Chapter Four

Disclaimer: JKR owns all recognizable characters and settings. No copyright infringement is intended.

Severus hurriedly strode down the hospital corridor, looking for Hermione's room, scowl fixed firmly in place to hide his growing concern. The welcomewitch had refused to tell him anything more than the location of her room. Dear Merlin, he hoped the child was all right; how much tragedy could one young woman endure? He lengthened his strides.

As he rounded the corner, he found a Healer standing outside one of the rooms, ostensibly looking over some patient charts, her lime green robes a stark contrast against the bright white walls of the corridor.

"Pardon me, Healer. I am looking for..."

The woman turned her head to face him, her expression filled with surprise. "Professor Snape!"

Ah, yes. He had heard she had become a Healer; he had been quite proud of his former student when had learned that bit of information.

"Good afternoon, Healer," he said with a smile so small it would have been unnoticeable to those who had not been in Slytherin during his tenure as Head of House.

"It's good to see you, sir. Can I help you with something?" she asked. Her usually cold tone held a hint of warmth for her former teacher.

"Yes. I am searching for Hermione Malfoy's room. The welcomewitch said it was down this corridor."

Her eyes widened, and she began looking through the charts for Hermione's name. "What happened?"

Severus paused to consider how much he should divulge and then replied, "She has been staying with me for a few days. I received a Floo call from one of the other Healers saying she collapsed at work and was brought here."

If she were surprised by that bit of potentially salacious information, her expression did not show it. "I see," she said distractedly. "Ah, here she is. She's ... she's pregnant?" Quickly, the young Healer scanned the chart. When she was done, she raised her head. Severus was surprised to see not concern, but anger in the witch's eyes.

She smiled at him tightly. "Pardon me, Professor. I believe I need to have a chat with my patient. Wait here. I will fetch you when you can see her."

And with that, she turned on her heel, stalking into a room a few doors down from where they had been standing.

Severus breathed a relieved sigh. If he were to be allowed to see her, it couldn't be all that serious. Leaning against the wall outside Hermione's room, he refused to ruminate on why he had felt such concern for his houseguest's well-being and instead attempted to focus solely on how the irritating witch had interrupted his day.

~o0o~

Why are hospital rooms always so bloody cold? Hermione wondered as she fidgeted with the blanket that was draped across her legs. She wasn't fond of St Mungo's, having spent so much time there over the past few years, and yet here she was ... again. Only this time, she was the one in the bed.

And it was no one's fault but her own.

Sighing, she turned her head to look out of the window; guilt gnawed at her as she considered the harm she could have done to her child ... to Draco's child. She was utterly exhausted, spent mentally, physically, and emotionally. But in her heart, she knew there was no excuse for what she had done. She had been so wrapped up in herself, in her grief, that nothing else had mattered. Oh, she'd put on a good front, but underneath the strong façade, she felt broken beyond repair. And so very much alone. Her hand drifted to her swollen belly. She had forgotten that now she was never truly alone. Her child should have been her main concern, and she'd failed utterly. Her eyes closed, but she did not cry. She did not deserve the feeling of release the tears would bring.

"I am a selfish, unthinking cow, that's what I am," she whispered.

"I completely agree, Granger," came a familiar voice from the doorway.

Opening her eyes, Hermione turned her head as the Healer entered her room.

"It's Malfoy, as you well know, Parkinson."

The dark-haired witch smiled, although it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yes, I suppose I do. Now then, Mrs Malfoy," she said with a sneer, her smile fading and her voice hardening with each subsequent word, "why don't you tell me why it is that you have decided to jeopardise the health of Draco's child?"

Hermione simply looked away, as if it would shield her from Pansy's impending accusations. She would not break...especially not in front of this woman.

"Undernourished, underweight, dehydrated, high blood pressure, exhaustion," Pansy rattled off coldly. "What the hell is wrong is with you? Don't you want this baby?"

The silence was deafening.

"Well?" Pansy screeched, the high-pitched sound echoing in the small room.

Hermione swallowed the guilt that had risen in her throat like bile and managed to choke out a whispered, "Yes."

"What's that, Granger? I didn't quite hear that pathetic excuse of an answer. Did you say yes? Because I see no proof of that given your actions. For Merlin's sake, Hermione!"

Hermione's eyes snapped to Pansy's face in surprise at the use of her given name. There was anger etched into her features, yes, but there was something else, as well ... something akin to concern.

"You are almost six months pregnant, and this is the first time you've seen a Healer! What in Merlin's name were you thinking?"

Filled with remorse for her careless actions, Hermione looked away, but she couldn't bring herself to admit her shortcomings to Pansy Parkinson. "I saw a Muggle doctor."

Pansy snorted. "That would be fine except for one thing...this is not a Muggle baby! You are a witch, a magical being, and so is this child. You of all people should understand the difference! There are diseases and defects that only occur in magical babies, things that can only be detected by a Healer, and yet you chose to ignore all that to see a Muggle doctor. Why?"

Hermione rolled to her side, putting her back to Pansy, struggling to maintain the wall she'd built around her heart as a shield from her grief. "I ... I don't ..."

Swiftly walking to the other side of the bed, Pansy moved to face her uncooperative patient. "You don't what? You don't know why? You're going to have to do better than that, because if you don't, there is no way in hell that I am releasing you from hospital. I will bind you to this bloody bed for the rest of your pregnancy if I have to. Now, what's it going to be?"

It was too much for Hermione to handle, and the wall came tumbling down in an instant. All the emotional turmoil of the past few months bubbled to the surface, and her face crumpled as she began to sob uncontrollably, her pride in tatters, overcome by her grief, remorse, and pain. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to be neglectful. I just didn't want any more Healers. I didn't want to come here where ... where Draco ..." She dropped her gaze to her hands, tears sliding unabated down her cheeks, unable to finish.

"Oh."

Her head shot up, and Hermione was surprised to see the dawning comprehension in the other woman's eyes. "I did try, you know," she continued earnestly, sniffing as she wiped the tears from her cheeks with her fingers, only for more to take their place. "I researched all the possible complications, and I performed all the right tests at all the right times. And I really did go see a Muggle doctor. I just ... I just couldn't bring myself to come here."

To Hermione's surprise, Pansy seated herself on the bed next to her and sighed. "You could have contacted me. I could have come to you to do the proper tests. You aren't trained..." She held up a manicured hand to halt Hermione's impending protests. "You aren't trained, and regardless of how well you think you know Healing spells and charms, you are not a Healer."

Pansy Summoned a box of tissues and passed it to Hermione. "I would have, you know. I would have come if you had asked ... for Draco's sake. Although," she added grudgingly, "I can understand why you didn't."

Hermione stared at the other witch in shock; for a Slytherin, Pansy's words were all but an outright apology, and that was certainly unexpected.

Pansy stood and smoothed the front of her lime green Healer's robes as she schooled her features into a more professional demeanour. "You're depressed, as well. That much is obvious. Hopefully this incident has scared you into you taking better care of yourself, because if you don't, you will lose this baby. Understand?"

Feeling duly chastised, Hermione nodded as she wiped away her tears with a tissue.

"Good. Professor Snape is waiting to take you home. Yes, yes, I know all about that," Pansy said dismissively at Hermione's surprised gasp. "If you will give me permission, I will fill him in on what has happened."

After Hermione indicated her agreement, Pansy continued. "The baby is fine. All tests have come back normal."

Hermione eyes fluttered shut as relief washed over her from head to toe. "Thank Merlin."

Pansy ignored the remark, continuing with her instructions. "As for you, go home and take a few days off from work. Rest. Eat healthy meals. Drink plenty of fluids. Keep your stress levels down. Come back to see a Healer in two weeks ... or contact me and I'll come to you," she added, almost as if it were an afterthought. "And for Merlin's sake, talk to someone. You've had a great deal of loss over the past few years. It isn't healthy to hold it all inside. If your lousy Gryffindor friends won't help, try Professor Snape...he's a good listener."

Hermione didn't know about that, but the rest was sound advice. As Pansy turned to leave the room, Hermione stopped her.

"Pansy?"

The witch halted but did not turn around.

"Thank you."

Straightening her shoulders, Pansy said, "Just don't let this happen again," and swept from the room, presumably to speak with Professor Snape.

Oh, no. Professor Snape. What would he say?

With a groan, Hermione's head dropped to the pillow with a soft plop. She knew without a doubt that her day was about to get even worse.

As the professor entered the room, Hermione noticed his absent robes, indicating that he had rushed to St Mungo's upon receiving word that she had been admitted. His expression was blank, emotionless ... except for his eyes, which were as cold as ice.

"Healer Parkinson has apprised me of your condition and explained your care. I have sworn to ensure your health. Gather your things...I am taking you home where we will discuss your recent behaviour."

Morosely, Hermione complied. Yes, things had just become much worse indeed.

~o0o~

The scene was eerily reminiscent of they day the young witch had come to stay at the house at Spinner's End. She was seated on the sofa in the sitting room as Severus paced in front of her, muttering under his breath. Merlin help him, he had to control his temper, or he would say something he would later regret. If she weren't pregnant, he would have no trouble allowing her to feel the full brunt of his wrath, but she was, and so he couldn't do that. He wasn't exactly certain why he was so angry; he supposed it had to do with the threat to Draco's child, but he was in no mood to examine his feelings too closely. Perhaps later, after he dealt with the current situation.

With a deep breath, he turned to face her, his arms folded across his chest and his dark eyes boring into hers. "Healer Parkinson informed me of your medical condition. How did this happen?"

The print on her skirt apparently became very interesting, as she began to trace the linear pattern with the tip a finger. "It's my fault. I ... I've been working three jobs."

"Three jobs?" His brow furrowed in thought and then cleared as he realised the implication of her words; his eyes narrowed. "You've been Apparating out of your room after supper."

She nodded miserably and explained, "I wanted to finish paying off the Malfoys' debts and have some money set aside for after the baby is born."

"I see," he said tightly. "I suspect that was not the only reason."

Struggling to remain impassive, he watched as she valiantly held back the tears that had welled in her eyes.

"No."

He nodded and waited a few moments before arching one eyebrow and asking impatiently, "Well? What was the other reason?"

Her grief and sense of loss was almost palpable. "It was ... easier, being busy every waking moment. I could just work and sleep and not think about ..."

Hermione raised her tear-filled eyes to his, and Severus felt his own gaze soften slightly at her words. He was familiar with loss and was well aware of the loneliness, the despair, of losing loved ones in close succession. In one way or another, she had lost everyone important to her, everyone she loved, and now she was alone. Yes, he knew exactly how that felt.

"You have kept all this inside and have dealt with your grief alone." He winced inwardly at his matter-of-fact tone, but he was walking a fine line. He did not want to befriend her, did not want to be her confidant, but then again, if not him ... well, who would? He couldn't let her continue on this way; she might do herself or the child irreparable damage. The guilt would eat him alive.

He glanced at Hermione from the corner of one eye and inwardly sighed. Despite the strong façade, the witch was emotionally fragile. Her skin was paler than his, and there were dark circles beneath her eyes. She was far too thin, something he had been curious about since he'd carried her to bed that first night and that had been confirmed by Miss Parkinson. Something had to be done. It was obvious that she could no longer continue as she had been. Seeing that he had no other choice but to get involved, Severus decided it was quite obvious that someone needed to take charge of her care, and apparently that someone was him. Fabulous. It was time, he supposed, to shake some sense into her...figuratively speaking, of course...and then see if he couldn't find the bossy, take-charge, insufferable know-it-all he'd once known.

Drawing himself to full height, he resumed pacing, his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes trained on her face. "Since you have been so abysmal at caring for yourself," he began with a sneer, "there will be new rules for as long as you remain in my home. You will have one job, not three." He stopped pacing and glared at her, daring her to contradict him, before continuing. "You are saving a good deal of money by staying with me, therefore you will remain here until after the child is born. The money you would have used for rent can be used to pay off the remaining debt and bolster your savings.

"After you return from work, you will rest until dinner. You will eat healthy, nutritious meals and snacks, and you will retire before ten o'clock. You will immediately inform me if you should feel poorly or out of sorts.

"Is that clear?"

Rather than the outraged outburst he had hoped for, Hermione simply nodded dejectedly, her gaze focused on the floor in front of her.

Damn it. Perhaps she merely needed a bigger shove.

"Good. It is now three o'clock. You will go to your room and rest until dinner." That should garner some sort of reaction.

Hermione rose from the sofa and quietly walked to the kitchen until he heard her soft tread upon the stairs.

Severus frowned, his forehead wrinkling in concern. He collapsed into the armchair by the fireplace and ran his hands through his lank hair. What the hell had he got himself into?

A/N: This seemed like the natural place to end this chapter. It is short, but important. Don't worry. I won't allow Hermione to wallow for very long, but she has to allow herself to truly grieve before she can move forward. Then we can move the story along.

This is the last of the completed chapters. I have begun chapter five, and hopefully it will be up in a few weeks. I make no promises, but as the Shuglets are heading back to school next week, I'm feeling optimistic. Thank you all so very much, and please review!