The House-elf appeared with a crack. Malfoy didn't remove his eyes from Stroud.
"Escort Stroud to the drawing room. I'll be down when I'm done dealing with the situation here."
Stroud huffed, but she was still pale and her hands shook as she gathered her files. As the door shut, Malfoy turned back to stare down at Hermione. She had stopped crying and was trying to breathe steadily.
He gave a low sigh and then pulled her to her feet.
"Come," he said as he led her across the room to her bed, studying her carefully before reaching into his robes and withdrawing a vial of Dreamless Sleep Draught. "Considering recent events I'm afraid I don't trust you conscious and alone. Take this."
Hermione extended a leaden hand and accepted the vial but then stared down at it hesitantly. Her breath kept hitching.
"Some Potions can result in fetal abnormalities. I don't — remember whether Dreamless Sleep is safe," she said in a wavering voice.
"It's fine."
She glanced up at Malfoy. How on earth would he know that?
He met her eyes. "I was concerned something like this might happen if you ever got pregnant. I verified it."
She continued to hesitate.
"I'm not asking. If you refuse I will make you," he said in a hard voice.
Hermione pressed her lips together and swallowed hard as her chest continued to stutter. She unstoppered the vial unsteadily and brought it to her lips. As soon as she swallowed the contents, she choked and burst into tears again. The vial slipped from her hands and plunged down onto the floor, shattering.
"Oh god..." She sobbed into her hands as the potion hit her system and overtook her mind like a black tidal wave. She sank onto the bed. "Oh god...oh god...please."
Her eyes slid shut as she continued to cry. She was dimly aware of her legs been lifted up onto the mattress. Darkness swallowed her.
"I'm sorry, Granger."
Chapter End Notes
He tasted of firewhiskey by minxchester.
"Don't, Granger, don't," by enselius.
Do not hurt yourself by incendiosketches.
"I'm Sorry, Granger" by _knar.m_
Half-stripped and aroused by dragonly.art.
Chapter 25
When Hermione opened her eyes, it was late evening. Turning her head, she found Malfoy standing in front of the portrait on the wall, speaking to it in a low voice.
The witch in the painting immediately caught sight of Hermione's movement and gestured over his shoulder. He stopped speaking and turned on his heel to stare at her.
He looked tired and singularly unenthused by his impending fatherhood.
Hermione felt as though she were going to be sick.
She squeezed her eyes shut, curled into a defensive ball and tried not to start crying again. She could hear the clipped sound of Malfoy's shoes as he crossed the room and approached her bed.
There was a long silence and she could feel his gaze on her. She tucked her chin down against her shoulder and willed him away.
“You are not allowed to hurt yourself, or do anything to cause an abortion or miscarriage.”
It was not a statement, it was a command. She could feel the flush of heat around her wrists.
“I'm sure you'll try to rationalise it as being protective in an attempt to get around the compulsions, but it is not. You are not allowed to do anything to end your pregnancy.”
She could feel the prick of tears in the corner of her eyes and sobbed faintly.
“Topsy, will monitoring you full-time now, to ensure you don't experience any misfortunes like tripping on the stairs, or chewing on a sprig of yew. She's cared for pregnant witches before, so she's well aware of what you can and cannot eat or drink. She has my permission to immediately restrain you if you try anything.”
Hermione didn't say anything. Malfoy remained standing beside her bed for several minutes before he sighed faintly. She heard his retreating footsteps and the click of the door.
She stayed in bed, and alternated between crying and sleeping; curled up tightly, wrapping her arms around her stomach protectively.
“I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry,” she whispered again and again. “I would do anything to spare you from this world.”
Malfoy reappeared after four days.
“You cannot lie moping for nine months,” he said. “You need to eat. You should go outside.”
Hermione ignored him and hoped he'd leave. Unless he intended to force her from the bed she had no intention of moving. There was a long silence. She could feel his eyes on her.
“I have something for you,” he finally said.
She felt something heavy press into the coverlet and cracked an eye open. There was a thick book laid beside her. A Guide to Effective Care in Magical Pregnancy and Childbirth.
She closed her eyes again.
“I can't touch your books,” she said, her mouth twisting as she spoke and her voice shaking faintly. “Astoria had them all warded against Mudbloods.”
“This is not from the manor library.” Malfoy's tone was faintly amused. “It won't burn you.”
There was a pause.
“I will expect you to get out of bed tomorrow.”
After he left, Hermione opened her eyes again and tentatively reached toward the book, resting a finger lightly on the cover. There was no burning sensation as she came in contact with it.
She pulled it closer, drawing it against her chest and holding it tightly.
The next day, Hermione forced herself out bed and went over to the window. The book was brand new; the leather spine creaked slightly as she lifted the cover, and the pages smelled faintly of machine oil and ink. It was three inches thick and printed on scritta paper. She started on the table of contents and read for hours straight.
It was a medical textbook rather than a basic pregnancy guide for a lay-witch. It was thoughtful of Malfoy to realise she'd prefer that.
She was deep into a chapter on endocrine regulation influencing adequate trophoblast invasion when Malfoy walked into her room again.
She clutched at the edges of her book reactively as he stared down at her with a contemplative expression.
“When did you last go outside?” he finally asked.
Hermione hesitated and swallowed. “The day you went to France. I went outside.”
His eyes narrowed. “For how long?”
Hermione jutted her jaw out slightly and flushed. “Less than a minute.”
Irritation flickered across his expression. “And before that?”
Hermione was silent and dropped her eyes.
“You haven't been outside since the equinox, have you?”
Hermione stared down, unblinking, at the page in front of her until the words blurred. Malfoy sighed.
“Get up,” he ordered.
She stood up, clutching her book tightly across her chest. He gave another sigh.
“You cannot bring that, it weighs nearly five pounds. I'm not having you drag it around the estate. Leave it here.”
Hermione held it tighter. He raised his right hand and gripped his temples as though he had a headache.
“No one is going to steal it or take it if you leave it here. If they do, I'll buy you another one. Leave it.” The final words were a command.
Hermione reluctantly put it down on her bed and then went to retrieve her boots from the wardrobe. While she was getting ready Malfoy stared out the window, studying the horizon. Then he turned sharply and glanced over her briefly before striding toward the door.