, Hermione! Are you hoping that making him drunk will make him any less disappointed in you when he wakes up?" asked her redheaded ex-boyfriend.

"When who wakes up, Ron?"

"Why Harry, of course. Mind, you should've done something about him ages ago. The only reason he's still trapped down in the Department of Mysteries is because of you. It's all your fault."

"I didn't know the spell would trap him in the Pensieve like that!"

"It doesn't matter. You were the brains of the group, Hermione. We trusted you. We counted on you to figure out all of that stuff. And even when the spell did backfire like that...you should have known what to do to get him out!"

"How could I have known, Ron?" Hermione ranted. "I only knew that reversing the spell would release Voldemort, too! We can't risk that! Harry wouldn't want us to risk that! Despite your stupid opinions, you need to realize that I don't know everything!"

"Obviously," he snorted. "You let us down. You failed us. Why else do you think I ran off with Parvati after You-Know-Who fell? It's because I was disappointed in you. You let down Harry! You let me down!" With those final words, the image of Ron disappeared with a soft pop.

His words hurt, but Hermione was beginning to feel numb from her guilt. She focused back on her cauldron. It was time to add the knarl quills. Six whole quills would be added to the potion one at a time, allowing it to simmer for one day in between the addition of each quill. "Time consuming," muttered Hermione.

As with all dreams, the next thing she knew, she had finished adding the quills and was again staring into the newly purple mixture. She still had no idea why she was brewing the potion. She knew that this was only a dream. She just wished that she had more control over the dream, but she did not. She only seemed to gleam information when she needed it. Something told her that this was important, but she could not help dreading who she would be seeing next.

As if on cue, "Miss Granger!" snapped the clipped voice of Professor McGonagall.

Hermione jumped at the strong brogue of her former Head of House. She looked around to see Minerva McGonagall walking through the classroom door in her old emerald green teaching robes. She stepped aside to reveal tiny Professor Flitwick standing with her.

"Good morning," replied Hermione.

"Hmmm," answered Minerva. "It may be a good morning to you, Miss Granger, but not to me. I just got the result of your exams," she said waving a stack of parchments. "I am afraid that I will have to Owl your parents immediately. You have failed everything. I am very disappointed in you."

"My parents are dead, Professor," answered Hermione simply. Minerva plowed on as if Hermione had not said anything. "You let me down, Miss Granger. You let your parents down. I am sure that you realize that they would not be dead now if it weren't for your involvement with Mr. Potter. Those that attacked your parents were only trying to hurt you." The papers that she was waving around vanished and were replaced with her walking cane. "All this time has passed, and you have done nothing to help Mr. Potter. And it just kills me to think what you've now done to poor Severus and that innocent baby," she tsked.

"I don't know how to help Harry!" Hermione shouted. "As far as Professor Snape is concerned...well...it wasn't my fault! I didn't know! I didn't try to do anything wrong," cried Hermione, tears were beginning to streak her face.

"You also failed to convince Severus to stay on at Hogwarts, Miss Granger," chimed in the squeaky Charms Professor.

Hermione put her elbows on the table and her face in her hands. Come on mind...tell me...what else am I no good at? She sighed hoping that the image of her mentors, past and present, were gone.

She moved her hands and found that she was, thankfully, alone. She lifted her wand and poked at the contents of the cauldron. After the stewing, it was now a deep maroon, reminding Hermione of blood.

She grabbed at the flint blade on the table and began slicing the mandrake roots into perfect one-inch cubes. She was thankful that the roots were parboiled so that she didn't have to worry about wearing earmuffs or, even worse, looking at their human-like faces contorting as they were cut up. She finished with the root and carefully added it to the compound, careful not to cause splashing.

She peered into the now silvery depths; it reminded Hermione of a Pensieve. Her head was joined by another. "Harry!" she cried as his head bumped her own. "What are you doing here? I've missed you terribly you know."'

"If you missed me so badly, you wouldn't be leaving me to rot with that old megalomaniac like you are now," said Harry, his brilliant green eyes flashing as he rubbed his head.

"I didn't know what to do, Harry. I'm sorry, I really am. It's not like I up and left you. They shoved you off in the Department of Mysteries. Besides, things haven't exactly been easy for me since the war ended," she defended.

"Don't give me that, Hermione! You were the one that knew everything! What happened to you?" queried Harry in an accusing tone.

"I don't know how to help you, Harry! If I did, I would, but I don't know how. I've looked and looked. I know Charms, Harry, but I don't think that it's a Charm that can help you."

Harry stopped and looked contemplatively at Hermione. After several long minutes of silence, a slow smile began to grow on his face. He took his wand and poked it into the cauldron drawing up a string of golden light. "Not just a Charm, Hermione," he said. Before she could reply, Harry and the cauldron were gone, leaving Hermione standing alone in an empty room. The sounds of a screaming baby coming from the direction of Severus' office seemed to pull her away from the thoughts about her visitors.

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Hermione awoke with the urge to dart out of bed and soothe the wails that she still heard on the other side of the door to Severus' office. The images from her dream were swiftly slipping away from her grasp. The harder she tried to remember the image the further out of reach it danced, taunting her. The only thing that she was left with was a resounding sense that her childhood boggart had come to life. She had effectively failed at everything.

She was curled up on her side, and she wiped the tears off of her face. Light was shining in the room now; for that, she was thankful. She moved to sit up. Her stirrings caused the residing midwife to approach her bed. Hermione groaned. She was not in the mood to listen to someone else telling her how she'd fucked up.

"Good morning, Hermione" came the chipper voice.

Hermione looked up to the familiar face of Lavender Brown. She didn't know whether to feel relieved or more on edge. At least she knew Lavender, and she was unlikely to demoralize or degrade her. "Hi, Lavender. I wasn't expecting you. Last I saw you, well, I'd say that you were about ready to deliver."

The brown-haired witch smiled and sat on the edge of Hermione's bed. "Well, I did really soon after that. After that, I was able to grease a couple of pockets, and I decided that this was what I wanted to do. There is something really amazing about childbirth. I just can't describe it," she gushed.

Hermione tried to smile. "Oh," she managed to say. "I'm happy for you, Lavender. I really am."

The new midwife patted Hermione's hand. "Oh, I didn't think about that," she blushed. "Well, don't worry about it. It'll get better. Honest. Here, turn around. Let me braid your hair."

"You know that there are spells for that," Hermione said as she dutifully turned to the side.

"I know, but there's something therapeutic about using your hands. Well, I wish that I could've been there when you delivered. I need to attend two more and do one assisted cesarean section before I'm no longer considered a trainee." Her old roommate conjured a hairbrush and pulled the few pins that were still in Hermione's hair, but were now doing a miserable job of keeping her hair off of her neck. Soon, Lavender was working through the bushy mass of curls with the brush and sectioning off Hermione's hair.

"Sorry, I couldn't oblige," mumbled Hermione half-heartedly.

"Oh, no, I wasn't meaning it that way," giggled Lavender. "Oh, never mind."

Hermione took advantage of the laughter and began testing the waters. "That other woman, Gladys, I think her name was...she wasn't very nice."

"No, that's one nasty old biddy. I agree. I met her after I delivered. She was one of the reasons that I decided to do this actually," she replied as she tugged a section of hair. "She was the perfect example of how not to treat other people. Now I admit to being shallow at times, but I really found my passion, Hermione."

"Lavender," Hermione started tentatively. "Please tell me about the baby."

The pulling on her hair stopped for a moment and then began again. "It's a little girl," she said simply. "Hermione, take this from someone who understands. You just need to get on with it. I mean, it's not like she's really yours. You did your job, and now you need to take a step back. It will get easier. I promise. I think that we are supposed to have that inborn mothering thing. Makes you want to take care of it or something. Really, though, it will go away. Try not to think on it too much."

"It's not the same, Lavender," she muttered, though she didn't know how much more she wanted to divulge to her former dorm mate. The baby was hers, but no one seemed to know here. Hermione wasn't allowed to say anything either. She would never refer to Lavender as a friend. They had lived in the same room for years while attending Hogwarts and had tolerated each other's company. Some times, of course, was better than other times.

Silence settled between them as Lavender finished working on her hair. She finished and tied the hair in a ribbon.

"Professor Snape was by earlier. He said that he didn't wish to wake you, but he wanted to make sure that you got everything that you needed."

"Did he say anything else?"

"No," Lavender stood up from the bed, gathering her hairbrush and hairpins. "But you don't have to worry about seeing him again. I was surprised when they said he was the one that you are, I mean, were working for." The young midwife shuddered. "Anyhow, a representative from Wilhelm Wigworthy's will be by to see you today and finalize everything." Lavender paused and looked like she was thinking hard before finally saying, "Look, Hermione, if you'd like I will try to get you in to see her for a few minutes. Okay? She's holding her own. For being so early, she's actually doing surprisingly well."

Hermione gave her a smile and nodded her head. "Thank you, I would really appreciate it."

The trainee midwife beamed brightly. "Now, you go use the loo, and get cleaned up a bit before I pay you back for years of making me study by pushing on your belly."

Hermione grimaced. "Fine."

Hermione emerged from the loo to find a familiar looking witch sitting in the chair next to her bed. She had a friendly yet business-like demeanor about her. Hermione grabbed the robe tightly around her and went back over to the bed. "Good morning," she said in an attempt to be polite. She was not in the mood to deal with much else this morning. "I'm sorry. I don't remember your name."

"It's Hazel, my dear. Oh, Miss Granger," she said enthusiastically. "How are you? You had an exciting evening, I hear."

"You could say that," replied Hermione dryly.

"Well, we received word this morning from the solicitors that the contract had been fulfilled on your end and that the rest of it was being taken care of. We just wanted to make sure that you were well."

"Yes," Hermione replied automatically. The contract had been fulfilled. It all sounded so impersonal, so formal, so...legal.

"Did you have any questions, Miss Granger?" asked Hazel with a concerned voice. "According to the contract, Professor Snape has two weeks to fulfill the rest of the contract, and I have been assured that most of it has been taken care of all ready. If he doesn't come through with the rest of the contract, you have grounds for recourse."

The words of the Wilhelm Wigworthy's representative fell on deaf ears. Hermione could not get past the blatantly obvious truth that there had been a contract between them, a contract in which she had sold a part of herself. She had told Professor Snape that she was selling a piece of her body for her soul. She had been deluding herself. She had sold the most precious part of her being for nothing.

Nothing.

It was in that moment that Hermione learned what it was that her mother had once said, but she had never fully understood. She would do anything for her daughter. Whatever it took, she would do it. If it meant that she needed to live in poverty and work as a whore, she would do it. If she needed to die, she would do it. Her daughter was the only thing worth living for or dying for.

She did not really hear when Hazel politely shook her hand, wished her well, and said goodbye. She did not notice as Lavender came over and began assaulting her body to ensure that she was healed as well as could be expected. Hermione barely noticed when Ginny appeared shortly before lunchtime. How could she not notice? Ginny sat there forcing food into her mouth, insisting that she needed to eat and that her mother told her that she'd always been famished after having a baby and that she needed her strength after such an ordeal.

"What is your plan?" Ginny finally asked once the lunch tray had been cleared away.

"I don't know," mumbled Hermione. "I guess I don't have a plan. I need..." she trailed off and began staring out the window. Hermione sighed deeply. "I need to talk to Severus. I thought that things had moved beyond talk of contracts and clauses. We just never discussed it; I don't know why. It just never seemed to be the right time."

"Well, I think you're on the right track. I mean, from what you've said and what's happened, I don't think he'd turn you out now. Even Snape's not that cold," agreed Ginny. "But, if you decide that you aren't sure what to do yet or something, you can come stay with me. Just for a little bit. I've made Ron promise to be nice," she added with a teasing grin.

"Thanks, Gin. I think I'll be going back to the castle. We'll see." She bit her bottom lip and looked over to where Lavender was sitting, reading a trashy romance novel. "Lavender?" she called.

The bubbly, brown-haired girl came over to the bed to see her charge.

"What do you think about getting me over to the Wee Wizard Ward now while Ginny is here to help me if I have trouble?" she asked hesitantly.

Lavender looked around the empty ward and thought. After several minutes and several checks of her watch, she nodded her head. "I think that you're right; now would be the best. Most everyone is at lunch. It's possible that you can go in, and no one will notice."

Hermione smiled.

Lavender checked her schedule of lunch hours and verified that the Healer for the W.W.W. should have gone to eat about ten minutes prior. She led Hermione and Ginny down the hall and showed them the door to enter. In most any other scenario, Hermione had every right to go in and visit her own child; in fact, it would be encouraged. However, in this situation, there was a magical contract that stated that she would not acknowledge the child as her own, and St. Mungo's staff obviously knew about it.

"Watch out for the Healer. She's Gladys' sister, and I really wouldn't want to get on her bad side," warned Lavender as she left the other two women there.

They entered the ward. The lights were dim, and the atmosphere was quieter and more relaxed. There was no rustling of papers or sounds of idle nattering. Hermione listened closely, and she could make out the soft sounds of a stream and the steady beat of a heart. There were three bubbles around the room. Each bubble held a tiny baby.

Hermione walked up to the nearest one and saw a name written underneath it. Duncan. Whether that was the first name or the last name, it was irrelevant. Severus would not use the name Duncan for a baby girl. Hermione's stomach was in knots as she walked over to the next wall and the next bubble. The tag Snape was clearly written on the card below the bubble. The infant within what looked to be a modified version of the Bubblehead Charm was smaller than the one that she had just looked at. She was lying on her stomach on a soft pink blanket, and she appeared to be sucking her thumb. Hermione grinned. She had sucked her thumb as a child, and being the child of dentists, she had been scolded on it more times than she could remember.

Hermione reached her hand out to touch the bubble and was surprised when her hand slipped through it easily. She tentatively moved her hand and touched the little foot that was nearest to her. Hermione moved her hand away, knowing that it was best not to touch the baby, at least not now. She was too small; there was a reason why the room had minimal stimuli. Hermione looked at the fine black hair that adorned the child's head and wondered what it would look like when the baby hair fell out in a few months. She let out a small shudder when she noted that the babe barely had any fat over her lean structure. She had to be less than two kilograms.

"Hermione," whispered Ginny. "I think we need to go."

"Just a minute more," murmured Hermione absently. "She seems all right. This is nothing like what I've seen on Muggle movies or on the tele." She looked up at the redhead for an opinion.

"We're wizards, Hermione. You know that by now." Ginny was shaking her head.

"I promise I haven't gone loony...a little emotional maybe, but not loony." Hermione winked at her friend.

Ginny sighed, but she couldn't help smiling when she came forward and looked at the small infant. "Do you know her name?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, we never discussed it. I never took the potion to determine the gender. Severus had mumbled something about one of the ingredients being harmful or something. Last time we discussed anything about the baby, he referred to her as a boy. I don't think he thought about a little girl." Hermione brought her finger up along the baby's leg. "When I saw Minerva before she died, she asked me. I told her Diana Grace, but I don't think that she looks like a Diana. Perhaps an Ella, maybe?"

Ginny leaned towards the bubble and grinned at Hermione. "Yeah, I'd say that she looks like an Ella," she agreed. "Now, I think we should leave."

"Excuse me," came a simpering voice from behind them. "How did you two get in here?"

Both girls jumped and turned to face a woman that Hermione would swear was Gladys Munch's twin. She had a sickening grin of a toad that had just caught a juicy fly. "I was just out for a walk," Hermione explained.

"You're not allowed in here; only family is allowed," replied the woman sternly.

"I am sure that Severus Snape will allow me to be here," replied Hermione with just as much force.

"Really? You think so?" replied the carbon copy. "I happen to have papers here that say the contrary, Miss Granger. They state quite plainly that you gave up all rights months ago," was the nasty woman's smug reply.

Hermione felt as if someone had struck her. Her stomach began to churn and bile slowly began to creep up her throat. "When did the papers arrive?" she asked, not wanting to hear the answer.

"They arrived by Owl Post, first thing this morning, Miss Granger." The simpering, too pleased with herself smile was again prevalent on the woman's face. "If you would kindly get out now before I have to call security..." The threat lingered in the air between them.

Hermione took one more glance at the bubble holding her child and turned to Ginny, nodding her head. The two women quickly left the ward. Once out in the hall, Hermione leaned up against the wall and grabbed her arms tightly around her. The tears began to fall freely and for what seemed like the hundredth time in just the last twenty-four hours. Her emotions had never felt this out of control before. Though, she must admit that she'd never felt this hurt, alone, and utterly stupid before. She had been foolish, very foolish, in more ways than one.

Ginny's arm came up around her and pulled her against her chest tight. "It'll be all right, Hermione," she cooed. "I'm sure you can talk to Snape later and get this all cleared up."

Hermione sniffed and pulled back. "I need to go."

"Okay, let's get you back to your room."

"No, Ginny, I need to leave. You said I could stay with you? I don't want to go back to the castle. I need to get these ruddy emotions under control, first." She looked into her friend's eyes. "Please."

"Yes, of course, Hermione. I told you that whatever you need will be done. Are you sure they'll let you leave now?"

Hermione swallowed and started to walk back towards the room. "Yeah, I think so. I'll insist. They can't really say no."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a long day full of meetings and ensuring that everything was done, all on the equivalent of two hours of sleep. He stormed down the halls of St. Mungo's to finish with the rest of his business. Then, perhaps he would actually be able to sleep tonight.

He approached Hermione's room and opened the door. It was empty. There were four perfectly made beds and a cleaned off desk at the far end of the room. He relinquished his grip on the doorknob and found Healer Thorne's office down the hall. Without preamble, he opened the door.

The Healer was hunched over her desk working on paperwork. A long plait of salt and pepper gray hair hung down her back, and she kept stopping to push up her thin wire-framed glasses. She looked up a moment after Severus entered the room.

"Oh, good afternoon, Professor. I trust that you were able to get some sleep. I know that I did. Thankfully, it was a slow morning," she said with a smile.

His face was a stony mask. "Where is Hermione Granger?"

"Oh, Miss Granger," she said thumbing through her papers and pulling out a sheet of parchment. "She left this afternoon. The midwife tried to talk her into staying another night. But physically Miss Granger was fine and healing nicely; plus, she was quite insistent, so they let her leave." She looked down at the parchment that she was holding. "It says here that she went home with a Miss Ginevra Weasley."

Severus did not bother answering. He left the Healer's office and walked silently down the corridor in the direction of the Wee Wizard Ward.

A/N: Poor Hermione, I feel sorry for her. Who wants to join me in lynching the Munch sisters? If you can't remember what it was that Severus' promised to do for her in the contract, it is in chapter 2.

Southern's Notes: Lynch? I can think of some better things to do with the bit...er...women. You know... Why am I not surprised that Hermione would take off without talking to Snape? This was a very sad chapter for me to read. I hope the next is brighter.

Now, I'm switching to bookish mode. Premature Rupture of Membranes can always be a problem, but it CAN occur without labor, allowing some women to go on to deliver closer to term. (Though, I feel I should tell you that the biggest risk to these women is infection.) In this case, Hermione was already 'in labor' when her water broke. One of the biggest concerns with PROM is that there are times when the baby is not engaged in the pelvis, allowing room for the cord to slip out. The mother should get into a hands and knees position to get the pressure of the baby off of the cord, and the purpose of wrapping the cord in a wet cloth is to keep it from drying out. A prolapsed cord can happen at any point, it doesn't have to be pre-term, it's just more likely then.

Oh, and someone did ask about suffactant. Suffactant is given to babies when their lungs are not matured. It is basically a fluid/oil that allows the infants to be able to breathe, without it the lungs, essentially, stick together. This baby didn't need it. Lungs mature at varying rates for all fetuses. Though, if she did need it, I would see it as a potion that needed to be consumed.

YAY to gardengrrl13 who figured out what was wrong! :-)

Oh, and I nearly forgot...in the US and likely in the UK, the birthmother has rights and would likely not be denied access to her newborn. This is a different world with magical contracts...enough said.