For Every Action

Chapter II

When I woke up, I didn't open my eyes. Just the smell told me of my location: The Hospital Wing. Carefully, I shifted my position; I had feeling everywhere, even though my left side was slightly sore.

Opening my eyes slowly, the room slid into focus. To my right was Draco, slumped over on a foldout chair, his arms resting on his knees, his forehead buried in his palms. I smiled at him, sleeping in such an odd position.

Am I going to see him every morning? Will we get married? Sudden thoughts flooded through me and as a headache mounted I reached for a glass of water. Finding one on the bedside table, I took several swallows and the pain subsided. A stirring in the chair told me Draco was alert.

"Good, you're awake," said Draco thickly. As he rubbed his eyes, I could see that sleep clearly hadn't worn off.

"I see you are too," I giggled back. I was light-headed, and all reason had escaped me.

"Listen, Harry won't tell anyone," he said.

I nodded. "Okay."

"So, have you decided?" he asked. I shot him a quizzical look, but he just pointed to my stomach.

"Oh, yes. That. Well, no, not really. I thought that, if you were really serious, I'd keep it. But, seen as Harry's abandoned me, I don't think I could do it if I had to look after it myself. If we don't stay together, there will be no little Malfoy."

"Listen, Hermione, I think it's wrong to kill any unborn child. I really do. That's part of the reason I want to keep it. The other is, well," he paused uncertainly. "I think I've fallen in love with you." I sat there for a minute, somewhat stunned.

"Draco, it's going to take me a while before I'll be able to sort out my feelings. After all, I just broke up with Harry yesterday, but you mean so much to me as well. Look, I don't think it's right to kill a defenseless child either. I really like you Draco. I do," I finished lamely, trying to separate thoughts from what was actually occurring.

"Are you saying that just because you have no other choice?" he asked defensively.

"No, Draco, no. I'm serious. I admire that you're offering to support me, but do you really want to throw your life away like that? I mean, we'd be eighteen, with a baby, and no job. What about your father? What's he going to do? And then there are my parents. I haven't told them yet."

"My father can't do anything. Thankfully, my mother set up a fund for me at my birth, and one-tenth of his yearly income went into it. Now, only I can access a large fortune buried deep within Gringotts. We'd do alright. And I wouldn't be throwing my life away. After you have this child, will you want to have more?" He's talking like I already said I'd stay with him!

"If we got married, and it worked out, yes, I would consider it. I would definitely consider having more children," I answered. Draco smiled in return.

"Come on, we've got to get to class. Are you all right to stand?"

I nodded, and slid off the covers. I still had my robes on, and after a quick check in the mirror and a magical application of makeup, I was good to go. Monday mornings, Slytherins and Gryffindors had Care of Magical Creatures together, while in the afternoon, they shared the Potions room.

At least I've got someone to talk to...to sit with...to help. Once again, I felt on the brink of tears, with thoughts of assisting Harry and Ron in classes, especially Potions. Well, I would see what I could do about Ron, but not much else could be done about Harry. He had his mind firmly set that I was the epitome of all evil, and I didn't think there was much I could do to change that.

As I came out of the Hospital Wing, with a note of excuse for both myself and Draco, he slid his arm around my shoulder, and as I put mine across the small of his back, we set off down to the Grounds to Care of Magical Creatures.

"What about my parchment? And quills?" I asked him.

"Oh, don't worry," he consoled, "you can borrow mine. I've a few extra in my bag." He pointed to the brown sack resting on his hip, supported by a thick corduroy strap effectively clamped onto his shoulder. I nodded my head in response, and brushed a bit of hair out of my mouth that had flown wild when the doors opened. A cool breeze swept across the sloping, green lawn in front of us, bending the grass over, and causing a rippling effect. As the Seventh Year students from Gryffindor and Slytherin came into view my stomach flipped several times over.

It's okay. I'll be okay. So will Draco. Looking up at Draco, I saw that his face, as well as my own, had taken on a hardened appearance. The steel that composed his eyes was flecked with charcoal, and those flecks became more noticeable the more determined he became. Right now, they stood prominently out.

"Harry isn't going to tell anyone, right?" I asked under my breath, gazing straight ahead. Draco didn't answer verbally, but he gave a slight nod.

"He's not? Please tell me he's not!" a hiss of panic escaped me. Draco's face remained unchanged, but his grip on my shoulders tightened.

"Don't worry," I heard him murmur. "If Potter speaks so much as one word, there'll be hell to pay. And don't think he doesn't know it."

Obviously Draco had sorted it with Harry. I think.

We were just several metres from Hagrid's cabin, and the students seemed to have just noticed us. It must have been odd for them. One day, Harry and I kissing during Transfiguration, ignoring all polite 'ahems' from Professor McGonagall, and the next day, Draco and I showing up late, entwined (well, not quite) in each other's arms as we came to Care of Magical Creatures.

I started to make my way up to the front of the group, to my usual position that I had formerly shared with Harry and Ron, but Draco held me back as we swung around and stood side by side at the rear of the crowd.

Of course. I can't go up there and stand beside Harry and Ron...not after what I did. Just, why do I have to stand by Parkinson, Crabbe, and Goyle? I didn't ask to be punished, but I suppose I get what I paid for...

A small smile found it's way to my lips, as I didn't even bother to decipher what that last thought meant. Almost everyone was looking back at us, curiosity and bewilderment dictating their expressions. I put on a forced, unnatural smile and let Hagrid's words wash over me; for one of the first times in my life, I wasn't paying attention.

Harry didn't look at me all class. As we left to go back to the castle, Ron shot me a sympathetic shrug and a weak grin. Clearly, Harry hadn't told him what had happened.

Draco pulled me closer as we retraced our steps. As we entered the Great Hal, he kissed me lightly and sat down at the Slytherin table, glaring as Pansy for whispering something to Blaise. Absorbed in my own thoughts, I shut out the noise and took a seat at the very end of the Gryffindor table. As Parvati and Lavender walked past, they broke into a fit of whispers.

What? Had I dribbled pumpkin juice down my shirt? Oh, no. I forgot. They saw Draco and me. How stupidly obvious.

"Her- Hermione?" asked a tentative voice, and looking up I saw Ron, his bright red hair partially visible from underneath his hat.

"Hmmm?"

"Look, Harry wouldn't say what happened, but I know something's up and --" he sat down, glancing at Harry as he did so "-- it's something big." My face set grimly as I prepared to tell him everything.

"Ron, hear me out. Who you believe, whoever's side you're on, I don't care right now. Just listen to me." Ron's gaze held steady, and I began my explanation.

"Okay, about a week ago, Harry and I had a huge fight. I don't even remember what happened. I stormed out of the common room, and as I was ranting and raving about the castle, I ran into Draco."

"Malfoy?" he asked, and I nodded, and Ron shook his head in disgust.

"You don't know this Ron, but once, Draco and I had a detention together." Ron looked at me as if I was mental (it seems to set the mood - you know, Hermione having detention with Draco, without Ron and Harry...). "We really hit it off. This was about, December, I think," I added, rubbing my forehead. "Anyway, ever since then, I've been on good terms with him. Not in public, mind you. Never around Harry either. It would be too risky. So, by the time I was mad at Harry, Draco and I were really good friends, verging on something more. I told Harry that he offered me a drink, and that's how this happened, but it's not true. It was me who kissed him first. It's entirely my fault."

Ron stared at me, a dumbfounded expression filling his face. Under the table, I was clenching my hands together so tight I was surprised they weren't bruised.

"What's entirely your fault?" he asked cautiously.

"This," I said, patting my stomach. "Ron, I'm pregnant with Draco's child."

Chapter III

My next class was Transfiguration. All this week was review, as N.E.W.T.s started the following Monday, and Professor McGonagall was determined that we should all get an "O". Unfortunately, I wasn't listening terribly well, and when Professor McGonagall asked me what the purpose of transfiguring words was, I nearly received a detention.

For the first time in my life, I felt anxious to get to Potions. When I arrived, I found that Draco had saved me a seat, and I leaned gratefully against him as the remainder of the class filed in. Professor Snape was late, but still no one spoke. I closed my eyes and listened to Draco's heartbeat, focusing on the positive: Ron was on my side. When I had told him how awful Harry had been, his position had changed, and he was determined to sort him out. That made some of my future a little brighter.

Our future, I reminded myself.

"So," Draco whispered in my ear, "have you decided?" I opened my eyes and found him looking down at me, his warm breath tickling my nose.

"Decided what?"

"Whether or not you're going to marry me."

"You never asked me," I replied coyly.

"Didn't I?" Draco said, his eyes filled with mock surprise. "Well, there's a first time for everything. Hermione Anne Granger-"

"How did you know that was my middle name?"

"Will you-"

"Miss Granger, will you please sit up? I've no time for idle chit chat, and I expect Mr. Malfoy doesn't either," boomed Snape as he strode into the dungeon, frightening everyone. I sat up straight and chanced a glance at Draco, whose face had become stony, an immense contrast to the smile he wore just seconds earlier.

"This afternoon, I will be testing you in partners. Your tablemate will suffice. One of you is to make a solution, of your choice, nothing lethal please, and the other is to brew the antidote. You will have two hours. I shall test them tomorrow." With that, Snape flung himself behind his desk, and began to sort through the mountain of paperwork on the surface.

"Seems rather agitated today, doesn't he?" I muttered as I began to set up vials of ingredients. Draco smiled.

"Well, he's letting us do whatever we like, it's a first," he added out of the corner of his mouth as he set up his cauldron. For some reason, a wave of ease had seeped across our table, and Draco and I were suddenly comfortable in each other's presence, even though we were in the company of others. There was no feeling of uptightness in order to conceal all feelings from Harry, unlike before.

We worked in silence on the incantation that the book happened to fall open to. Harry never even glanced my way, but all during class, he had a fierce look of hatred openly displayed on his face. Some conversation chased its way around the classroom, but for most of the time, the dungeons rang with silence.

~*~

After Potions, Draco and I reluctantly parted ways. I made my way to the Library, finding it the safest place to avoid Harry. I had taken up one table all by myself, Transfiguration, Charms, Astronomy, and Potions books spread out over it. Arithmancy would have to wait.

The properties of monkshood (odourless and tasteless) make it an excellent addition to any concoction that requires the least bit of mood or emotion change. Consequently, it can be found in all four hundred and eighty-three of the Potions on the following page. The main reason, however, that monkshood is not used regularly in such brews is that it is painfully obvious to the drinker, unless his or her sight is obscured. This problem, however, is only encountered when you are trying to achieve a result that the drinker is not aware of...

This book is gay...this book is pointless... you should go see Draco...he wants to see you...Little voices drifted through my thoughts, and I quit trying to absorb what was sliding through my vision. A muffled silence was floating through the room, as study groups reviewed with all possible force, trying to survive the tide of tests about to crush them in the next two weeks. As I was staring purposefully at the corner of a bookshelf, trying to make my eyes fall out of focus, a soft 'whoosh' caught my attention as a delicately assembled paper airplane swooped down, and after several fanciful twirls, it settled on the papers splayed out in front of me. The top of the airplane read "Hermione" in green ink.

Before opening the message, I glanced cautiously around. No one seemed to have noticed anything. Carefully, I unfolded the sheet of parchment and read the note.

Hermione-

Meet me in the corridor to the kitchen tonight at 6:30. If you are unable to attend, please send a message back with Dobby, the house-elf. He shall appear when you so command.

Your presence would mean a great deal to me. Please do attempt to appear tonight, for your absence would leave an ache too deep for me to fill. Dress your finest, for this night shall be one to remember.