Voldenatus

Hermione sat on the edge of the Infirmary bed, packing her Get Well cards and catch-up homework into a bag. She had spent a week recovering from her near-death experience, constantly fending off unknown and unwanted guests, as well as the occasional reporter who flew through the window in his desperation to get an exclusive scoop. But now she was feeling much better, and she had completed all the homework essays and extra study to maintain her place at the head of the year. She was ready to leave the Infirmary, and Harry would be arriving any moment to pick her up and go to breakfast.

Just as she was thinking of Harry, there was a loud knock at the Infirmary door. A minute later, Madam Pomfrey was leading Harry and Ron over to Hermione's bed.

"Hermione!" Ron and Harry called together. Harry got to her first, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his lips to hers. Ron skirted around the two, giving them a fair radius, and picked up Hermione's bag off the bed.

Harry released Hermione, now taking her hand and leading her to the door. "You'd better be careful, the Daily Prophet and WWN and all of the others have reporters camped out just outside there. It's been like that ever since you woke up! This first-year broke down sobbing the other day because they were trying to get him to tell them about you as he came out of here - I don't think you stand much of a chance!"

"Honestly, Harry," Hermione said, the characteristic bossiness back in her voice, "don't you learn anything?" Then she flashed Harry a mischievous smile, whipped out her wand and, waving it in a wide circle around their three heads, cast "Inconspicuous".

Harry snorted with laughter, then kissed Hermione's lips tenderly. "You're brilliant. What would I do without you?"

"Live a life of celibacy, fail Potions and be harassed by reporters wherever you go."

Harry grinned. Ron suddenly pushed between them, muttering something about "stupid ruddy lovey-dovey gooey idiots" and told them to get a move on.

The three of them opened the heavy doors and went through. Harry and Ron were expecting to be suddenly squashed by reporters, but nobody paid any attention to them. Hermione led them through the crowd, shoving people aside as they tried desperately to point their cameras and microphones at the door.

Harry couldn't resist. He nudged a reporter from Witch Weekly in the ribs, so hard that she had to notice.

"Hmm?" she answered distractedly.

"I was just wondering, who are you looking for?" Harry asked. Hermione had noticed his dalliance, and was trying to pull him away.

"Hermione… Granger…" she mumbled vaguely.

Harry winked at Hermione. He waited a few moments for the mischievous smile he loved so much to spread across her face…

"Then you might want to look over there."

Hermione stood just beyond the entrance to the hallway, Ron at her side. Harry skidded to a halt next to her. She brandished her wand, crying "Finite Incantatem".

The reporter who Harry had been talking to suddenly sprang to life. She started jumping up and down, gesticulating madly, shrieking, "There she is! There she IS!"

Hermione, Ron and Harry only had time to grin wickedly before they had to turn and run. Hermione's laughter echoed through the corridors ahead of them, while the reporters' yells and footsteps followed them. Hermione realised that she hadn't had this much fun in months; Harry realised how much he had missed Hermione's wild streak; Ron realised how much luggage Hermione had acquired during her month in a coma.

The three were stopped suddenly by a dark figure in the hall ahead of them. The icy voice of Severus Snape chilled their high spirits in an instant.

"A very amusing game, I'm sure," he spat, ignoring the clamour of the reporters, who were just rounding the corner and coming into view. "Now who is going to send those reporters away? You never stop causing trouble, Potter. You, your sidekick and your… whore can each take twenty points from Gryffindor house."

Hermione was too stunned at what Snape had called her to care about anything else. She felt the heat rising in her cheeks as Snape looked past them to the reporters, saying "These children are not free to make a statement. You have no further business here."

Hermione heard a dull ringing in her ears. She couldn't shut out what Snape had said. He called her a whore. She realised that Harry's arm was around her shoulders, and that he was talking to her.

"Come on, Herm, we need to go…" Harry's voice brought her attention back to the present. She realised that Snape had gone, and so had the reporters. "Hermione, we need to get down to the Hall for breakfast. Come on, now."

"But how did he know?" Hermione said, her voice panicky.

"Know what?" asked Ron.

Hermione shot Harry a questioning look. "It's safe for him to know," he replied to her unspoken question.

"Safe for me to know what?"

"Hermione is pregnant. I'm the father. It happened that night after Malfoy threatened her." Harry filled him in quickly. Ron quickly disguised his surprise. He knew this wasn't the time.

"Anyway," added Harry, "we really need to get to breakfast, or it'll be more than twenty points each."

Hermione nodded. She tried to tuck her feelings into a corner of her mind to deal with later, but she couldn't rid herself of them: they were like a lingering taste, bitter but distant. She allowed herself to be led away by Ron and Harry.

None of them noticed a figure step out of the shadows where they had been - a tall, thin figure with silvery-white hair.

* * *

Harry, Ron and Hermione had had a miserable breakfast. All around them, rumours had been whispered, and sidelong glances shot from over plates of bacon.

But they had survived breakfast. They were now making their way slowly to their Potions lesson. Admittedly, it wasn't the lesson Hermione would have preferred to have upon her return from a month-long infirmary visit, but it was a class nonetheless. And classes were what she did best.

Hermione took her usual seat next to Harry at the second-front bench. Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson sat down behind her. It struck her how quiet Malfoy had been recently - he didn't seem as chatty as he used to be. Now he seemed to satisfy himself with menacing stares across the classroom and through the throngs of the corridors. A chill crept down her spine as she recalled the offer he had made to her… she had almost forgotten…

Hermione began to absent-mindedly concoct her Sleep Draught. She wasn't concentrating on the recipe very hard, as she had begun to hear snatches of sniggering behind her back, and was attempting to find the cause of the Slytherins' amusement.

She wasn't thinking about the beetle-eyes she was pulverising when she caught snatches of Malfoy's dark voice and Pansy Parkinson's shrill squeals of laughter. Every now and then there was a discernible word or sentence: "Granger", "Mudblood", "Potter" and such. She distractedly poured her powdered beetle-eyes into her potion. Her attention snapped back to the draught when it turned a livid shade of magenta.

Snape noticed. He had been waiting for her to make a mistake ever since she first entered the classroom. He stalked over to her cauldron, a gleeful sneer playing across his face.

"Miss Granger, should you have added those beetle's eyes before taking the cauldron off the flame?"

"No, Professor," Hermione murmured quietly.

She heard Pansy Parkinson's unashamed trill behind her, "Ooh, look, Harry's whore has figured out how to say 'no'!"

"A bit late now, it seems," added Malfoy.

The Slytherins sniggered madly. Harry and Ron whipped around in surprise. Harry drew his wand and pointed it directly at Malfoy's face.

"Say that again, you filthy bastard."

"He doesn't need to. I think she heard it the first time." Pansy giggled shrilly.

Hermione, sobbing into her Gryffindor scarf, ran from the room. Hatred, anger, shame and despair were all assaulting her mind. It was more than she could cope with.

Snape watched her depart. Then he turned to Harry and Ron. "Sit down. Twenty points from Gryffindor for threatening Malfoy."

"But didn't you hear what he said to her?"

"Yes, I did, but I cannot punish that - it is Professor McGonagall's choice not to punish you and Hermione for your indecencies." Ignoring Ron and Harry's speechless protests, he turned to Malfoy. "Fetch the Granger girl. She has no excuse to walk out of class like that. Alert her that twenty points will be taken from Gryffindor for leaving the classroom without permission. I believe that adds to one hundred points lost from Gryffindor in the past two hours."

Malfoy shot Harry and Ron a smug look, then departed from the room.

* * *

Malfoy found Hermione sobbing behind a statue of a gargoyle on level four. As he approached, the gargoyle gave him a pleading look. He did not respond.

"Get up, Mudblood."

Hermione looked up at him. She tried her best to give him an insolent stare, but the effect was lessened somewhat by her puffy nose. She slowly stood up, hiccoughing occasionally, so that she could look at him eye-to-eye.

"Snape wants you back in class," he said in a clipped, businesslike tone.

Hermione made a move to push past him. Suddenly, a pain like a knife was plunged through her scull seared her head. She looked down, blinking away the red haze of pain, to see that Malfoy had gripped her wrist.

"I want you here."

Malfoy shoved her suddenly against the stone wall. The sudden agony that had erupted from her head had made Hermione weak. The world slid in and out of focus crazily, while her hearing was like a badly tuned radio. The pain was on the very edge of endurance.

"You and Harry… you think that's Harry's baby, don't you? It's not… I know…" Hermione faintly registered that Malfoy was gibbering hysterically. He pressed his body against hers to keep her against the wall. She screamed suddenly as the pain was pushed momentarily beyond endurance. Then his hand was clapped over her mouth.

"I love you… you love him… I love him… the only two people I have ever loved, and they stole each other away from me… you don't know how hard it's been… telling them I hate you, while all I wanted was to steal you away… and pretending to hate Harry… throwing punches just to touch him… how could you…"

Some of these statements filtered into Hermione's pain-riddled mind. But she couldn't comprehend their enormity - she felt like her head was about to split down the middle. Her eyesight was tinged red… or was that blood?… Malfoy's face was covered in scarlet streaks of blood…

"I love you… it was so hard to do it… but I was loyal… I was as good as dead, when you were gone… but you lived… and the child lived… and you didn't remember… I love you, I love you, I love you…"

Suddenly, Malfoy's lips were on Hermione's. Her body convulsed as the agony ripped through her. She couldn't take it… Malfoy's hands were in her robes, his touch burned her skin… every moment was pulsating torture… she couldn't go on…

"And I killed you! He raped you and I killed you!" Malfoy was hysterical. The words meant nothing to Hermione. She couldn't think anymore. The throbbing, burning pain had taken her over. The screams died in her throat. She let go of her will to live. She suddenly felt very light… she was flying… she saw her body, her face covered in blood, sliding to the ground… Malfoy, sobbing, screaming at her not to leave again … and she turned away, and the blackness engulfed her.