Chapter Fourteen

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Disclaimer: JKR owns all rights to Harry Potter and all the characters you find within. The plot is mine. My thanks go to her for the inspiration and the use of her world.

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Chapter Fourteen

Hermione hadn't felt this happy in ages. It wasn't lost on her that only a few weeks ago she had been at probably the lowest she had ever been. What a difference only a few weeks had made.

It was still early, barely six o'clock, but she was eager to get to work on one of the new ideas she and Severus had decided to pursue...opening a website version of the bookshop. She had applied to the Wizard-Wide Web last week for the address, appropriately named after the physical bookshop, and was granted access a couple days ago. Now all that remained was much of the design and populating the virtual shelves with the inventory. Luckily, the Wizard-Wide Web had offered the software as part of the package, so much of it was already done for her. However, being the perfectionist that she was, she had already found a few things she wanted to change.

The first day of July presented itself muggily, promising a repeat performance of the last couple days' tepidly humid weather. There were times she longed for drier climes, especially in the late spring and early summer when the humidity and incessant midges worked together to make life unbearable. Being pregnant seemed to increase her body temperature, making her feel as though it was warmer than it really was. It didn't help that in order to keep the midges out of the shop she had to keep the doors closed. It was downright stuffy inside, and she was constantly casting Cooling Charms about her so she wouldn't perspire under her breasts and belly. She thanked the gods that she was only four-and-a-half months pregnant; if she were any further along, she might just go mad.

The day had awoken, but most everyone was still asleep, lending a deserted quality to the streets. Hermione loved this time of day. It was so quiet, save for a few birds twittering about, that she felt as though she were the only person left on earth. Not that she actually wanted to be the only person left on earth. There were family and friends she couldn't part with and, of course, the baby, who was the reason for her pleasantly rounded tummy. And then there was her new business partner.

Business meetings had increased in frequency over the last few weeks to where they were meeting nearly every night now. Severus would invariably show up right before closing time, and they would talk about the more mundane parts of their day while tidying up shelves and setting the wards. She would have called it small talk, but everything he shared with her, no matter how inconsequential, revealed more of his likes, dislikes, opinions, and overall personality that it was too important to her to call small. Conversation with him was enjoyable. No, it was more than enjoyable; it was stimulating, exciting, thought provoking...

Her mind wandered to the night before, after the shop closed and business-talk had sort of segued into not-so-business matters. Slowly but surely, she was getting to know the true Severus Snape. Not the one who'd taught her while she was a student. He was still there, of course, and there were traits she had really admired that were still present: his dedication, his work ethic, even his stern impatience with thoughtless behaviors, flouting authority, or sheer lack of common sense. There were things she hadn't liked as well, but it was the combination of both good and bad that made up a person, and she knew that his less than admirable side strengthened those parts of him she admired, giving his personality a darker, richer hue, something deeper, more three-dimensional.

She hadn't found it surprising that he still dabbled in potions on the side and had, in fact, been preparing and selling them as a way to support himself and keep busy. Aside from the occasional foray into Diagon Alley as Samuel Prince, his home had been his sole refuge. He hadn't even felt it necessary to travel outside of the country, unless absolutely needed, saying that while he was used to being alone, traveling alone didn't suit him. He did make it a point to venture out once or twice a week so he wouldn't lose touch with the wizarding world, and his sanity, even though he couldn't do so as himself.

They had spoken for a length of time on what she had been reading, and she had discovered that he was quite well-read. His favorite books spanned different genres, but his most treasured were Muggle classics, which surprised her initially and pleased her greatly because he was in tune with his Muggle side. A few friendly debates had ensued about the differences between authors and the best-portrayed character. It was a subject near and dear to her heart, and he had held his own admirably in her eyes.

The realization had sort of snuck up on her that she was beginning to fancy this new Severus Snape. They had much in common, not including their joint business venture, and little things he said here and there made it obvious that he had her best interest in heart. He was always looking out for her, and she felt so taken care of, which was refreshing after being on her own for so long. She felt drawn to him; she couldn't stop thinking about him. In fact, falling asleep had been near impossible the night before because she couldn't stop thinking about him, and her incessant thinking had woken her way before dawn after a night of dreaming about him.

It wasn't the talk about business, potions, or books that had had her mind working double time, they always spoke about such things, but the lengthy discussion they had had about the baby. Thoughts of the baby, now four-and-a-half months along...halfway to her due date...consumed her every waking hour. She was happy...more than she had a right to be, she thought to herself, considering she had started out by getting pregnant before establishing a stable, two-parent home...but she was also very conflicted.

Whenever she spoke with Ginny, her worries, doubts, and self-incriminations over her child having a fatherless home would surface, and Ginny would listen and sympathize like a good friend should, but Hermione felt that sometimes the subject was exhausted with her friend because Ginny would either tell her everything was going to be all right or simply be supportive and agreeable to whatever Hermione said. Hermione needed someone who would challenge what she was doing, give her opposing views, help find ways maybe not to fix...because at this moment, fixing was a moot point...but make the situation better ... not always tell her that everything would be all right. The truth was, it was not all right. Having a husband beside her, supporting her, looking forward to the baby being born and the beginning of their new life: that would be all right.

Perhaps she shouldn't have been surprised, but Severus had filled the position of devil's advocate nicely. Not once had he told her that everything would be all right. In fact, he had told her that being a single mother would be one of the most difficult things she would have to endure and told her a story about someone he had known who had also decided to raise a child on her own. Yet, he did stress that being a parent...according to the people he knew who were parents...would end up being one of the most rewarding occupations of her life.

Deep down, she knew this to be true, but she still couldn't shake the feeling of having wronged her child right from the start, failing to give her child its rightful beginning. And she had chastised herself for letting herself down; her principles were generally much more conservative, and yet now she found herself paying closer attention to them a few months after the fact. Severus had smiled grimly when she'd said that and hadn't offered any platitudes or attempted to lessen the importance of what she was saying; instead, he had quietly nodded his head and contemplated for a moment.

When he had finally spoken, he held her rapt attention. "While that is true, you must know that even people of the highest moral fiber make mistakes; we're all human. Regardless that you've found yourself in such a situation, I admire that you normally hold yourself to a higher standard."

She had blushed at the compliment and actually felt a little better, for she had been beating herself up obsessively for a very long time. The subject of the baby's father, however, still had her on pins and needles. It seemed as though she'd been holding her breath the whole time they'd been talking, waiting for him to ask who it was, but he had carefully stepped around the topic, never directly addressing the question. He had, however, told her in no uncertain terms that he felt the father should know about the baby. If he were to get someone pregnant...and he'd assured her he never had...no matter how unexpected the situation, he would want to know that he had fathered a child.

"Oh, I don't know, Severus. He was pretty adamant about never wanting to have children. Plus...," she had said, looking down at her feet, "well, it was only one night, we aren't really involved, and ... well, he has a life now that would be completely destroyed if I were to tell him. I just don't have the heart to do that."

When he had hesitated, her attention had piqued. Did he suspect who the father was, she wondered? The possibility had had her stomach churning uncomfortably. If he found out Harry was the father, what would that do to their relationship? Not that they had one exactly, but she rather felt like they were developing one.

Eventually, he had said, "You know, Hermione, a child changes everything, not only for the mother but for the father as well. It will change not only the physical aspects of your life, but your opinions and views about the world will change too. It doesn't matter if the child is planned or unexpected, the result is the same. I'm sure that whoever it is would come around and learn to accept the fact that he is going to be a father. Even if he wants nothing to do with the child, at the very least he will know. And if he is truly a man, he will offer you some assistance."

She had looked Severus squarely in the eyes, his candidness a little unexpected. "I suppose you're right," she had conceded. "This is as much his responsibility as it is mine. It's just so ... hard."

At her faltering confession, Severus had laid his hand upon hers. "I know, Hermione. But doing the right thing is often the hardest thing to do."

. . .

Hermione had no idea how difficult it had been for Severus to say these things, or that he did indeed know who the father was, or that what he had really wanted to say was bugger the father, he would take care of her and the child. She had no idea how Severus felt about her, that he had been watching her out of a desire to take care of her, that he had gone into this joint venture with her because he couldn't stand to see something she wanted so badly to fail.

And Severus had no idea that Hermione was gradually growing feelings for him as well.

~ o ~

Hermione stared up at the looming castle as she slowly approached, admiring every cone-tipped tower, every turret, every gargoyle, trying as she always had to see it with virgin eyes. It was a breathtaking sight. She felt dwarfed by the magnificent stone towers that seemed to touch the clouds, miles of stone interrupted by scattered panes of glittering colored glass that went on forever. Amazing how she lived only a few minutes' walk away and yet hadn't been by for a visit since she'd graduated.

She didn't know exactly why that was. She loved the castle from the moment she had first seen it, and she had several very fond memories of her school years. But there also were some very horrid memories as well, ones that she would rather put behind her, truth be told. Ones that would no doubt be dredged up by a moving staircase, a certain hallway, or maybe even the Whomping Willow. The memories still affected her and pulled her nightly dreams in directions she was forced to follow.

She shuddered and pushed the more unpleasant thoughts aside. A pleasant visit with Professor McGonagall and perhaps have a nice walk about the grounds before heading back into town were exactly what she needed today. The happier memories deserved to be remembered just as often as the uglier ones after all.

Lost in her daydreaming, Hermione hadn't noticed the doors to the castle part until Professor McGonagall's words greeted her ears.

"Hermione!" Professor McGonagall looked as prim as ever, but the smile on her face was genuine and unforced, and the woman, in a fit of energy that belied her age, bustled down the steps to greet her ex-student. "How good it is to see you!"

"You too, Professor." Hermione smiled and gave the woman a warm, lingering hug. How she had missed her old professor, her head of house.

Professor McGonagall pulled back from the hug and held Hermione at arm's length to get a good look at her. The all-knowing sparkle in the woman's eyes was very reminiscent of the previous headmaster of the school, making Hermione wonder if that was something inherent of the position.

"Now, Hermione. You've been away for far too long," the headmistress scolded mildly. "I have a pot of tea waiting for us, and we can talk about why you're here. But most of all, I want to know about this."

She patted Hermione's protruding belly in a motherly fashion, making Hermione blush. At four-and-a-half months, none of her clothes fit anymore. She had resorted to wearing skirts with elastic waists and dresses that fit looser around the middle. Her wardrobe was rather sparse at the moment, and by looking at the stretch of material around her waist, it was obvious she was in dire need of a shopping trip.

"This? Um, well ... I'm pregnant?" Hermione felt as though she were admitting being out after curfew and at the same time felt very silly for it. She was a grown woman now, but being back at the castle made her feel very much like a student again.

Professor McGonagall chuckled at the shy confession and pulled Hermione into another hug. "I thought so! Oh, wonderful! I'm so happy for you! And who's the lucky father?"

The dreaded question. Hermione didn't allow herself to feel any guilt for the lie she was about to tell, and didn't have time to either, as Professor McGonagall wrapped an arm about her shoulders and began to lead her up the steps and through the main doors. She found herself falling comfortably into the lie she had repeated to more than one person in the last couple weeks.

"Oh, he's a Muggle, but he won't be playing an active role in the child's life, I'm afraid. I'm okay with that though. I have friends. Ginny's offered to help on more than one occasion."

The professor laughed and led Hermione toward the staircase that would take them to the seventh floor and the proffered tea. "I'm sure she has. There would be no one else I'd trust my child to than one of the Weasley women."

They fell into an easy banter, and before Hermione knew it, she was standing before the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the headmistress's office. The stony creature transported her back in time to school days long forgotten when the gargoyle had protected the office of Professor Dumbledore. Standing in front of it had meant something entirely different then. Her hesitation was noticed by the older woman, and a reassuring hand rested upon Hermione's arm in understanding before an uttered password granted them entrance.

The journey up the stone-grating spiral was silent, as though Professor McGonagall was as lost in her thoughts and memories as Hermione was. It was a strange hushed feeling of visiting someone's grave. With just the barest of nods and a smile, she invited Hermione into her office where a table had already been laid out with a wonderful tea service. The sight banished funereal feelings and memories from her mind, and she soaked in the unfamiliar surroundings.

Hermione was surprised at all the feminine touches. Not that she had previously seen this office too often, but the impression this place made when Dumbledore resided as headmaster was definitely more masculine, a little imposing, and awfully cluttered. The office was well-ordered, everything in its place, and there were pictures in frames on various shelves with a valued trinket occasionally placed among them. It was a home away from home to the current headmistress. The table at which she was invited to sit was clad in a muted red and black tartan cloth, and she noticed that the windows were swathed in draperies that matched. It was truly an office belonging to Professor McGonagall, and she voiced her appreciation.

"Yes, well, Albus was always so ... Well, let's just say he collected a lot of extraneous things. I've packed them all up and sent them into storage. I've told him if he wants to play with his toys, he'll have to unbox them himself." She chuckled when Hermione gave her a momentary perplexed look. "Of course you haven't forgotten Albus is still spiriting around here somewhere. Perhaps you'll see a bit of him later. He knows you were visiting today."

"Oh, I'd love that!" Hermione exclaimed. "I hadn't forgotten exactly. I guess I'm just not quite used to the idea. I've never seen a ghost of someone I knew when they were alive. And ... well, I never thought of Professor Dumbledore as being the type who would choose to be a ghost."

"You're not alone there, my dear. Many people haven't. He makes himself scarce though. Too many people try to use it to their advantage. The Ministry being the greatest culprit." Professor McGonagall pursed her lips. "They always find an excuse to corner Albus' ghost for one reason or another. For some reason, they're under the impression that he'll be more forthcoming dead than alive."

Hermione chuckled, wiped her fingers on her napkin, and picked up one of the delicate finger sandwiches that she had had her eye on before she had even sat down. They were as delicious as they looked. Small talk, tea, and sandwiches took the ladies' attention for a length of time, and then it was down to business. Hermione wanted to get a leg in this year with the incoming and returning students. She hoped Professor McGonagall would make a small mention on this year's supplies list that Strega Letteraria in Hogsmeade also carried the required textbooks. The 10% off coupons she had printed impressed Professor McGonagall greatly, and she agreed to include those with the letters as well.

It was very difficult to draw herself away from her old professor's company, but she insisted that a trip to Diagon Alley for new clothing was necessary. Professor McGonagall doted on her like a mother hen, offering any help she could spare to her and the baby, and Hermione suddenly felt wistful for her own mother, whom she still hadn't told about the pregnancy. Tears sprung into her eyes, which resulted in the old professor tut-tutting and giving her one last reassuring hug before sending her off and reminding her to look for Albus on her way to the gate.

Having closed the shop for the morning, not expecting many visitors at this time of day, she decided to make the rounds, visiting all the haunts she and Harry and Ron had frequented over the years, before heading on to Diagon Alley. The greenhouses where Professor Sprout taught her classes finally loomed in front of her, and the bobbing hat of the Herbology professor behind some overgrown foliage on the opposite side of the dingy windows made her smile. Long-awaited reunions weren't desirable today, especially in her condition, so she turned and walked in the other direction.

As she rounded the greenhouses, she found the rose garden was in full bloom, wonderfully fragrant, and inviting. Walking along the meandering paths, she found a stone bench to sit upon and rest her aching feet and back. It was a perfect place to let her mind wander, and wander it did ... right back to thinking about Severus.

The fact wasn't lost on her that she had very much been the damsel in distress and Severus, very much the knight in shining armor who swept in and saved the day. An in more than one way too: first by saving her business from sure demise, and second by saving her from Draco's vengeful attempt on her baby's life. Severus had stepped in when it had mattered the most and had come up with the support she needed to save her business; he had miraculously appeared at the right time to stop her from eating those deadly muffins, and now he was here to provide her honest and much-needed counsel.

Her mother had told her once, some years ago, that if a man went out of his way to look after a woman's well-being without being asked, he had feelings for her. Once more, Hermione tallied up everything Severus had done for her in the past few weeks, and she felt her cheeks flush pink. It was the only thing that made sense: he cared for her.

But how long he had felt this way...or how much...she wasn't sure. He seemed to have appeared out of the blue, knew her shop was in trouble, even her life for that matter, so that had to mean that he had been keeping tabs on her for quite some time. How else would he have known that Draco was about to poison her? Or that her business was in such dire straits? Sure, he could have read the Daily Prophet's advertisement section and seen that she had placed an ad, but he had responded to it awfully fast...as though he had anticipated it. A small part of her thrilled inside at the thought of Severus Snape fancying her. Another part of her wondered if perhaps she shouldn't be feeling a little alarmed that he knew so much about what was going on in her life. But she had known him for years. Perhaps it was a bit strange ... but wrong? No, her gut, which usually warned her of such things, didn't give her that sense at all ... in fact, exactly the opposite. It calmed, soothed, whenever she thought about this man, telling her everything was just right. The little fluttering thrills that joined in every so often told her that it was more than just right.

Almost painfully, she was startled right out of her pleasant reverie when, "Ah, Miss Granger. So nice to see you have finally come for a visit," was spoken right next to her ear.

She jumped, and the apparition next to her chuckled. Hand clutching her thudding heart so it wouldn't escape her chest, Hermione gasped and looked taken aback for a moment. She knew Albus Dumbledore was around, and had even looked forward to conversing with him, but she found that she was a just little unprepared to actually see him.

"Professor!" Hermione exclaimed, a little embarrassed at her reaction and hoping she hadn't offended him in any way. "I'm so sorry. I didn't hear you sit down...well, I don't suppose I would have, would I? How have you been?" She hadn't meant to draw attention to the fact that he was a ghost. Did proper etiquette demand one not bring up one's ghostly appearance to a ghost, she wondered?

"I've been fine ... just fine. You know, it's amazing all the parts of the castle I can explore now that I was never able to before." Professor Dumbledore winked at her, putting her mind at ease. "My, the roses are beautiful, aren't they? Pity I can no longer smell them. I used to enjoy the garden so much...."

Hermione looked squarely at the ghost for a moment, then looked away. She had so many questions she had no idea where to begin. Any small talk seemed superfluous, and she figured answers to any of her questions would come in riddles and elusive meanderings. She doubted death had changed that in the man.

Professor Dumbledore looked at her pointedly, shedding all pretense of small talk. "How is the bookshop faring? I heard that you have taken on a business partner."

Hermione pulled back slightly, wondering how he could have known. Then the realization hit her that he would have been told by Minerva. And if Minerva had thought to share the name of her business partner, undoubtedly Professor Dumbledore knew exactly who it was since he had helped Severus build his Samuel Prince persona.

"Fine, thanks," she answered, a little relieved at being able to talk to someone freely about her business partner without having to hide anything. "It's much better actually. My business partner has been a godsend."

"Hmm, indeed," the ghost replied in his usual, but more ethereal, knowing voice. He settled a little more solidly at her side, as if solidifying his unwavering resolve. "And how is Severus doing?"

The mention of Severus' name had her heart skipping beats and quickening its pace; whether out of anxiousness that his identity was being spoken of openly or the recent self-awareness of her feelings, she wasn't able to determine. Her cheeks flushed rose-colored, blending with their surroundings.

"Ah," Professor Dumbledore broke in before she had a chance to speak, "so he's doing just fine, is he?" A little smirk played about his lips, and his eyes brightened, though twinkling seemed to be impossible in his semi-transparent state.

"He's ... ah, yes, he's fine," she managed to say, clearing her throat and trying to reduce the redness in her face to no avail. "I see him regularly, almost nightly in fact." She had the distinct feeling that he could see through her as easily as she could see through him.

"Good, good. I'm glad to hear that." Professor Dumbledore looked at her squarely, smirking no longer. "And you? How do you feel about having Severus as your business partner?"

Darn if that blush hadn't become a permanent fixture. "I'm quite okay with it. I admit it was a shock at first. Though he is a different man than I knew him to be when he was teaching. More approachable. Less caustic. He's the same in some ways, different in others. He's certainly been there for me when I needed him the most, and for that I'll be eternally grateful. I mean, if it weren't for him, the bookshop ... Well, it's been a lifelong dream of mine, and..."

Albus nodded throughout, smiling. "I'm quite happy to hear he has made such a difference...and a positive one at that. But life isn't all about business ... business is something you do so having a life is possible." At Hermione's questioning look, he added, "I guess my question is how you feel about having Severus around, as something other than a business partner."

The audacity! was her first thought. Then she realized there was no one else she could talk to about this and relaxed. She knew what she felt; she just wasn't sure she was ready to tell anyone yet. Still, this was the headmaster, and she'd always had difficulty evading the truth around this man.

Her frustration dwindled to nothing as she replied, "I find it quite ... nice? Oh, that's not the word. I don't know. We have a lot in common, we talk a lot, he looks out for me, I feel so safe when I'm around him, and he cares for me; he must because he's always making sure I'm all right, that I have everything I need, and..."

Albus laughed. "And I take it this pleases you greatly."

Hermione nodded her head, her rambling dialogue reduced to speechlessness.

And then, "But what does he think of you being pregnant?" he asked gently.

"I, uh..." she looked shocked for a moment "...well, he wants me to tell the father about the baby. Said he'd want to know if he'd got someone pregnant...not that he has!" she quickly added.

With a chuckle, Albus replied, "To my knowledge, he never has, that's true. But have you told Severus who the baby's father is?"

A shocked "No, of course not!" escaped her lips before she could check it. Then more calmly, she replied, "No, I couldn't. I mean, if he knew..."

"You're afraid it would push him away," was the old man's answer, making Hermione stare hard at him, wondering if he knew Harry was the baby's father.

"You know, Miss Granger, being a ghost has taught me many things and afforded me different experiences. One being that ghosts have inherent knowledge of things in the universe. We are one with the aether, so to speak. So certain knowledge comes to us when bidden. People's feelings and thoughts are their own and do not pervade the aether, but their actions, physical happenings, those are facts that cannot be denied or changed and float in the aether for the gathering. So, yes, I know that Harry is the baby's father."

Hermione looked down at her feet, ashamed. Ashamed that her secret wasn't really a secret. Ashamed that Harry, the boy who had looked up to Dumbledore as a father and who Dumbledore looked upon as a son, was involved.

"Hermione," he called to her, lifting her head and her spirits, "Severus and Harry had their differences in the past, that is true. They may still have their differences even now, if they were able to have them properly. But Severus' heart is true. Never would he make another suffer for those differences. Know that, Hermione. Listen to Severus' advice, and trust him enough to confide in him. He's a good man. If you put your trust in him, he will devote himself to you unconditionally...."

Hermione stared at the spot, eyes unfocused, where Albus's ghost had simply faded away, thinking about what he had said. Some minutes later she seemed to awaken, a determination on her face that hadn't been there previously. As she stood, she realized that she hadn't had the chance to ask Professor Dumbledore all the questions that had been burning in her mind, but then again, what he had told her was infinitely more important than having questions answered about past events. This was her future. This was her child.

~ o ~

It was a day for simple potion brewing. He had purposefully re-filed the orders for more complicated, time-intensive, concentration-consuming potions and decided to work on simple things like pain relievers and sleep inducers. He couldn't keep his attention on swatting the midge, whose sole mission it was to annoy the hell out of him today, much less skin a shrivelfig. Chop, toss, and stir: that was about all he was up for.

The fact that his concentration was thoroughly scattered caused some consternation. And it was all over a woman. One of his father's favorite expressions, when he had been alive, had been, "Son, if it's over a woman, it's not worth it." Fortunately, the man had died a rather prolonged and painful death, which he silently credited to karma.

This woman, however, Severus found extremely worthy. Worthy of his attention, of his time, of anything he had to do to keep her safe and well taken care of. Their evenings together meant more to him than brewing potions, and that said a lot. He found himself increasingly more reluctant to leave every night, wanting to prolong what little time they had together. Even a few hours a night just didn't seem to be enough anymore.

Their conversation last night had stuck with him all night and into the morning, coloring his dreams and his waking thoughts. They had spoken of the subject now too far along to be avoided any longer: her baby. Though he had always believed Hermione to be too responsible to get pregnant, to hear from her own lips that the situation had been unexpected, the results unintentional, and to hear her voice concerns and worries over the welfare of the child had sent him falling over the edge, down the slippery slope from which no smitten man could climb, into the turbulent waters called love.

Yes, he realized it. He had been treading that path for some time now, but last night ... last night it had become a certainty, one he could no longer deny. He loved Hermione Granger. Baby and all.

He had encouraged her to tell the father, the father whom he was supposed to know nothing about but did, and if indeed Harry Potter became a part of the child's life, he would accept that as well. Because it was part of her. She had yet to admit the father's identity to him, but when she finally got the courage to tell Harry, telling him would become inevitable. Severus found himself rehearsing his reaction as she revealed the father's identity, making sure that his response would be one he...and she...would be proud of. He was pretty sure that any feelings that would have him going off half-cocked were pretty much under control by now.

A regal tap-tap-tap at the window brought his attention back to an empty cauldron and a potion not even begun. Sighing, he set down the knife he found himself uselessly holding and walked over to the window to greet the most pompous looking owl he'd ever seen. The bird stepped onto the ledge, and its beak jerked haughtily upward as it held out its leg, waiting for Severus to take the message. It was almost laughable. That is, until Severus saw whom the note was from.

Draco. The pretentious little brat had got himself a new owl. That figured. He was sure he'd hear all about what excellent stock it had come from, and so on and so forth. He hoped Draco at least had the decency to keep his mother within her comfort zone rather than squandering his spoils...because that's what they undoubtedly were...on firewhisky and escorts and owls of exceptional breeding.

Opening the seal on the flap, he unfolded the parchment to find Draco was in one of his more stroppier moods.

Severus,

Since I haven't heard from you in a month, I can only assume you are still doing your part for my father. It has crossed my mind, however, that you might renege on your responsibility.

Strangely enough, certain information has fallen into my hands regarding a business venture you are currently involved in. No need to ask how I found out, but note that while Samuel Prince might fool most, I am simply not that ignorant. You can imagine how betrayed I felt when I discovered you were business partners with that Mudblood, the very one who attempted to end my father's life. You might also imagine how surprised I was, when I was in Hogsmeade the other day, to find that the little trollop was still pregnant. Something you conveniently forgot to inform me of at your last visit.

Putting all the facts together was quite simple, really, and it suddenly became obvious that you weren't quite truthful when you said you would help me. I waited beyond the week you said it would take to brew the potions before following the trail that led to your current occupation ... or should I say 'occupations'?

I will make this very clear to you, Severus. Your unwillingness to help me will directly affect one of your 'occupations'. I wonder what you shall do without her occupying most of your time. Brewing perhaps?

Draco

Severus blanched. Then he quickly shoved the note into his pocket as he ran up the stairs to check the mirrors that linked to the bookshop.

"Audio!" He tapped his little earpiece, worn throughout the day from force of habit. He was met with only silence.

He reached the set of matched, linked mirrors and gazed at each one in turn, and then at each one again in case he had missed something or she had simply been out of range when he'd looked at them before. Nothing. It looked as though no one was in the shop.

Hastily performing the charms that would transform him into Samuel Prince, and then a few extra to ward his home, he grabbed his cane, stepped out the front door, and Disapparated.

~ o ~

Since it was only eleven o'clock, Hermione figured she had plenty of time to Apparate to the Leaky Cauldron, visit Madam Zelda's Maternity Shoppe and get back to open the bookshop at one. The thought of buying clothes that actually fit made her almost giddy with excitement.

Tom greeted her as she appeared inside of the Apparition point, but halfway through his customary question of whether she'd like something to drink, he looked up, eyes widening, and smoothly changed his question to: "Alright, Miss Granger! Could I interest you in a ... milk?"

"No, thank you," Hermione said laughingly. "I'm just passing through today, Tom. Got some shopping to do, as you can see." She profiled her belly for him, her upbeat attitude making her bolder than usual.

"No idea you were in the club, young lady. Who's the lucky guy?"

Always the same bloody question, she thought, but cheeringly replied, "Oh, no one you'd know, but we're very happy!"

"Well, that's just bangin'! Get yerself going, then; got lots to do by the look of it!" Tom answered and went back to putting away crockery.

Stepping out onto the pavement on the wizard side of the Leaky Cauldron, she had to move to avoid an unusually large crowd. It was summer, and while many local witches and wizards went on holiday, students who were usually in school were free to roam as they pleased, and there were many foreign witches and wizards who travelled to visit the London wizarding community. They'd had their share in Hogsmeade as well. Diagon Alley affected a more circus-like atmosphere, however, and attracted more hooligans than Hogsmeade, and for that Hermione was grateful she could go home and not have to deal with the dross of society.

She adeptly side-stepped the buskers and tourists who didn't mind they had come to a complete stop in the middle of the pavement and eventually made it, a little breathlessly, to Madam Zelda's. Thankfully, when she went in, the older proprietress was free and approached her immediately, gently shoved a cup of herbal tea into her hand, and led her to the counter to look through various catalogues. Madam Zelda did all the thinking for her, knew exactly what she needed, what was necessary, what wasn't...Hermione had told her she had a budget...and soon had her trying on skirts, dresses, jumpers, and added a few knickers and bras for good measure. By the time Hermione had paid and left the store, all she could think about was getting home and changing into one of her new outfits.

The crowd seemed to be even heavier than when she'd arrived, and she glanced at her watch: only twelve thirty. It was lunchtime, but no one seemed to be mindful of that fact. She got bustled about by unseeing people, not noticing that they were shoving around a pregnant woman, yet she managed to remain on her feet and keep moving in the general direction of the Leaky Cauldron.

After one particularly nasty sod slammed into her shoulder without even a hint of an apology, a hand reached out and grabbed her elbow before gravity had her bum meeting the pavement. She turned to thank the helpful stranger ... but lost all ability to speak as her eyes met with a familiar icy-blue gaze.

"I should have let you fall, Granger, but I have something better planned for you." Hate froze his words and shards broke off and prickled up her spine, making her feel lightheaded.

Unable to respond, she felt him drag her out of the crowd and into the narrow, cramped alley that separated two buildings, where only a dustbin and a couple rats resided. She thought, I should be yelling for help, but no words came. Possibilities of what he might do couldn't even occur to her; her mind was frozen with fear. But she did think of all the new clothes she had just purchased...and still clutched tightly in one hand...and knew instinctively that she would no longer have reason to wear them. And that thought, that one single thought, broke the dam that prevented her mind and voice from functioning, and she began to scream.

"Stay away from me! Don't you dare hurt my baby!"

She swung the packages at him, aiming for his head, missed, and swung again. Draco laughed. His tone mimicked her, and chills swept up her spine. Still, she fought.

"I am going to teach you, and your gallant business partner, a lesson once and for all. Do you hear me, Mudblood? And when I'm through with you, your life will be as empty and useless as my father's."

The words struck like knives, felt like knives ... infinitesimal cuts penetrating her body, bleeding away her resolve. The fight was leaving her. She tried to scream, to fight back, but Draco was retreating, gloating, and she knew he had done something ...

She slumped to the ground, the shopping bag's wares spilling all around her. Then a door opened into the narrow alley, a backdoor to one of the shops, and a portly woman was asking her if she was all right and yelling for someone to get a Healer ... and Hermione felt herself slipping into unconsciousness.

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Author's Note: My never-ending thanks go to my beta, Southern_Witch_69 who caught several things that needed to be fixed and asked all the picky questions. Another thank you must go to ladyinthecloak, who begged me to have a peek at the chapter and I let her on the condition that she alert me to any mistakes or Americanisms. One of my goals in this story is to not only get rid of my Americanisms but use as much Britglish as I possibly can to make the story more authentic.

Way back in Chapter One, I made brief mention of Albus's ghost. At that time, one of the reviewers expressed difficulty in believing that Albus would come back as a ghost, claiming that it went against her picture of his personality. I could see her point. However, since then, I've endeavored to bring Albus's ghost into the story as a minor character, even though I didn't plan to originally, in order to explain why I think this would be possible. The reason will become more obvious in a future chapter, but if you read closely, it was answered subtly in this one.

Finally, I must admit I borrowed the name Zelda from R J Lupins Kat, who just finished her most gloriously written story (SB/HG), The Valiant Never. Her Aunt Zelda was such an intriguing and lovable character, I borrowed the name for a minor character, though my character is nothing like her namesake.