Harry Potter Lost

"Paul. Paul!" she called. Rapping her knuckles against the door again, she anxiously waited for someone to answer the door. "Please open the door."

Finally the door creaked opened to reveal a ruffled looking young man dressed only in boxers.

"Wha?" he asked through a yawn, his brown hair sticking out at different angles.

"I'm after Paul. Is he here?"

"No. He knocks off at five which is in about," he paused to glance back at the clock on the longue room wall, "an hour."

"Darn," she mumbled to herself. "Okay, thanks. Sorry for bothering you," she managed to get out as another wave of pain swept over her body. With determination she reached for the door frame and started to make her way down the hallway, an arm wrapped around her herself.

"Are you alright?" asked the young man as he stepped out of the apartment into the hallway.

"I'll be fine," she answered as the pain intensified. Pausing she gritted her teeth as she tried to control her breathing. She really needed to get to Paul. He had said that he would help her. All she needed to do was find him, which without magic was quite a task considering her current situation.

"You really don't look fine," he said coming around and placing a hand on her hunched shoulder. "Come inside and sit down. You're right to stay until he gets here," he offered.

She was torn. To wait for him to turn up, or to go and search for him? It seemed that the young man had made up her mind for her and was leading her back into the apartment. The accompanying painful spasm did nothing to change her mind.

'Not to worry,' she thought to herself. 'It will all be fine.' She was a young witch after all, able to take care of herself.

With a click the door shut behind the two figures.

ooOOoo

Gasping Hermione Granger woke from her sleep, the dream of a young man in boxers and another named Paul still vivid in her mind. With a shaky breath she drew her hands through her wild hair. It seemed so real. For all she knew it could be real. It probably was real.

Two days ago she had woken in the school infirmary dressed in a hospital issue gown and wrapped in crisp white bed sheets. At first it was fuzzy. Everything was fuzzy; her vision, the sounds around her, her sense of touch. Then it had cleared. Not unlike waking from a dream. The blurry figures became people…

ooOOoo

"Come on, Ron. We should leave. The prefects are making their rounds soon. Madam Pomfrey could come in any minute and we can't loose any more house points."

"I know. I just…" She heard someone take a shaky breath. "How did this happen?"

"Madam Pomfrey said she had a breakdown, that's why she is like this."

Her eyelids were so heavy. She could barely lift them. From her position she could just see the outline of someone sitting beside her. It was Ron.

She felt him squeeze her hand, which was strangely far from her body. It must be in his lap she realised.

"You know that is not what I meant."

Neither boy spoke for a long moment.

"Who could do this to her? _What_ could do this to her?"

Hermione closed her eyes as they grew weary, only feeling the soft stroking of Ron's hand.

"Hermione," spoke an urgent, yet far away voice. "Hermione are you awake?" The words seemed to echo through her head. A hand gently shook her shoulder, bringing her from the verge of sleep.

"Ron, what are you doing?"

"She squeezed my hand, just now. I'm positive of it. Come on, Hermione. We're right here."

She felt the bed dip a little as Harry sat on the other side, taking her hand in his.

She fought to assure them that she was awake but her body betrayed her.

"Hermione, please wake up," the red head pleaded, the frustration evident in his voice.

"Ron she's not awake."

"She is I tell you. She squeezed my hand."

"Ron…"

A weak whimper escaped her lips but neither boy heard as they argued. Finally they quietened.

"Ron," she tried to whisper, though it sounded very soft and foreign to her ears.

"Hermione? Hermione. Harry look she is awake," he exclaimed as she pried her eyes open.

"Hey 'Mione," said Harry as the two boys peered down over her.

ooOOoo

The next morning she found out that it wasn't February of 1996 but December. Just like that, ten months of her life was gone. And the thing was, she didn't remember a single thing. She had been having dreams, memories of her 'missing time' as people had come to call it.

In that time things had changed. For one she was now 18, she was in her seventh year, her grandmother's sister had passed away and Bill and Fleur had announced the expectance of their first child. Things had also happened at school. There was a new DADA teacher to start, Clarissa Manderson. The olive woman was really nice and had _the_ most adorable little bouncing baby girl. She lived with her partner Anthony. She went everywhere with her and was very popular with the girls. And Snape, Snape had a kid, which was a big shock. No one was sure if it was his kid or not but he still had a baby here at school. She had also aced her previous end of year tests, which was no biggie.

She had been in an academic nightmare. Instead of usual classes, she had been taking private tutorials with all of her teachers outside of class. Now she was really grateful that she had studied so far ahead. She had been told that by the end of this week she would back in classes, only needing additional tutorials to make sure she understood the materials she had read, which she was sure she did.

She had been told that she disappeared in February, at the start of the year, it was then her memory cut out. She never remembered being taken or willingly disappearing either. The last thing she could remember was walking through the grounds with Harry and Ron one afternoon, or at least she thought that was her last memory. It had become a little blurry as memories were prone to over time.

Breaking from reminiscent thoughts she pulled out her wand from under her pillow, wordlessly lighting it as she peered out from her hangings. There wasn't much in the room. The other girls' hangings were shut tightly as were the dressers giving the room a very geometrical feel. Quietly opening her bedside dresser, she pulled out a small book and pen, so much more convenient than parchment, quill and ink. Getting settled under her covers once again, she rested her back against her head rest. Knees bent and used as a desk, wand in her lap and pen in her hand she began.

Writing the date of the day before, seeing as it was well into the morning now, she pondered how to describe her dream, vision, memory, whatever you would like to call it. Starting from the beginning she began to write.

_I was in an apartment complex…_

ooOOoo

"I'm sure there is a jumper in here somewhere," Hermione mumbled to herself as she set about pulling apart her carefully packed trunk. It was currently half full and magically enhanced. All her other belongings had been taken out for various needs, and her robes and uniforms were all hung in her closet.

Towards the bottom she found a lovely jacket. It was thigh length and made of thick black fleece. It had big round buttons. She never remembered seeing it before and assumed she must have gotten it during her 'missing time.' Unfolding it she stood up and popped it on over the Weasley jumper she was already wearing and her jeans. Satisfyingly warmer she sat down again and continued to go through her trunk despite finding an addition jacket, which she was originally after.

She pulled out another two jumpers, old ones she had had for quite a while. There was another pair of casual shoes along with a small collection of books. First there was a collection of books she had been given by her friend back home to read when she had spare time at boarding school. They were all published by _Focus On The Family_, Christian books. They were always great for a read. In a way it was good seeing as she was halfway through the year and had no memory of reading any of these. Usually she would have finished them all by now. Putting those aside she continued her search.

The rest were her usual reference books she brought with her, along with a few new volumes she must have purchased while she was on holidays. At the very bottom were a collection of gifts. She had always shopped early. There were the usual for her friends, her family. What baffled her were several gifts for people she did not know, or at least remember. There was one for a Paul. Was that the same Paul she had dreamed of not a week ago? Who apparently lived with another man who wore only boxers? There was also a Sara who she did not know, though the name seemed remarkably familiar. Lastly was a plain black package which, from the feel of it, appeared to be a book, a rather thick book at that. Around it was tied a plain black bow.

Baffled as to the gift, she removed it, turning it over in her hands. When she looked back to the trunk to where it had been, she noticed that under it was a hard cover book, powder blue in colour. Placing down the unknown gift, she instead took out the book. The cover and spine were unmarked, but the spine long since been broken. Inside the front cover were several sheets, all in her writing. They were all notes from the book. She had listed symptoms, causes and treatments, all related to…_pregnancy_?

Removing the papers and placing them instead in her lap she turned to the title of the book; _What to Expect When You Are Expecting_. Surely she wasn't…she couldn't…no…no…no way in the world! Actually,… she had been unconscious for a rather long stretch of time therefore she could actually be…well…um… _you know_. Gosh, she couldn't even think it. She could be…she could be…_that_. She had no idea how she could be…_that_…seeing as she had never, in her recollection, done…_the other that_.

Well…seeing as she had the book. Skimming the contents she flipped to the appropriate page; _The First Step: Are You Expecting?_. With a deep breath she reached for her wand practicing the wand movements and saying the spell a few times over.

Pointing the wand to her abdomen…she paused. What if she was…_that_? What would she do? She couldn't finish school. Any student with child, be it in or out of the womb, was to be expelled as said in _Hogwarts; A History_. How would the child be raised? There was no question as to whether she would keep the child. After two weeks in the womb, any infant creates a magical connection between mother and child, and termination of one leads to termination of the other, but the raising of the child? What sort of life would they lead? It was not like she had a lot of money or anything! She was a teen mum!

'Whoa Lassie!' she chided herself. 'Just see if you are actually…_that_…, first.'

Resolvedly picking up her wand, which during her pondering had ended up on the floor, she pointed it at her abdomen again. A clearly spoken spell and a pale yellow light shot into her stomach. Moments later a small white light erupted. She wasn't. Thank goodness.

With a sigh of relief she placed the papers and book with the rest of her 'to read' pile. After a moment she also kept out the black wrapped book before putting the rest away. The presents, then the books, followed by her shoes, her clothes, all neatly packed away.

Dusting off her clothes she walked around to her dresser.

'Best keep you safe,' she though as she held the black wrapped book. 'Somewhere safe where no one will find you.'

With a small grin she checked there was no one in the dormitory before pulling out the bottom draw of her bedside table. She wouldn't have expected there to be anything in the hidie hole but there was, several things in fact.

"Hermione," called a voice from down the stairwell, causing her to jump. "What's taking you so long? Hurry up!"

"Just a minute, Ron," she called back as she stuffed the book alongside the other objects. They would need looking at when she got a spare moment. The rest of the books went on the top of the table and the book on…that…in the middle draw behind her brassieres.

Hastily shutting the draw she checked she had her wand and there was nothing left out before she headed off to go do, whatever it was that the boys wanted to do. She couldn't quite remember. Harry had said something about a stroll, or perhaps a troll?

ooOOoo

Sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room that evening, Hermione flicked through her old homework planner. She was trying to find anything out of the ordinary that might help jog her memory.

There wasn't much. It was a 'homework' diary after all. She had never been inclined to write unnecessary dribble alongside her homework and extra study texts. There had however been a few, odd, things written. There were references to certain books in the library that she normally wouldn't have booked out. They had nothing to do with her schooling. For instance a book called; _Mastering the Mind By Lucinda Gresham_. There were also references to Medi-Wizardry texts, anti-nausea potions, mild pain relief potions, anti-swelling spells and at the start of this schooling year; potions for sever pain relieve, healing potions, healing spells, even a few suspension spells for patients in critical conditions.

This was starting to freak her out a bit. Who wouldn't be? This was heavy stuff. Why on earth was she researching Medi-Wizardry she wouldn't even touch?

Though, now that she about it…with the three of them always going off on some dangerous adventure it really was a smart thing to do. Something must have happened when she disappeared in February, something to make her want to ensure that she was prepared for any scrape. That must be it. If only she could remember what had happened.

ooOOoo

Using the night to her advantage she had gathered all of the objects from the bottom of her dresser and laid them out before her on her bed.

There was the black wrapped book which she remembered placing in there yesterday the other items she did not know.

There was a white velvet case inside which was a white hard covered book. Its spine was round and it looked well used but did not show signs of wear. She had clearly treasured this book. The front had a silver metal, diamond shaped crest. In the middle of it was the name 'Sara Pauline'. There was a lock. No ordinary lock. It was the shape of two small hearts, each about the size of a Knut.

Questions raced through her head. Who was Sara Pauline? Why did she have her book? What was in the book? If she had the book, where was the key? Where did the key go? It had no opened under any of her spells which meant there probably was no way to open the book without the key.

With a sigh she put the book aside and picked up a small wooden box the size of a small jewellery box. There was nothing special about it, just a plain wooden box. Inside however was a different story. There were a total of 40 potion vials in the box, four rows of ten. Each of them were tiny but she realised when she removed one that they were in fact the true size of a dosage but the box was internally enlarged, similar, but not the same as her trunk, everything seemed smaller inside from the outside.

She could only name a few of the potions. There was a healing balm, a vial of eucalyptus oil, clearly an ingredient, anti-nausea and a derivative of pep-up potion by the looks. The rest she didn't know.

'Yet another mystery as to what I was doing,' she thought.

Lastly there was a strange contraption with several test tubes. There was what looked like a too small breathing mask, or something, a main section and attached to it a large, glass, screw top, test tube. Pressing the little button the side, it started to operate, the little mask acting like a vacuum.

'Well that was interesting,' she thought, pressing the button again. 'Wonder what it is?' With a mental shrug she gathered up all of the items and deposited them back into the compartment under her dresser.

It really was getting late and she had an hour study session with McGonagall before classes started tomorrow. With a yawn she pulled her hangings back and whispered a quite "Nox".

ooOOoo

It was well after curfew as she crept along an empty corridor. She darted through the moonlight streaming in the tall windows. She was very wary of any approaching people or animals. Her ears were tuned to the slightest sound, her eyes sharp.

It seemed like ages had passed as she slipped through yet another secret passage. Finally she stepped out of a broom cupboard with a fake back wall into a corridor on the fourth floor. Checking once, then twice for any creatures she darted across to a lesser used corridor. Through the shadows she travelled past the classrooms but did not stop. She continued further. Ahead was a statue of one of the first Alchemists.

She was tempted to simply walk up to it but instead backtracked a little and slipped down a secret passage which finished a little after the statue. From her new position she drew her wand casting several revealing charms. None of them picked up any traces of an alarm or warning signal. Tucking her wand away she suspiciously looked at the statue and surrounding area before she removed a small crystal pyramid, deep purple-blue in colour, from another pocket and placed in the palm of her hand. Cupping her other hand over it she whispered a few activation charms then removed her hand. A small purple light shine upwards from the top. After a moment it twisted into symbols and numbers that circled around the crystal. There were three different alarms all interlaced. Take off one and they all go off.

She had told him not to. This was not for their benefit. He needed it and she had it.

With a sigh she deactivated the crystal and pocketed it before heading back around the trap. She stopped some distance away under a wall bracketed torch.

Removing a small black wrapped package filled with five glass vials she slipped them behind the torch and placed a 'notice-me-not charm on them. Satisfied they were secure she conjured up a small silver bird the size of a sparrow. A whispered message and it was off towards the statue. As soon as it came within two feet it would set off the alarm, freezing in time and space. When he turned up he would get the message and the location of the vials.

Checking once again for anyone out and about, she headed back to her dormitory.

ooOOoo

When Hermione woke the next morning she pulled out her diary and began to write of a memory involving black wrapped vials and a silver sparrow.

ooOOoo

"Miss Granger," said Professor McGonagall as she approached the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.

"Yes, Professor," she answered placing down her fork.

"Here is a copy of your time table. All of your teachers have agreed that you are sufficiently caught-up to go back into main stream classes." A smile spread across Hermione's face at the news. "You will be expected to attend after school and before school tutorials to ensure that you do not lag behind on anything you have recently learnt."

Hermione looked at her time table and noticed the additional lessons outside normal hours.

"Thank-you very much, Professor," she said looking back up at the old witch.

"You're quite welcome. Good-day, Miss Granger," she finished. Professor McGonagall turned and left as Hermione turned calmly to study her time table over her porridge.

"You're coming back to classes?" asked Harry excitedly.

"Yep," she replied.

"That's great!" exclaimed Ron.

Hermione gave him smile before looking back at her timetable.

"Are you not happy, Hermione?" asked Harry, wondering what the problem was.

"I am happy to be going back to classes," she replied calmly and seemingly offhandedly. "There's just no point jumping up and down like a lunatic." Inside she _was_ secretly jumping up and down screaming "Yee HA!" like a lunatic, but was reining in her outward emotions.

With a smile she said good-bye to the boys and headed off to Arithmacy.

ooOOoo

Despite how her mind wanted to wander to the objects in the dresser beside her bed, Hermione kept strict control of it. She had taken out the book; _Mastering the Mind_ the day before and had already skimmed through the book. It gave a self teach method to Occlumency which she was keen to try. At night she planned to test her mind, reinforcing it then breaking it down, all to try and open her subconscious and allow her memories to become whole once again.

It came surprisingly easily though, despite her Gryffindor tendencies, which was a bit of a scary thought. She had not panicked when she couldn't find her Transfiguration text book nor had she jumped up and down in joy at breakfast. What if she had done this before? Was she trying to access lost memories? Or was she guarding something? Something important. Hiding it. What did she have to hide? What had she hid?

ooOOoo

Hermione closed her eyes as Ron's lips descended on her own. They were slightly rough against her own, chapped from Quidditch and not wearing any balm. It was a light, gentle kiss. No urgency whatsoever despite their current position. Hermione was backed up against the wall of a broom closet with Ron in front of her. His next kiss had a little more pressure but no urgency, just leisurely kisses that were making her feel warm all over.

Her hand stroked him from arm to shoulder the other resting on his shoulder as they tilted their heads.

Soon she lost awareness of the outside world. All that existed was the two of them, his lips brushing along hers. If felt so nice, like a little piece of heaven. One of his hands drifted from her shoulder to her hip, holding her steady and securely.

Soon their kisses grew longer, his tongue lightly brushing along her lips, encouraging her to part them. She was lost, not knowing these wonderful feelings. Ron was such a good kisser, not pushing her at all.

The next thing she knew his tongue was in her mouth, something he had never done before and she panicked. Her hands tightened on his shoulders as she tried frantically to push him away. Quickly he released her and made to move away but he wasn't moving fast enough. Adrenalin flooded her veins as visions filled her mind. Billowing black cloaks, fear, pain, blood, grass, vomit, cackles of laughter…

"Get off, get off, get off," she panicked shoving him away sharply so that he stumbled in shock and collided noisily with a mop in the other corner.

Wrapping her arms around herself she drew in great heaving breaths. She felt so cold, all warm feelings had left her body and she was now a shaking mess.

"Oh My," she whispered, drawing a hand through her mussed up hair, her eyes staring at the ground before her.

"Hermione?" queried Ron. "What's wrong? I didn't mean to do anything to hurt you. Was I going to fast?"

She just shook her head. "You were fine Ron, I just…I…I panicked. I'm sorry," she said, looking up to him as he stood, rubbing her arms unconsciously to get rid of the cold and dread that filled her. "I mean, I not use to any of this," she said, making excuses. "It's all a bit fast."

"No it's okay. I suppose I understand where you're coming from. It's just…It's fine. We'll go as slow as you want, kay?" Gently he placed his hand on her shoulder. "I'll go as slow as you need. We'll do exactly what you want."

"Sure," she told him, not meeting his eyes as they stepped out of the small broom closet.

ooOOoo

A short time after, Hermione was curled up on a plush chair in the Gryffindor Common Room with a cup of tea, laced with a calming potion, Crookshanks on her lap. Harry and Ron sat on the sofa beside her, discussing the issue in hushed voices.

Closing her eyes she let the warmth from her tea and the warmth from Crookshanks flooded her. She didn't know what happened. Well she did know she panicked. Feelings flooded her, pain, anxiety, humiliation, and above all fear. Closing her eyes she rested, feeling too exhausted to go up to her dormitory. She still had another two days before the weekend. How was she going to survive her first week back at this rate?

ooOOoo

She was scared. Very scared. Terrified. She was cold, as was the hard ground under her and the rough wall behind her. She couldn't move. She was too scared. Pulling at the scraps of what were left of her robes around her with shaky hands she shivered uncontrollably.

She could hear footsteps against the stone ground. Instinctively she curled up tighter as tears flowed down her face. She didn't want them to do it again. She hurt so much. No not again. They hurt her so much. The insane laughter still echoed in her ears.

"What did Diane say the caller said?"

"There was an injured young lady down the alley way."

"Right. Can you see anything down here?"

"Just a lot of boxes."

"Probably just another prank."

"We still have to follow it up."

"Yeah I know. There doesn't seem to be anyone down here."

"It's filthy."

"I can't see anything mu…Oye down here!"

Hermione flinched away as the light came down on her shaking form.

"You best go," said another as the additional light came down on her.

"Here hold this," said the female with long black hair handing a bag to the man as she began to pull away a couple of cardboard boxes to get to her.

"How old?"

"Mid-twenties by the looks."

"Please don't. Please. Please," she pleaded in a whisper as the black haired woman came closer.

"Hey, what's your name?" she asked.

"Don't. Not again, please, please," she pleaded as she waited for the pain to begin, praying that it wouldn't.

Unperturbed the paramedic reached out a hand and placed it on her shoulder. The girl whimpered pulling away. The paramedic nearly overbalanced and fell but managed to catch herself. The space really was too small for her to get in.

"Keep your cool, Heidi," said the male paramedic as he moved away a little.

Moving forward again she attempted to move the young woman's mattered dirty hair out of her face.

"Don't hurt me. Please don't. Stop her, please stop her," she pleaded to the figure standing back holding the torch. "Don't let her hurt me." But still she inched closer. "No! Get away!" she shrieked shuffling back as far and as fast as she could manage.

The dark haired woman moved stopped.

"Let me," the other paramedic said softly to his confused partner. The woman nodded and inched back from under the boxes into the open where she could stand."It's okay, she won't hurt you." He looked into the girl's wide brown eyes. Passing his partner the two medical bags he knelt down to the young woman. "It's okay. Just stay calm. I won't hurt you. We're here to help."

Hermione still not sure inched backwards a little, away from the paramedic.

"No it's okay, just stay there," he encouraged kneeling down beside her. "I just need to take your pulse okay?" He waited for an answer but she gave him none. "You're going to feel my fingers on your neck. It's okay." Slowly he reached forward with one gloved hand and moved her hair away from her face. Her face was covered with bruises and cuts. There was a large black bruise around her eye. Managing a convincing smile he pressed two fingers to her jugular artery, timing it for 15seconds against his watch. "It's a little weak. 120 bpm," he told his partner. The woman scribbled the data down onto a clipboard she held. "Can you tell me where it hurts?"

She hurt all over. The torture curse still ringing through her muscles. They had burnt her and cut her and things she couldn't even describe.

Pulling out a pen light he shone it into her eye and out again. He said something to his partner before turning back to her. "Does she appear to be inebriated?" asked the woman.

"Can't tell, there's too much muck down here," he replied. "What's your name?" he asked. "Hhhm? You can tell me."

"Her…mione," she croaked out of her sore throat.

"That's a nice name. Do you know where you are?"

"I…I…." But she couldn't finish her sentence as she began to panic. Where was she? How had she gotten here? There was field. An open field and there were the boxes and the wall behind her. It didn't make sense. Where was she?

"It's okay, just stay calm. Nice _slow_ breaths," he encouraged her. "Why don't you come out and I will see what is wrong, okay?"

She didn't move but she was hurting. "I can't," she whispered.

"Why can't you come out?" he asked.

"It hurts," she answered croakily.

"I'll help you get up, okay?" he offered. She gave a tiny nod. "Alright, just let me move some of these things out of the way so we can get to you."

Standing up he started to move boxes and crates out of the way so Heidi could wheel the gurney in. Finally it was in and he stepped forward to lift her up.

When Heidi came around and moved to help him Hermione froze.

"No," she said hoarsely, pulling away.

"It's okay, she just going to help. She's not going to hurt you," encouraged the male paramedic.

"No don't. Please, I'll do anything. Don't hurt me, please, please," she begged as she tried to get away from the raven haired woman. She was neither here nor there. One moment the area was open, a field with a forest, the next it was an alley way. Everything was shades of grey, lit by the moonlight and a flickering bon fire.

"She won't hurt you. It's okay," he assured her as he knelt down in front of her as Heidi moved behind her.

"Just stay calm," she tried to assure.

"No, NO!" she screamed. She arched forward to get away but was caught by the other paramedic.

"Step back," he told his partner. "Hermione it's okay. She's going away. Stay calm, nice slow breaths. That's it."

When she had calmed he lifted her up and on to the bed easily. "I think it would be best if you leave her to me. I can handle her myself," he assured his partner as they began to wheel her to the ambulance, the two medical packs on the end of the bed.

"Sure," Heidi answered.

Soon they were in the vehicle and the young man began to hook her up to machines to monitor her.

Heidi took the wheel and they were off.

"So Hermione," he said conversationally as he started an IV, "how old are you?"

Everything was so bright in the van. The lights were too bright, forcing her to turn away, shutting her eyes tightly. It was blurry and the young man became two then three and then two and then three and then one. Oh, her head was spinning. All she wanted to do was close her eyes and sleep. The paramedic was asking questions but she couldn't make them out.

Suddenly he stood, making her head spin, and reached for a phone. A few moments later he hung up and added something to her IV. The world slowly stopped spinning and her head stopped pounding.

Then van had stopped and they weren't moving. The brown haired man simply sat there taking readings and looking over her vitals. Every so often she would hear the blast of a car horn.

The pain in her side was really bad. It felt like the knife was still there. She knew she would live. They had said as much but left her to the 'muggle elements'.

"Hermione. Hermione," said the young man dragging her out of her thoughts. Finally her eyes cooperated and met with his. "Hey," he said kindly, she just looked at him. "You have to tell me, are you still hurting?" She nodded as her hand went to her abdomen. He didn't notice.

The pain relief they had given her before was only mild. Reaching forward he flashed his penlight in her eyes again, blinding her. When her eyes adjusted she was no longer staring at the paramedic but instead the canopy of her bed at Hogwarts.

ooOOoo

"Hi, Professor Manderson," Hermione greeted as she stepped into her teacher's small apartment. Professor Manderson was currently standing in the middle of the room holding her little girl Sarah. Anthony closed the door behind Hermione as she placed her book bag beside the door. Both man and woman were well dressed in evening attire.

Miss Manderson had asked the previous week if Hermione could look after her little girl while the couple went out for dinner for their anniversary. Apparently over the last couple of months Hermione had been regularly babysitting the little one and both parents were quite comfortable with the arrangement. It seemed for some reason she had gotten in their good books somehow, but neither had said anything. They had been putting off asking her to baby-sit Sarah until she had recovered from her ordeal, which by now she apparently had.

"You'll be right with everything Hermione?" Professor Manderson asked as she handed over the squirming bundle.

"Certainly, I remember babysitting my cousins well and I'm sure everything about little Sarah here will be coming back in no time."

"Alright, she's had her bath and her dinner and bed is no later than 6:30, okay?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Call me Clarissa while you are here."

Mr Manderson smiled at the young witch before taking his wife by the shoulders. "Come now love, we have to leave before they give away our reservation." Clarissa smiled back giving her husband a peck on the cheek.

"Alright." Turning to Hermione she added, "The contact mirror is above the fireplace if you need anything, don't hesitate to mirror me if anything happens."

"Everything will be fine," Hermione assured her as she kissed the little one goodbye.

"Thank-you, Miss Granger," added Mr Manderson before he escorted his wife out the door leaving the two of them.

Hermione smiled when they were finally gone and looked at little Sarah.

"Sarah," she said, "your name does sound very familiar, as if I've heard it before." She started towards the sofa where several toys were left behind. "Then again I have been sitting you for several months so it probably does ring a bell."

Sarah sucked her fist as she looked up at her Hermione, her eyes wide. Hermione made a funny face which caused her to giggle and wave her hands about, trying to grab at Hermione's face. As she jumped a small heart shaped pendant on her day suit sparkled in the light.

All in all the evening went well. Sarah was deep asleep by the time her parents got home and Hermione left with a smile on her face and her pockets a little heavier.

ooOOoo

Flipping through the potion in her text book again Hermione reviewed the instructions. They were simple enough. They were brewing a liquid net. With a few drops and skilled hands, thin nets for catching pixies could be created. Just rub some between two fingers and pull it apart. Hey presto, a pixie catching net.

Aligning her ladles and ingredients Hermione checked over her workplace as her cauldron simmered gently. It would take a few more minutes. There really was no point watching it very closely, but she continued to keep a close eye on it.

All of a sudden a voice shouted over the class. "Get Down!" Without hesitation she ducked down covering herself with her robes. Some of the other girls screamed as the ducked for cover. From the corner of her eye she saw as Professor Snape snapped a containment bubble over a splattering cauldron and whirled the student to the ground, his robes covering the both of them. A second later there was a deafening sound as the cauldron exploded but remained contained within the magical sphere. She herself jumped at the bang even though she had been expecting it. More of the other students screamed.

When she looked up again the Professor was examining the face of the student the cauldron had belonged to, Pansy Parkinson. She was clearly unconscious and turning a nasty shade of shimmering green. Placing her on the ground he conjured a stretcher under her and began levitating her out of the room.

"Suspension Charms on all of your work. Do not touch anything until I get back. Prefects are in charge," he bit out before the disappeared out the door at a run with the stretcher.

It all happened in a few seconds. From a quite potions class to a potentially life threatening situation, all in a matter of moments. Slowly Hermione crept out from under her desk and performed her own Suspension Charms on her cauldron. Looking around she watched as all the other students crept out doing as they were told. Things happened that suddenly in Advanced Potions.

She had no idea what had happened but Pansy had made one major mistake which might cost her her life. Shakily she sat down. The fear was setting in now she realised as her hands began to shake. Placing them in her lap she took a few deep breaths.

Realising she was a Prefect she stood from her seat and began to assess the damage.

"Hannah," she said to the shaken girl as she tried to cast a Suspension charm. "Let me." A wave of her wand and the cauldron was caught in time. Soon a quite mutter broke out among the students. Another Prefect, a Ravenclaw, was also walking around helping his fellow classmates.

Several of the girls were in tears, sobbing on one another in shock. They needed a little time or a calming draught which she didn't have so she decided to take her seat again.

Another sound soon filled the air, cries of distress. Looking towards the front of the room she watched as Snape's baby began to cry. She was dressed in a soft white baby suit and sat in a capsule of sorts on his desk. From what Hermione had seen, everywhere Snape went, she went. She went on rounds, she went to the Great Hall when he decided to turn up and she was always in class.

At the moment she was crying with all her might. Her face was turning red and her little hands were fisted. Her relatively soft cries quickly grew until they were all out screams.

Looking towards everyone else she noticed them looking at one another, none willing to do anything. As far as she knew, no one had ever held the baby other than Professor Snape, he always appeared very possessive of her. Hermione bit her lip waiting for someone to go and try to calm the child but still no one moved and the child was growing very restless.

'Will someone please do something,' she though frantically. At least one of the Slytherins could do something, anything. Still no one moved from their seat towards the front dais.

With a slight sigh she tapped her robes and cast a silent cleaning charm on herself and mentally sealed herself. Standing from her seat she moved around the desk, pointedly ignoring the rest of the class.

"Hermione," hissed Ron. She turned and sent him a quizzical look. "What are you doing?" he asked. Rolling her eyes she ignored him and moved towards the Potions Master's desk. She could feel the whole class's eyes on her back but refused to acknowledge them. Stepping up she stood before the cradle and dragged it a little closer to the edge of the desk.

"Heeey," she said softy, rocking the cradle in an attempt to calm her as she had seen the Professor do several times. The little girl continued to cry however. It was long past the point where a little acknowledgment would clam her. "Sssshhh. It's okay," she assured her rubbing her belly to no avail. After a few minutes she undid the restrains holding the child and lifted the little girl up.

First she checked her nappy then offered her the warm bottle sitting beside her cradle was but she wasn't hungry. Then she burped her and jiggled her.

"Come on its okay," she assured the baby, but still she cried. She was becoming desperate. Nothing was working and everyone was watching her. At least one of them could have offered a word of advice! They all sat around doing their own thing or watching her struggle. It was then she realised she didn't even know the baby's name, not that it mattered one iota in the current situation.

Gently she placed the little girl on her robes, murmuring to her. She sat in the middle of her chest, one hand supporting her head and one her bottom. She was partially wrapped in a snuggle blanket, fleece with a satin trim. The blanket wasn't wrapped tight, it was tucked around her body but the ends draped down.

Rocking gently side to side she started humming a lullaby her mother had taught her. Quite quickly she calmed, her cries disappearing. Her eyes slowly closed, a little fist caught in her mouth. Before she knew it she was asleep.

For a while she stood there, enthralled by the little baby. She was so tiny. Standing here with her just felt so right and calmed her, a peace that everything was right. The class had become quite silent at some stage. Perhaps that was why she felt like this? Turning around and away from the black board she looked towards the class.

All of them were sitting very still, their eyes either on her or to her left. Looking towards their other focus point in the room she saw a furious Professor. The smile of contentment fell from her face like water poured from a jug. She looked from the Professor to the baby and back again.

'Shoot.'

What on earth was she thinking? Snape's baby?! She was so dead.

"Professor…I…she was crying and I…um," she stuttered quietly as he moved slowly towards her, like a predator stalking its prey just before it pounced. "I'm sorry I didn't mean, well I did, it was just that…" Hermione was cut off as he stopped bare centimetres from her. She swallowed dryly. Before she knew it his eyes broke their piercing contact with her own and looked down to the child sleeping in her arms. Reaching forward he gently pried her away from his student without waking her, holding her protectively against his chest. Turning back to the class he spoke.

"Madam Pomfrey would like to see you all to test you for any contamination and a debriefing as soon as possible," he quietly addressed the silent class. "Class dismissed, leave your potions where they are." With relief Hermione walked away to her seat as everyone began hastily packing up, sure he would blow his top any moment. Just as she thought she was in the clear he added, "Miss Granger stay behind."

Dread filled her as she slowly packed away the rest of her belongings. Looking up Ron sent her a sad smile before practically running out of the room, supposedly towards the infirmary. Soon the classroom was empty leaving only her and the Professor.

"What did you think you were doing?" he hissed at her. The child had gone back to her cradle and the Professor was now looming over her desk making her feel two inches tall.

"I…um…she was crying and, well, I couldn't very well leave her, so…um…I tried to make her stop and then she fell asleep," she finished lamely.

"_Nothing_ gave you permission to," he seethed. "Be at the Hospital Wing eight o'clock tonight for detention with Poppy." Turning on his heel he strode to his desk and began writing out a slip.

Picking up her bag she quickly walked out of the classroom at the silent dismissal.

Her?…detention! She never got detention. Bloody Hell he was a possessive old bat. One would think that he might be at least be grateful that she had shut the darn baby up, but _nnoooo_ he had to go and give her detention. Grouchy old man.

She stopped her rant mid way through. 'No,' she thought to herself. She would not rant and rave, she would be calm and collected. 'Cool, calm and collected.'

ooOOoo

Crawling into bed, still dressed in her uniform, Hermione gave into sleep. Her detention had been scrubbing the floors of the Infirmary by hand. She was so sore. Her back ached, her hands ached, her arms, her legs, everywhere ached. She wasn't sure she would ever feel the same.

ooOOoo

She was racing through the halls, away from her predator. He was catching her. She knew it. She let out a scream as a hand grabbed her shoulder, the fingers slipping off as she forcefully pulled away. Turning another corner she ended up in the Potions Classroom, even though the Potions classroom was no where near where she had been running.

She was on the front dais again holding the small child, once again. She kept crying over and over.

"It's okay," Hermione practically cried to the child as she rocked from one foot to another. She was so tired. She just wanted to sleep. "Ssshhhhhh…come on." Again she began to hum and soon the screaming child quietened a little. "That's it," she encouraged her.

Closing then opening her eyes wide she tried to keep them open and focused. She was no longer in the class room but instead a small room with a few pieces of furniture. She turned to put the tiny baby in a small worn bassinet. The wicker around the sides was well worn, the white paint having nearly completely come off. The inside had recently been relined. The little girl was wrapped in a white crocheted blanket and was sleeping peacefully against the teen.

Shifting her hand as she made to put the baby in its bed but she began to stir in her sleeping in protest. Quickly she held the child close again. A rather large yawn escaped her as she sat back at the small table, the child clutching her soft robe. Taking up her quill she sleepily scratched out something onto the scroll before adding a concluding sentence and crawling onto the small single bed in the corner, baby still clutched to her chest.

ooOOoo

The next morning when she awoke, Hermione briefly pondered the strange dream she had experienced before crawling out of bed in search of the lavatory. That morning no entry was added to her diary.

ooOOoo

Over the next week she experienced many snippets of her 'missing time', each as confusing as the previous.

ooOOoo

Walking into the Great Hall with Ron and Harry, the trio took their seats at the end of the Gryffindor table, it was nearing Easter. The mounds of eggs, bacon, toast and other greasy foods stared up at her making her feeling queasy. Swallowing the rising bile she reached for a few dry biscuits before making excuses about the library and diving out of the Great Hall. As soon as she was alone she pulled out a small vial and swallowed the contents. Immediately the nausea threatening to take over her abated. With a relieved sigh she pulled out a biscuit and began nibbling on it as she walked down the hall.

ooOOoo

Sitting on her bed at home she doubled checked the door was shut before removing her Ancient Ruins kit from her school trunk and laying it on her bed before her. She picked out the necessary brush and uncapped some henna. Dipping her brush she brought it up to her skin, her hand steady as she drew the ruins on her skin. One design went on each of her hip bones followed by one directly between two. Next she brought the brush to her chest. Two small designs were drawn either side of the bottom of her sternum followed by two more on each side moving around the bottom of her rib cage. One on each of her ankles and the insides of her wrists and she was complete. Packing away her brush and ink she stood before her floor length mirror. It showed nothing. The glamour would hold for at least the next two months before she would have to reapply it.

ooOOoo

Hermione waited outside the Transfiguration classroom for Professor McGonagall to arrive so that she could go in and take her seat. She looked up from her book to see Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Snape walk past. Quickly she ducked her head down again.

"I tell you someone has been stealing from my private stores," insisted the Potions Master as he stalked along beside the overly bright Headmaster.

"Well let me assure you, Severus, I have no idea who it could be, but I assure you that they most probably have very good grounds," he reasoned.

"Albus, you have finally gone senile!" he practically shouted. "No student would be using cactus flower dew in anything other than love potions! Someone must know something."

"Miss Granger," said the Headmaster, stopping before her. Quickly she pushed all of her secrets under her Occlumency shields she looked up at him from her book which she was pretending to be completely immersed in.

"Good Morning, Sir, Sirs," she greeted, smiling at him as though she suddenly realised he was there.

"Tell me, Miss Granger, are you someone?"

"Umm, yes, Headmaster, I am someone," she answered uncertainty in her voice. She knew exactly where this was heading but showed no indication that she had overheard their conversation.

"Well then, as someone, do you know something about the Potions Masters stolen cactus flower dew?"

"No, Headmaster," she answered, her eyes carefully avoiding the seething Potions Master.

"Thank-you, Miss Granger," he told her, his eyes twinkling. "You see, Severus," his hand gesturing towards the seventh year student. "Someone clearly doesn't know something about your missing ingredients."

"Completely senile," said the exasperated Potions Master to no one in particular as he stalked off in the direction he had come from.

"Good-Day," said the bearded wizard continuing his stroll down the hallway.

"Good-Day, Sir."

Well actually she did know something about the missing ingredients, a lot actually. The missing vial was currently in the second floor bathroom with the rest of her potions ingredients she needed for one of the three potions she currently had on the burner, literally. She had taken a great lot of care to slip into the private stores of the schools Potions teacher so she wasn't about to give anything up.

ooOOoo

Walking around the Hogsmeade book stall, she looked at the many rows of books she loved to browse. Today she was looking for something special. She sorted through the piles of empty journals. After several minutes she found the one she was after. It had a velvet case with a tie top. The book itself was white with an elegant diamond shaped plaque in the centre. The lock was what caught her attention though. Its key was a locket. The small heart shaped locket opened up to the shape of two hearts which when pressed into the indents on the book opened the lock. It was perfect.

ooOOoo

She was so tired. All she wanted to do was sleep. The idea of disappearing off back to the Burrow and find a nice soft place to lie down was looking better and better. The boys had insisted that she come with them while they played a game of Quidditch. The prospect of making her way back to the house was not inviting however. Her feet were exploding out of her shoes practically. Here would have to do.

Muffling a yawn with her hand she folded her arms under her head as she lay on the grass under a rather large oak. Her feet were crossed at the ankles and resting against the trunk of the tree at a nearly 90o angle to her body. Although it was a rather odd position it offered her comfort.

She watched as the boy dived and twisted through the air along with Ginny. She pretty much was one of the guys.

Her eyes were so heavy. She would only close them for a minute.

ooOOoo

When her eyes opened again it was much darker and she was in a bed; her bed at Hogwarts. "Oh my goodness," she muttered as her hands went to her stomach. Finally all the pieces clicked into place, everything made sense. She had been pregnant.

ooOOoo

Not really feeling up to breakfast Tuesday morning, Hermione decided to take her breakfast from the kitchens, enjoying the stroll down through the portrait lined hall.

She didn't know what to think. What _would_ a person her situation think? She had lost a huge chunk of her memory containing what appeared to be some of the most important memories of her life so far. If there was a child of hers out there somewhere she hadn't the foggiest who the father would be. She'd never 'done it', or even come close to doing it! But a lot could change over 10 months.

She felt so lost and there was still the mystery of Paul. Clearly she had put a lot of trust in him. From what she could gather she went looking for him when she was about to give birth. Perhaps he was the father? She had after all brought him a Christmas Present. Now that she thought about it, Christmas wasn't that far away.

How could she have kept a pregnancy secret? The huge stomach was just the beginning. Her mother frequently relived the tales of swollen feet, constant back pain and never-ending morning sickness to her, not to mention the gorier parts such as heart burn, constipation, haemorrhoids and of course the actual, drug free, birth.

She hadn't even realised that she'd reached the kitchen she was so caught up in her thoughts.

"Miss! Miss!" called a high pitch voice, breaking her from her thoughts.

"Dobby?" she enquired as the knee high house-elf came bounding towards her, at least five tea cosies balanced on his head.

"Miss, Miss, is you here with more?" he asked urgently, rocking backwards and forwards on his feet.

"More?" She had no idea what he was talking about.

"More drink for baby!"

"_What_?"

"More milk. Miffy has been saying you was sick. Dobby wanted to come help make you better but you said never to be disturbing you, that you would come to Dobby. That is why Dobby is so happy you is here! Come, come, come sit," he said hurriedly, grabbing her hand and dragging her over to a table and chair.

"Dobby?" she asked as she was seated by three house-elves, "What baby?"

"Your baby, Miss Hermione."

"My baby?" She had had a baby, a child. She _was_ a mum. She was slowly getting her head around the situation. It was true. "Dobby, is the baby a girl or a boy?"

"A little girl, Miss, she is very pretty." Several elves nodded in agreement as they shoved several plates of food in front of her. At the moment food was the last thing on her mind.

"I have a little girl," she whispered to herself. She had a daughter, a little baby. A thought suddenly hit her. "Dobby, where is my baby? Is she here?"

"No, Miss. She is where you left her."

"Where I left her?" she asked, realising the implications of his statement. She had no memory of her child, her little girl and she had gone and left her somewhere before she was admitted to the Hospital Wing. Images of a screaming baby in a deserted classroom came to her mind.

"Yes, Miss. She is being well looked after, but I's never going to see her anymores. You said I was not allowed to and Dobby is a good House-elf and I is not going to see her."

"Where is she Dobby?"

"She is safe and happy, Boris says so." The house-elves who had surrounded her had finally disappeared and gone back to their work and left her and Dobby alone.

"Who is Boris?" she asked.

"He is the house-elf that is cleaning her rooms."

"Dobby, I don't know if you know this or not but a couple of weeks ago, I lost my memory. I can't remember anything this year or the end of the year before. I can't remember anything about my daughter."

"Oh dear, dear, Boris will have to take you to se-" suddenly the house-elf stopped. "Master is calling I must go to him and you must go to class Miss Hermione." And just like that he disappeared.

Looking at her watch she saw that it was indeed time for class. Shoving away, again, her uncertain memories she dashed off to Transfiguration.

ooOOoo

"Go Harry," Hermione shouted, waving her around as Harry dove in a mad spiral towards the elusive snitch to win the Quidditch Cup. The crowd roared with her. She cheered as her friend pulled out of the free dive, with inches to spare. Levelling his broom he sped along slowly rising. He was flat against the broom as he sped along the pitch, only several feet from Hermione.

Out of no where came one of the Ravenclaw Chasers, his broom spinning like a top through the air. By the time she saw him it was too late to get away. She turned away trying to duck to avoid the incoming Quidditch player but he hit her square on. She screamed as he threw her several feet through the air before landing across one of the seats. She cried out, an arm wrapping around her battered abdomen.

People rushed around her and the Chaser. Several of the students had helped her off the chair and onto her back. Within moments the teachers arrived, the different Heads attending to their students.

"Miss Granger, stay right where you are," ordered Professor McGonagall as she tried to stand. The Professor appeared at the top of the staircase and rushed over, her wand drawn.

"It's only a bruise," she insisted after assessing the damage herself. "I'll be fine," she insisted as she was raised on a stretcher.

"I'll be the judge of that," her Head of House told her sharply. She ran her wand over her stomach. "Poppy's busy with some students on the field." After a fearful moment she spoke. "It only appears to be a little bruising." But before she could cast a spell Professor Flitwick called out to her to come and help with his student.

Taking the break Hermione slipped off the stretcher, nearly crying out when her feet touched the ground. Pain lanced through her side and abdomen. In any other situation she would have stayed and waited for the teachers to cast a few healing charms but currently she was not at all willing for them to be casting any spells at her.

Sneaking off with only a slight wobble she weaved through the crowds towards the castle. The closer she got to the castle the thinner the crowd got. Harry had caught the snitch and all the other students were heading back inside. Slowing her pace she let herself be one with the crowd so the teachers, more specifically McGonagall could not find her. They would want to spread their healing powers around, something which might hurt more than heal.

Making it to the ground floor lavatory she slipped inside, casting a few privacy spells including a muffling charm so no one would be able to hear her. Shaking all over, she sat down on the lid of the toilet. It hurt so much. Lifting her jumper and shirt she could see the already forming bruise, it went right across her, from just under her rib cage across to her hip, she could see that the bruise was already a hand width wide.

Fumbling in her pocket she pulled out a small vial with a creamy white substance. Breaking the seal she downed the mild potion. It was currently the only thing she had with her to help with the pain. She had intended it for her sore feet but fate had a different idea.

Reaching into her pocket she was relived to find her crystal in one piece. Slumping down on the seat she carefully revealed the tops of her stripped undies and a large portion of her stomach. Placing it on her abdomen she created a diamond around it with her forefingers and thumbs. She made a silent prayer before whispering the activation charm. Soon symbols rose from its peak, the purple writing and symbols moving around the crystals in different speeds. She didn't know what they all meant, but it was something she was learning quickly. She found the information she needed though. Her hands broke apart as she drew them to her mouth to stifle a sob, even though she needed not to. Immediately the crystal stopped and sat there still and dull like any Muggle crystal.

It was not good. Who was she kidding? She was miscarrying.

It took her several minutes to get herself together but she was soon up two levels sitting in Myrtle's bathroom, the ghost sitting beside her, watching her quickly brew. She had summoned her _What to Expect When You're Expecting_ book. The book was currently sitting open beside her at an emergency potion. Of course they strongly suggested that any concerns be immediately taken to a qualified medi-witch or –wizard, but they also offered a potion which would help stabilised the unborn child in the event of the accident. This was exactly the potion she was after.

"What's it fooorrr?" Myrtle asked, gazing at the greenish blue looking potion. It was rather like a pensive at this stage, neither smoke nor water in consistency.

"To make me better," Hermione answered. Her calm voice betrayed her internal feelings.

"Whyyyyyy?" she asked like a three year old.

"Because I got hurt." Unconsciously she placed an arm around her midsection trying to protect her baby from the harm it had already sustained.

The relationship between the two had gotten much friendlier since Hermione started coming to the toilet to brew the many potions she needed. It was not often Myrtle threw a fit and flooded the toilets these days. Mind you, if she wanted to be able to use the toilets on a constant basis she had to be nice to the ghost.

"Can I see?" asked the former student eagerly.

"Maybe later," she answered almost off handily. The ghost sighed as she drifted back to her favourite toilet.

Minutes later Hermione held a dose of the potion in hand, the rest still sitting in the cauldron. She wasted no time in knocking the potent potion back. When her glass was empty, sleep quickly over came her, forcing her to the tiled floor, the empty beaker rolling towards the drain.

ooOOoo

When Hermione went back to the kitchens the next day there was no sight of Dobby. One of the house-elves told her that he had been sent away to do something for their

Master, Professor Dumbledore, and hadn't returned. When she tried to speak to one of the other elves they muttered apologies and turned away.

She wasn't able to find Dobby, or Miffy, or even Boris to speak with before the holidays. Perhaps that was because Boris didn't actually work at Hogwarts?

Over the holidays she set her sights on looking for the apartment were Paul lived.

ooOOoo

Drawing in a shaky breath Hermione raised her hand to the door. A moment later it opened to reveal the same man from the ambulance.

"Hermione," he greeted, a little stunned by her appearance at his door. "Wh…what are you doing here? Is something wrong?" His concern was clearly evident.

She managed a nod before the tears began to form. Noticing her distress he quickly ushered her into his apartment, shutting the door behind her. There were several articles of clothing strewn about but that was all. It was a relatively clean home.

"Come sit down," he encouraged her, directing her to the couch sitting in the middle of the room facing away from the door.

Taking a seat on the edge of the sofa, the man beside her also sat down, removing a few pillows so that they could both sit comfortably, resting against the back.

Hermione reached behind her, pulling out another pillow and clutching it to her chest for support. She had no idea where to begin. She was scared. She didn't know what she was going to do. She was seventeen years old.

"Paul I…I…" She couldn't say it, she couldn't, but she had to. Her hazel eyes turned to him.

"Where have you been Hermione?" Paul asked softly. "You just disappeared. I had no idea where to even start to look."

She began to realise what it must had been like for them. She did just disappear. It was not like she had a choice, she had to finally get back to school, but she hadn't told any of them that she was leaving. After all that Paul had done for her she just up and left without so much as a hinted good-bye.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, averting her eyes from his seeking ones and focusing on the fabric of her pants. When he still didn't speak she continued. "I…I had to go back. I had been away for so long."

"Go back where?" he asked, a hint of caution in his voice.

"To school." Hermione turned her eyes to his. "Up north. It's a boarding school. I live there most of the year."

"How far north?" Paul asked. "There aren't any boarding schools north of here?"

"Scotland," she replied.

"Scotland!" he nearly exclaimed. "How did you get to Scotland?"

"By bus," she answered honestly. "They let me pay when I got home."

"If you, as you say, go to school in Scotland, what brings you to this humble home so far south?"

The change of subject was rather sudden. Paul seemed very willing to accept her story. He had plenty of reason not to and Hermione had plenty of reason to lie, but he accepted it none the less.

Hermione drew in a slightly shuddering breath and released it slowly. It did little to calm her though. Absently she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and bravely looked Paul in the eye once more.

"You're the only one I could turn to," she started, voice wavering, but holding. "I remembered the times that you said I could tell you anything, that you would do whatever you could for me, just name the word. I didn't know what to do when I found out, I was so scared, I'm still scared witless now." She paused. Paul sat there still listening, his face and posture open. "It's just…I. I don't know how to say it," she muttered.

"Just say it as it is, I won't judge you."

After a moment she gathered the courage. "I'm pre-nant." And the tears began to roll.

"Oh, Hermione," he said as he scooted closer, placing a calming hand on her shoulder.

"I didn't want this. I never expected this. I… I…" she paused to draw in a shaky breath. "I didn't even know until last week," she said softly.

"Everything is going to be okay," he assured her. "Firstly, who is the father, does he know?"

Hermione averted her eyes choosing instead to look at the pillow in her lap.

"I don't know," she said softly. She could feel Paul's questioning gaze. "I've never…I don't sleep around or anything like that… I just… Its from that night." She couldn't hold it in anymore as the dams fully broke.

"Oh, honey."

ooOOoo


End file.
