Chapter Sixteen

Disclaimer: JKR owns the characters and the universe. I'm just giving them a little dose of reality....

Chapter Sixteen

Severus remained a few selfish minutes longer at Hermione's side, simply relishing that she was there with him ... that she was even there at all. My God, he thought, by all rights, she shouldn't be lying in this bed, certainly not in hospital. Morbidly, he pictured her cold and unresponsive at Talon & Crane's, laid out on a table for identification purposes. If the proprietress of that shop hadn't gone off for a fag at that exact moment ... Well, he felt fairly dizzy and nauseous at the direction his thoughts were taking him, and he resolved to banish them forever from his mind.

Severus had meant every word he had said to Hermione. Everything he did now, he did with her in mind. Never mind that they were now business partners, which he had indeed done entirely for her. Literally, she was constantly on his mind: He woke up in the morning wondering if she had slept well and if she had awoken yet. He brewed potions at times he knew she wouldn't have need of him. He never failed to ask if he could pick something up for her when he ran errands. Hell, he even bought food and cooked meals he knew she would like, regardless she wasn't there. As he had said: without her, his life was meaningless.

They spoke for a while, drawing out his visit as long as possible without offending anyone...too much. There was a corridor full of people waiting to see her, and it had to be decided what she would tell them.

Once the question had been posed, she remained silent for a time, then turned her face towards him, though her eyes didn't directly meet his in their unfocused state. "Severus, I..." Unable to continue, she just stared off helplessly in the other direction.

"Perhaps I should tell them you're still too weak. They can wait until you have slept a bit, gathered more strength..."

"No," she said then, looking back towards him. "No. I am going to do this, and I'm going to do this now. Everyone...all the people I need to speak to are here anyway. I might as well get it over with."

He hesitated. He was one of those people, and he was here now. How much of what he already knew should he let on? A quick moment's thought made his decision to act as though he knew nothing. And because she couldn't see him clearly, he only had to worry about his voice giving him away.

"Everyone?" he asked quietly, encouragingly.

Her eyes wavered, the unfocused stare giving a false impression of indifference as she looked away once more, and she sighed. "Yes, Severus. Everyone. Gods, I need to tell you...and it's so bloody hard. I can only imagine what you will think of me..."

He wasn't able to withstand the suffering in her voice. She had already had a day that was too difficult for anyone to bear, and with circumstances being what they were, she had to add a few really difficult conversations to her list of burdens. The least he could do was make it a little easier on her.

"Harry is the father of the baby, isn't he?" All judgment, all condescension, all distaste for the boy he had previously harbored was completely absent from his voice. And it startled him that those feelings no longer existed; though, he had to admit, even without daily contact, he still found Potter to be rather annoying.

She looked up, startled, and gasped a "Yes" through fresh tears.

He just held her and let her cry. Because telling Harry would be infinitely more difficult than telling him had just been. Because telling her parents would be equally as difficult, he imagined. And telling Ginny ... Well, he didn't feel like being around when Hermione told her, being very familiar with the way Weasley women dealt with shocking news.

When she had finally settled somewhat, he helped to straighten her bedclothes once more, neaten her hair that seemed to want to resist any form of order, and wipe her eyes and nose gently to erase all evidence of her tears. She smiled at him gratefully and asked tremulously, "You don't...you don't think any differently of me, do you?"

That she was so worried how he felt, how he thought of her, had melted his heart. And this unfamiliar feeling startled him a bit too. "Of course not," he assured her. "I said 'I love you,' and I meant it with all my heart. I also said I wanted to take care of you, and I meant that too. I promise you, Hermione, you have nothing to fear. I will always be here, and I will take care of you."

She visibly relaxed at his words, and he saw the contentment on her face ... and something else. He almost wasn't able to describe it. And then, suddenly, realization dawned on him: all worry had vanished. She had been worried, about her bookshop, about her pregnancy, about the baby not having a father, about not having told her parents, about so many things for so long that it had become permanently etched upon her face. But now, not one line of worry crossed her features. How it could be after a day like this, he didn't know, but she looked as if she had finally found peace.

He squeezed her hand and silently turned to leave the room. When he reached the door, he looked back upon her serene face and said, though at this point it was probably unnecessary, "Be strong. I'll be right outside the door if you need me."

~ o ~

"Mum, really, I'm fine," Hermione complained as her mother hovered alternately next to her and over her and asked what seemed like a million unnecessary questions.

"Are you sure you're warm enough, dear? I wager I could get one of those nurses to get you another blanket. Here, let me pull this blanket up a bit ... Oh, this won't do. Frank, go ask a nurse for another blanket. I brought a toothbrush and a bit of toothpaste, Hermione...they're samples from the office; the toothpaste won't last for more than three or four days if you are brushing correctly, so I brought a few...oh, and a hairbrush, though I didn't think to bring any conditioner ... Do you think they'll let you wash your hair? I could ring up the chemist and see if they have conditioner ... Wait, there isn't a telephone. Do they have chemists here...?"

"You're doing it again, dear," Mr. Granger kindly told his wife, to Hermione's immense relief.

"I know," her mother said, "but I just want to make sure everything is all right. Our baby is having a baby, Frank, and someone needs to take care of her! And how do we know that ... that...oh, what was his name?"

"Draco, Mum," Hermione dutifully responded.

"Yes. How do we know that ... that ... cretin Draco...sorry, dear...won't come back and try to hurt her again while she's in hospital. Oh, Frank, maybe we should stay here. I'm positive the nurses would let us stay here if we asked nicely."

"We'll stay in the hotel, Jean. It's already paid for, and Hermione will be just fine. Won't you, luv?"

"Yes, Dad." Hermione smiled, though she couldn't see either of them well. Hearing their banter back and forth was so comforting. She had missed that so much these past months with them gone on extended holiday.

Telling them about the baby hadn't been so bad, really. She had immediately owned up to Harry being the father, but had told them also...and rather embarrassedly...that it had been a one-night fling, and Harry didn't know yet...and she had no idea how he'd take it...so would they please not say anything to anyone when they left? Her parents promised her they'd say their goodbyes..."It is only polite!" her mother insisted...and leave promptly so as not to get caught up in any conversation.

She heard her mother sniff and could imagine her dad with one arm wrapped around her mum's shoulders, as he always did when comforting his wife. Hermione felt bad suddenly. She didn't know if her mother worried for her because she was pregnant or because she'd been attacked. Probably both, though. Her mother wasn't the sort to judge anyone, even her daughter. "Whatever is cannot be changed," she'd always said when Hermione was growing up. "You can't complain about it; you just have to learn how to deal with it." Well, this was one of those times.

"I'm fine, really, Mum. If you worry, I'll just feel worse. Dad, watch that she doesn't worry?" she asked her dad, hoping that she was at least meeting his eyes. She didn't want her injuries to be more obvious than they already were.

"I will, luv. You get your rest. You need it more than ever now. Need to take care of the little nipper, you know," her dad responded, and she could hear a tone in his voice she'd never heard before, but she knew in that moment that he'd be a phenomenal grandfather. "We'll be at the hotel. I left the telephone number on the ... Well," he laughed, "I guess there aren't any telephones here. The number is on your bedside table if you need it. Someone could make the call for you perhaps?"

"Yes, Dad. If I need you, I'll have someone place the call for me." She smiled, knowing they weren't used to Healers, wand diagnostics...the Healer had come in to check her vitals earlier while they were visiting, and they had looked on in utter fascination...and phoneless hospitals.

"Maybe that Mr. Prince could help you out," her mother said thoughtfully, which Hermione knew meant her mother suspected there was something between the two of them. "He seemed awfully nice..."

"He is awfully nice, Mum." Hermione laughed. "Now, go before..."

"I'm only saying," her mother interrupted, "if Harry isn't available to take care of you and the baby, maybe Mr...."

"Mum!" Hermione shouted, scandalized. Leave it to her mother to pick up certain vibes, as she always did, when it came to Hermione's love life.

"Alright! We're going, we're going!" her mother shouted back.

"We'll see you in the morning, Hermione," her father added, chuckling, and Hermione was relieved to hear their voices retreating towards the door.

"Just make sure Mr. Prince looks out for you!"

"Jean! Why do you always need to get in the last word?" her father scolded, and the door was promptly opened and shut, leaving Hermione in peace.

She laughed a little, happy that her parents had cut their trip short. They were just what she needed today. They always knew how to lighten a mood, and hers needed lightening right now. She sighed, took a deep breath and slowly let it out. A fluttering had begun in her stomach, which she was sure had nothing to do with the baby. She knew what she had to do next. She had given Severus specific instructions on whom to send in first, and so on. She had felt she owed it to her parents to tell them first, just because, well, they were her parents. But she couldn't very well tell anyone else until she had spoken with Harry, as much as she would have liked to put it off.

While she waited for her next visitor, she tried experimentally to lift her hand. Surprisingly, she was actually able to raise it from the bed beside her and rest it on her stomach, though still with some effort. Still, it was reassuring that the potions were working. She hoped that by tomorrow she'd be able to see better. The Healer had as much as promised she would, but Hermione didn't want to get her hopes up. As it was, it was probably best that she couldn't see properly right now. She really didn't want to see Harry's face when...

"Hermione?" The voice came from the door, but she heard no movement: no footsteps, no rustling of trouser legs or robes, no breathing, nothing.

"Harry?" she asked, thinking that perhaps he had taken one look, changed his mind, and gone.

"Uh ... yeah."

The finality in his voice made her feel instantly leery. When she didn't hear him come any closer, she encouraged him. "Harry, you have to come closer. I can't see very good right now, but if you come nearer, at least I'll know you're here."

Footsteps slowly approached from the door. Not hesitantly, though definitely not assuredly, just slowly, the way one would walk if expecting a bad bit of news...though maybe that was her imagination playing with her. His blurry outline stopped next to the bed, and she tried to raise her hand to hold his, but she wasn't able to raise it very far. And he made no attempt to reach for it.

"Harry, I..."

"You're pregnant," he said matter-of-factly, cutting her off.

"Yes," she agreed and remained silent, waiting for him to continue, as she could sense he had more to say and thought perhaps it might be best to let him say it before she said anything.

"I didn't know. Ginny knows. I heard her and McGonagall talking ... I didn't believe them." He stopped speaking for a while, then as though he had just thought of something, said, "Why didn't Ginny tell anyone?"

"I asked her not to," Hermione replied simply.

"Is it Mr. Prince's? Because I saw him in the hallway. He seems like a halfway decent bloke. A bit snobbish for my taste but..."

The hopefulness in his voice made her cringe inwardly. She had to stop him before he started getting the wrong impression. "No, Harry, it's not Samuel's."

"Well, whose then?" he asked, though his voice seemed to get a little smaller, and Hermione could sense the hopefulness in him dwindle.

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly to give her the strength she felt she didn't have. "I've only been with one man in the last year...well, actually, make that two and a half years," she half-laughed in embarrassment, "so I guess it's pretty obvious."

"How...? I mean, when...? What are you telling me, Hermione? That this is my baby? I can't have a baby. I'm married, Hermione. I married Ellie because neither of us want kids, and here you're telling me that I'm going to have a kid?!" he began to shout.

"Harry, if you're going to yell, put up a Silencing Charm. I don't have my wand," she scolded.

"Silencio!" he yelled, his voice aimed in the opposite direction, so she was certain he didn't just hex her. "Hermione. You knew I didn't want to have children. Gods, I broke up with Ginny because she wanted children and I didn't want any! Breaking up with her was more difficult than ... than killing Voldemort, and finding someone who I loved and felt the same way I did wasn't exactly easy either!"

"You think I did this on purpose, Harry?" she asked in matching tone. "Do you really think I planned this, that at the time, with my bookshop failing and barely having any money to support myself, that I would actually plan to have a baby?"

"Well, I don't know what you'd do anymore!" he shouted. "I have plenty of money. Perhaps the money I'd give the child was enough..."

"Harry James Potter!" she exclaimed. "How dare you! How dare you imply that I used you to get at your money. How dare you accuse me of putting a child in a precarious position just because I was practically destitute. Believe me, if I had needed money that badly, I'd have just asked you for it. You should feel ashamed of yourself!"

"Me?" he shouted back. "Me. I should be the one ashamed of myself? Look at you. You're the one advertising for the whole wizarding world to see that you are unmarried and pregnant. I suppose you'll have the reporters knocking at your door now that Hermione Granger is carrying the son of Harry Potter! How bloody fortunate for you! I'm sure Rita Skeeter will have nothing but glowing things to say about you and the baby! And me. Well, I might as well dig my own grave now and climb in because I'll never recover from the shame this is going to cause. I can just see the headlines now: Hermione Granger, Mistress of Boy Who Lived, is Preggers!"

"First of all," she snapped back, "it's a girl, not a boy. Secondly, aside from my parents and Samuel, I've told no one. Not even Ginny. She thinks I got pregnant by a Muggle and that he wants no part in the baby's life. Thirdly ... well, yes, I do rather feel like a walking billboard for unwed pregnant mothers, but I am not letting it affect the way I feel about this child. This child is mine, Harry Potter. You had a part in creating it, that's true. But it is obvious...and it was obvious well before I got pregnant...that you want nothing to do with children, and I won't force you to have anything to do with this one.

"But let me tell you, Mr. Potter, if you make the decision now to have nothing to do with this child, you cannot change your mind in ten years and expect to be welcome, either by me or my daughter. You are married. I don't expect you to give that up, nor do I want you to. Whether you tell Ellie about this or not is your choice. But I've gone on with my life with the realization that you and Ellie are married and that is not going to change. I've done the best that I could, and I feel I have a pretty good future shaping up, so make your decision. Just keep this in mind: if you choose not to have anything to do with her, you are not her father. Her father will be the man who is there when she falls down and scrapes her knee, who teaches her how to fly her first broom, who holds her when she has a bad dream, who stays up with her when she's sick. You might have donated the genetic material, but don't worry, a father you don't have to be."

She was exhausted from her tirade, but Harry deserved it. He had no right to be angry with her. He was as responsible as she was for this pregnancy. If anything, he should be angry that she had taken this long to tell him about it, not that she was pregnant!

His silence said volumes. She knew he was glowering, much like he always had when something had upset him, which meant he probably wasn't going to say much else.

She waited about a minute, until she felt the silence had gone on long enough. "Well, Harry? What's it going to be? Because I'd like to get on with my life, thank you very much."

"Go on with your life, Hermione. It doesn't matter one whit to me. I'll do what's right of course, and I'll arrange a monthly transfer of funds with Gringotts to support the child. But that's as far as it will go. I will not tell Ellie, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone else. Not even Ginny. I don't need the truth getting back to Ellie." His voice was cold and detached. She'd never heard him speak in such a tone before, not even when he and Ron had had a disagreement and weren't speaking to each other.

"All right," she agreed. "For the sake of your marriage, I will go on lying to my best friend. It's the least I can do."

He snorted as if to say there was a lot more she could have done, and that piqued her ire.

"This is just as much your fault as it is mine, Harry," she said, "no matter what you choose to tell yourself."

"Yeah, well, whatever," he replied disdainfully. "But you are the one who chose to keep this child..."

"You're bloody right I decided to keep this child. I wonder if you would have had the courage to end an innocent life. Because that's what this is, Harry. She's innocent. Why should I make her suffer for our mistake? How unfair would that be to her? I wouldn't be able to live with myself. Even during the war, we aimed to disarm and disable the Death Eaters and only killed when absolutely necessary. This child is no Death Eater. She's a baby. She's pure and innocent and hasn't had a chance to live yet. I am going to give her that chance, Harry, because I don't believe in ending someone's life just because it's inconvenient," she spat in his direction. At this point, she didn't know whether it was pity she felt for him or hatred. She figured it was a bit of both.

"I suppose you have it all figured out, then," he deadpanned with finality. "I told you what I'd do, and I'll do it. You won't have to worry about me returning in the future to claim rights to your child."

She nodded silently. Saying anything else would prove futile. His was a very thick head, and when he had an opinion, it generally could not be changed. She heard footsteps, firm and determined, heading for the door and felt relieved, not only because she'd finally told him but also that he was leaving.

The door opened, and she thought he would leave without another word, but to his credit, he did say, "I hope you feel better," before the door shut behind him.

~ o ~

Severus noticed when Harry left Hermione's room. He looked serious. No, he looked angry but was trying to mask it as seriousness...or probably concern over Hermione's condition; it was difficult to tell. Harry had never been entirely successful in hiding his emotions, but it didn't matter at the moment because he merely nodded in Professor McGonagall's direction and continued on down the hallway. Ginny, Mrs. Weasley and Professor McGonagall exchanged a look, shrugged their shoulders, and started for Hermione's room, Mrs. Weasley bustling to the fore.

Severus' attention turned back to the team of Aurors, who had stepped off the lift just a couple minutes earlier and were no doubt waiting to see Hermione. He silently felt out the strength of his glamours and sighed. The Aurors were regarding him with keen interest now that he was the only remaining "visitor" in the corridor. Rather than prolong the anticipation, he walked over to the group of men and women.

One of the men looked up as Mr. Prince approached and nudged the woman next to him. "Hello, sir. I assume you're familiar with Miss Granger?" he asked while the female Auror got her quill and notepad ready and seemed to be appraising him.

"Yes, I am very familiar with her. She's my partner," Mr. Prince replied.

"Would that be, erm, spouse, boyfriend ... what exactly, Mister...?" the female Auror asked for clarification.

"Prince," he said. "Samuel Prince. And I'm her business partner. Any other relationship I have with her I'm afraid is none of your business."

"Oh, but I think it is, Mr. Prince. You see..."

"And you are?" he interrupted the female Auror, deciding at that point to be helpful, but not too helpful. They may be an excellent asset in deterring Draco from further attacks, but an inquest on his personal affairs was simply unacceptable.

"Auror Banks," she replied tartly. "And this here is Auror MacMillan."

Severus looked askance at the male Auror to see if he had any resemblance to Ernie MacMillan, but he thankfully didn't see any. The glamours were pretty much failsafe, but one never knew when an Auror would see right through one, especially if they spotted a similarity.

"As I was saying, Mr. Prince, we must have any and all information regarding the attack on Hermione Granger so that it's investigated properly. Your relationship with her is an important part of the puzzle, whether you think so or not," she stated imperiously.

Gods, he hated Aurors.

"Very well, we do have a more intimate relationship," he supplied, "though I am not her spouse, and I would not consider myself a boyfriend at my age."

MacMillan chuckled. "Of course not, sir. I heard she's pregnant. The child is yours then?"

Mr. Prince looked challengingly down his nose at the man. "Biologically ... no."

Banks scribbled something with her quill as Mr. Prince rolled his eyes. "I do not see what this has to do with anything. You should be finding the man who attacked Hermione and interrogating him, not me."

"We're getting to that, Mr. Prince. But since you bring it up, any information you have would be appreciated," MacMillan said, "though we really need to speak with the victim herself. Unless you were a witness...?"

"No, I wasn't a witness, but I..." he started, but was quickly cut off by Banks.

"If you weren't a witness to the crime, Mr. Prince, whatever you tell us would be hearsay and would not stand up as proof in front of the Wizengamot. Therefore, I suggest you keep silent on the matter."

Banks tucked her quill and notebook into her robes, signaling they were finished asking him questions. It was just as well. If they had asked him who had attacked Hermione, he wasn't sure he'd have obliged. Draco knew who Mr. Prince was. Severus had no doubt if Draco were confronted by Aurors with his crime, a bit of extraneous information might just 'inadvertently' slip about the true identity of Hermione's business partner. He couldn't allow that to happen.

"If you would excuse us, Mr. Prince," another Auror stepped forward. "My name is Robards, Head of the Auror Office, would you mind terribly if we spoke to Miss Granger?"

While slightly mollified at the Head Auror's politeness, he had to wonder what his interest in this case was. Mr. Prince answered, "She has visitors right now, but I'm sure they can wait in the hallway while you speak with her. I would appreciate being in the room as well, if you don't mind. Hermione's had a very upsetting day."

"Of course, of course, Mr. Prince. That will be fine. Shall we?" Robards indicated the door, inviting Mr. Prince to precede him.

~ o ~

He had indeed preceded them into the room, intent on getting to Hermione before the Aurors did. The three females were standing close by the bed, Molly Weasley adjusting a second pillow beneath Hermione's head to make her more comfortable and conjuring another to place behind the small of her back. McGonagall and Ginny had enough sense not to interfere while Molly mothered Hermione a bit. Everyone knew that it was in Molly's nature to do such things.

"My dear, these Healers just don't think of these things. You wouldn't believe what I had to do when Arthur was here!" Molly exclaimed as she asked if Hermione felt more comfortable, if she needed anything else.

Hermione was laughing and assured Mrs. Weasley that whatever she'd done helped "oh, so much" and "thank you, Mrs. Weasley, you always know how to make someone feel better."

The three women looked up at Mr. Prince's entrance and saw the flock of Aurors hovering about the doorway. Hermione, too, turned her head in his direction, no doubt knowing it was him by the thud of his cane opposite each footfall.

"Ladies." He nodded as he greeted them and stopped at the side of the patient's bed opposite her visitors. Hermione's head settled in his direction, her eyes not focused, but certainly conveying her curiosity. "The Aurors are here to question Hermione on what happened during the attack."

Professor McGonagall eyed the Aurors with a suspicious eye. "So many? Looks a bit much," she said querulously. "Isn't that Head Auror Robards?" Her voice rose in pitch at the second question.

"Indeed it is," Mr. Prince answered. "And before you ask, I have no idea why he found this case important enough to attend personally, nor why there needs to be more than the customary pair of Aurors on this case."

"Well, Hermione played an important part during the war. Didn't you, dear?" Mrs. Weasley patted Hermione's hand reassuringly. "That's probably all it is."

"Probably," Mr. Prince outwardly agreed. "In any case, they've allowed me to be present during her questioning, but have asked that you ladies step out until they're through."

"Well, I for one could use a spot of tea," Professor McGonagall said. "And we need to get Ginny off those feet as well, so, ladies, what say we make a trip to the Visitors' Tearoom upstairs?"

"Sounds just lovely!" Mrs. Weasley answered and turned to her daughter. "I'm sorry, dear, I should have conjured a chair for you."

"Don't think on it, Mum. I wouldn't have sat anyway," Ginny reassured her mother, who was now holding Ginny's elbow as though she couldn't walk in her condition without help. "Hermione, we'll be back later. Just ... try not to let the Aurors upset you too much."

"I won't," Hermione promised.

When Severus took her hand and sat on the bed next to her, she tried to meet his gaze, though she looked slightly to the left and a tad too high.

"Hermione," he whispered as the three women slowly made for the door...Ginny seemed to have cottoned on that Mr. Prince wanted to speak with Hermione before the Aurors came in and was playing up her 'condition.' "I am going to perform Legilimency on you, so let me turn your head just a bit ... there. I can now look in your eyes. I am not going to look at your memories. Instead, concentrate on the images I am releasing. We have little time, and I don't want the Aurors aware of anything."

"All right," she whispered with a smile. And with a quietly incanted "Legilimens!" Severus slipped into her mind.

A piece of parchment removed from an owl's leg; a feeling of annoyance as the letter was unfolded, revealing it was from Draco; 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; panic rising in her chest, mimicking his, as he read the final lines: I will make this very clear to you, Severus. Your unwillingness to help me will directly affect one of your 'occupations'; panic settled into mutual worry as mental pictures segued into a mental voice that said, "If Draco is captured by Aurors, there'll be no doubt he'd let slip your business partner's true identity. We can't let that happen. Make no mistake, I will take care of Draco, and he won't be able to hurt you any longer."

When Severus ceased the connection, he saw out of his peripheral vision that the Aurors had entered the room. He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips.

"I love you, Hermione. It'll be okay. I'll be with you," he said as much for her benefit as for the group of Aurors now clustering around her bed.

"I love you, too," Hermione answered, and the Aurors had a firm impression of just how deep their partnership went.