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2# The Reason


'Hermione! Hermione, what's wrong? Tell me!'

Draco was hanging on to Hermione, his heart beating fastly with anxiety. Hermione had her eyes closed, her nails boring into Draco's arms, but Draco was oblivious to the pain. She moaned again and again, writhing in pain.

'ELVES! HOPPY, TIPSY, VELVA - COME HERE!'

Draco yelled with all his might as Hermione groaned again. Three small elves appeared by Draco's side at once, cowering under his apparent rage.

'Hoppy, get a towel and some cold water,' snarled Draco. 'Tipsy, you stay here. Velva, open those windows, NOW!'

The three elves scurried about hurriedly; they had never seen their master in a worse temper. Draco grasped Hermione even tighter, who was still moaning, and whispered softly to her.

'Hermione, I'm going to lie you down on the bed, OK? Hermione...'

Hermione looked at him, drenched in cold sweat. Her answer came out in pants.

'Don't think... that this... makes us friends,' she gasped, as Draco ignored the comment and picked her up. Even when she was in this much pain, she hated him. She gasped again and put her hands over her stomach.

Hoppy appeared a moment later. Draco snatched the towel from him and drenched it in cold water. He moved some strands of hair away from Hermione's eyes, then cooled her forehead.

'Where is that idiot Zabini and the Healer,' he hissed angrily, ignoring Hermione's protests. She didn't want him to touch her, but he didn't care.

He leaned down to her and tried to understand what was wrong. She had seemed fine when they had arrived - exhausted, but otherwise fine. What had gone wrong?

'Hermione - ' he whispered softly, patting her shoulder. 'Hermione, what's the matter? Why are you ill?'

Hermione just shook her head and groaned again. Draco was hit with irritation. Why couldn't she just trust him? He drenched the towel in water once more.

'Hermione, I need to know if I'm to heal you,' he said, a little more angrily. He felt horribly helpless, and Malfoys never felt helpless.

Hermione just closed her eyes and shook her head.

'You're not going to heal me,' she whispered. 'You'd never heal this.'

Draco looked at her, confused. Of course he would heal her. How could she assume that he wouldn't?

A few moments later, Blaise Zabini re-Apparated, a plump man in white robes by his side. He was wearing spectacles and looked concerned.

'Healer Twine,' Draco said hurriedly, motioning to Hermione. 'See to her.'

Healer Twine was Draco's personal Healer. He never used anyone else. Twine was a man of great patience and understanding, but he had never approved entirely of Draco. He knew that Draco had worked for the Dark side before its fall, just a few days ago, and had also been slightly anxious when visiting him. So he felt quite mystified seeing a young woman lying on the bed, clearly in a great deal of pain. Draco Malfoy didn't love anything or anyone. Why would he care about a sick woman?

Twine walked towards Draco, who very hesitantly left Hermione in Twine's care. He bent down close, listened to her breathing, took out his wand and prodded her lightly. Draco retreated to Blaise's corner, where Blaise was watching, interested.

'You should congratulate me for finding him,' Blaise said quietly to Draco. 'St. Mungo's was a mess. Lot's of injured people from the Final Battle.'

'I am not in the mood to congratulate anyone!' snapped Draco, clearly frustrated.

Twine stood up, looking at Draco, slightly worried.

'This woman is pregnant,' he said, dreading Draco's reaction.

The silence that followed these words was unbearable.

Draco could hardly believe it. His Hermione, pregnant? With whose child? Draco bored his nails into the palms of his hand, the heat rising in his face. He wanted to gag at the thought of Hermione sleeping with Ron. Anger. Anger such as he had never known filled inside him, along with jealousy, horror and extreme despair. Even though he had known that they were engaged, he had never thought of them that way. His Hermione had always been pure, loving, completely innocent.

'Pregnant?' whispered Draco, clearly furious. 'Pregnant?'

'You didn't know?' mumbled Twine, worried.

'Of course I didn't know!' snarled Draco. 'Pregnant? How many months?'

'I'd say about three - maybe four,' said Twine hesitantly, nervously fiddling with his wand.

'You must be mistaken,' snapped Draco. 'Why didn't I notice?'

'If the baby is the woman's first child...' murmured Twine, 'well, you don't notice these things until she's three months ahead.'

'She doesn't even look pregnant!' shouted Draco, as Twine shushed him.

'She is in a state of stress,' mumbled Twine. 'I assume that she has lost weight...'

Draco glared at Blaise, as if hoping he'd come up with some magical solution. Hoping that someone would tell him that it was all a lie. All Blaise did was raise his eyebrows, and looked at Twine. Draco glanced at Hermione, who appeared to have fainted. Blaise coughed.

'So what's wrong with her?' he asked coolly.

'Excuse me?' said Twine.

'What's wrong with the woman?' repeated Blaise. 'Why is she ill?'

'She's in a state of stress, as I said before,' answered Twine. 'And she hasn't been eating... It's her first baby, it's very risky.'

'So she might lose it?' snarled Draco, hoping it would happen, and yet at the same time fearing it.

Twine nodded.

'But if she enters the fifth month safely, all risks should vanish.'

Draco and Blaise exchanged glances.

'What does she need to do?' asked Draco, coughing.

'For now, she needs rest. Make sure she eats something,' said Twine, gathering his things. 'Don't make her strain herself.' He looked from Blaise to Draco. 'Who is she, by the way?'

Draco narrowed his eyes.

'That is none of your business, I believe,' he answered, pointing to the door. 'You are dismissed.'

'I will check up on her in two weeks,' said Twine, hurriedly walking towards the door. Draco looked at Hermione, signalled the elves to stay with her, then walked out of the room with Blaise and the Healer.


'Pregnant, eh, mate? That's a mouthful.'

Blaise and Draco were sitting at the dining table, eating a nicely served meal. At least Blaise was. Draco was sitting in silence, still shocked over the news he had just learned. Blaise seemed to be rather amused. He was cutting out his food slowly, eying Draco and laughing occasionally.

'You couldn't have expected her to keep herself pure for you,' Blaise continued, taking a bite of his roast beef.

Draco waved his hand about, tapping the table with his fingers.

'I know,' he said. 'But... What am I to do, Blaise? Should I allow her to keep this baby? And when it's born? I had not anticipated this!'

Blaise slowly chewed the meat, then swallowed it. Leaning across the table, he surveyed Draco.

'Do you want Granger to love you, Draco?' he asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

Draco looked up, surprised.

'Of course.'

'Then let her keep this baby,' Blaise said, taking a sip of wine. 'The worst one can do to a mother is to take her child away.'

'But...!' Draco stood up in frustration. 'Do you not see what has happened, Blaise? I vowed to take everyone she loved away, so the only person left to love was me. And now? Why, now Weasley's child is inside her, and when it's born, she'll have a little souvenir of their so-called undying love! This is a catastophe!'

Draco was shouting now, his mind dazed with panic. He sat down again, as Blaise continue to survey him.

'And I, who had planned everything so well...' Draco shook his head. 'She will hate me if I take this baby away.'

'She hates you already,' said Blaise, laughing.

'I was to make sure that she would stop hating me, Zabini,' said Draco coldly. 'No... There is no other way; she must keep this baby. Perhaps I can rid her of it once it is born. Put it up for adoption.'

Blaise shook his head.

'You know nothing of women, Draco,' he sighed, returning to his roast beef.

Before Draco could snap back, Velva, the house elf who had been watching over Hermione, nervously walked into the dining room and bowed its master.

'The Miss has woken up, sir,' it squeaked.

Draco jumped up immediately. Before he could leave the room, however, Blaise asked him a question.

'Tell me, Draco, what is the reason of this sudden change in you?'

Draco looked up, his gaze meeting Blaise's determined smirk.

'She's the reason.'

Draco entered the bedroom barely 30 seconds later.

Hermione was sitting up in the bed, her eyes cast downwards, her hands on her lap. Draco couldn't say why, but there was something grand, almost stunning about her right then. It was as if she was determined not to be defeated, as if she had become emotionally powerful despite the recent events.

Draco quietly closed the door behind him, then went over to sit down beside her. She looked up, her fiery eyes cursing him, then edged slightly away. Draco sighed.

They sat in silence for several minutes. For once in his life, Draco didn't know what to say. He noticed the way Hermione had her hands over her stomach, the way a sort of softness came over her every now and again.

'You're pregnant,' Draco finally said, sighing.

Hermione looked up, met his gaze and coldly nodded.

'Why didn't you tell me?' said Draco in a rush; he had been burning to ask her this question.

Hermione gave a dry laugh.

'What was I to say?' she said sarcastically. 'And why should I have said it? I owe nothing to you. You are nothing to me.'

Draco felt his insides whirl about with anger, but he ignored it. His hand inched its way to hers, but she drew it away immediately.

'Stop it,' she spat. 'Stop trying to convince me that - that we're meant to be together or something. I'm devoted to Ron.'

Draco was just about to yell that Ron was dead and gone forever, but he remembered what Twine had said. Instead, he ignored the comment and smoothed out the sheets.

'Are you still in pain?' he asked coolly, trying to fight the desire to touch her hair.

Hermione looked up again, eyebrows raised, trying to discover the malicious intent behind this sentence. When she found none, she shook her head.

'Are you hungry?' asked Draco. She said nothing. 'You must be. I'll send some food up.'

He stood up, but Hermione said, 'Wait.' Turning around, Draco smiled, thinking that she was about to thank him.

'I will never forgive you, Malfoy,' she whispered coldly, 'I'll never forgive you for taking me here.'

Draco scowled, his heart beating wildly. He slammed the door behind him.


Hermione sat in silence once Draco had left. Her hands stroke her stomach, almost as if she imagined her baby in her arms already. She heaved a sigh of relief; not only was Draco gone, but her baby had survived the crisis she had just been through. She vowed not to strain herself anymore. She was going to have this baby and it was going to grow up to be just like Ron. Who cared for Draco or anyone else, as long as her and Ron's baby was alive and well?

Still, she couldn't help feeling a little despair. She thought about her life before the Malfoy Manor; it seemed ages away, even though it had barely been days. She thought about the little cottage she and Ron had rented, how excited they had been when they found it. It was in the country, not far away from the Burrow, and she and Ron would wake up early in the morning to take long walks. They had picked all sorts of flowers and pinned them up all over the house.

The weekdays had been exciting. Ron and Hermione both shared the same ambition: to become well accomplished Aurors one day. They had succesfully been accepted at Auror training, together with Harry, and every day was filled with excitement and knowledge. Hermione had found herself in a time happier than any other, even happier than her years at Hogwarts, as she now had Ron by her side.

Their feelings had come gradually. They barely noticed them at first - they had been so preoccupied by Harry and the prophecy. But at one point, the feelings grew stronger than possible, so it was impossible to deny them. Hermione had never thought that Ron could possibly feel the same way, and she could still remember how much she had blushed the day Ron had asked her out in her seventh year.

Hermione wiped the tears off her cheeks. All that had happened just a few months ago. She was 24 now. She had been engaged to Ron.

She hadn't wanted to get married at first; she had always thought marriage was oldfashioned and expensive. But Ron managed to convince her into thinking it as romantic, and she accepted. They saved every penny up for a beautiful wedding. The marriage would have been in two months if it had not been for the Final Battle.

Hermione cursed the man who had killed Ron. She would kill him one day, she promised herself. She would find out who had killed her beloved and then assure him the same fate.

Hermione laid back down on her pillows and whispered softly to her baby:

'I'll protect you. Don't worry.'


Cheers!

Christy