Chapter Text
Chapter 2: What Have We Done
"HARRY! HELP ME!" Hermione cried out, pressing her palms over Ron's splinted arm. "GET IN MY BAG! GET OUT THE DITTANY!"
With Ron's blood rolling over her fingers, the delay felt like hours, but she was sure it was only moments before Harry was throwing the jar at her. Dipping her hand into the thick green paste, she applied it over the wound. Ron's arm began stitching itself up before her eyes, but the vision of his muscles hanging out just made her…
Turning away just in time, Hermione threw up what little was left from breakfast. Already having thrown up right after Kreacher had fed them, she knew that her stomach was completely empty now. With only stomach acid coming up, Hermione’s throat burned from the sensation.
"Hey, I'll finish up here. I’ll just give Ron some blood-refilling potion, and then he'll be asleep for a while," Harry whispered, rubbing his hand along her back.
Choking on the foul taste lingering in her mouth, Hermione shook her head in response. "No, I have to set the wards. I haven't taught you how yet. Just get the tent set up and get Ron inside. I'll be fine," she said as she stood up and walked away, vanishing her sick. Another charm cleaned her mouth until she could brush her teeth properly—the Muggle way.
The tent was constructed entirely in a few seconds with just a flick of Harry's wand. He levitated Ron's unconscious form inside as Hermione began waving her wand and muttering all the incantations they'd need to keep them hidden from prying eyes.
A soft pop startled Hermione. She turned and raised her wand, ready to attack if necessary. Her eyes darted around, looking for the noise's origin.
Before Hermione stood a familiar petite house elf; her dingy and tattered pillowcase hung off her petite frame, and one of her ears had a large hole. Her eyes were large, round, and brown, so dark that they were almost black.
“Pippa? What are you doing here? How did you find me?” Hermione demanded as Theo’s elf beamed up at her.
“Missy Mia! Pippa has been waiting all day for you to be alone! Such a naughty Missy to sneak to the bad places in her delicate condition!” The elf scolded her as she walked over to stand right before Hermione, hands on her hips. “Oh, the magic is being strong with this one. It will be very powerful indeed.”
Still in shock from the elf's appearance, she’d nearly forgotten about setting the wards around their camp. Jolted back to her task, knowing the dangers of leaving the wards unfinished, Hermione stopped again, gaping at Pippa as she pulled out a small burlap sack and reached in, her entire arm disappearing.
Horrified at herself for getting distracted yet again, she snapped back to her task of finishing the wards she had been working on. Once that was complete, Hermione turned back around to face Pippa, who was still smiling at her, holding out a potion bottle. “To help with the sickness, Missy needs to be eating more to stay healthy and strong!”
“I’m sorry, Pippa. I do not mean to be rude, but what are you talking about? How have you found me, and what are you doing here?” Hermione asked, taking the potion from the elf and sniffing it. Knowing that Pippa would never harm her, Hermione drank down the potion since she was so dedicated to Theo. The nausea she’d been feeling dissipated instantly, leaving her feeling better than she had all day. How she loved magic.
Pippa handed her what was a Pepper-up potion, followed by a strange shimmering fuchsia that Hermione had never seen before. “Pippa, what is this? I don’t recognize it,” Hermione asked, removing the lid and smelling it.
“Pippa gives Mistress a prenatal potion to help keep the next Nott Heir healthy, of course.” The potion slipped from Hermione’s grasp and shattered with a dull thud. “Naughty Missy," the elf scolded, "dropping her potions that she must be taking to keep the baby healthy. It’s okay; Pippa brought more, but no more waste, Missy Mia. Pippa can’t be coming to care for you daily, but she is bringing a bag to help with everything you need when I can’t come.”
“I’m not pregnant, Pippa. I’m not sure where you got that idea or how you’ve found me, but I can assure you that I am not carrying the next Nott Heir in here,” Hermione said, motioning over her flat stomach. To get pregnant, one would have to be having sex. Hermione had not had sex regularly since the night before Dumbledore died, and that was back in June. Well, there was the romp she and Theo had at Bill and Fleur’s wedding a little over a month ago, but she was positive she’d cast the contraceptive charm after they had finished…
Wait? Had they? Hermione wracked her brain, trying to remember. Oh shite!
No, they hadn’t. She’d left Theo on a blanket because it was just as they'd finished when the Death Eaters had broken the wards at The Burrow. She hadn't even scourgified herself, relishing the feeling of him dripping out of her. Oh sweet Merlin, Morgana, and Mordred. Their Breeding Kink was coming back to bite her in the arse this time. Just because she liked the thrill of Theo cuming inside her didn’t mean that they were ever actually trying to make a baby.
“Pippa, how did you find me?” Hermione asked again, slowly looking down into the elf’s dark eyes and swallowing back the bile that had nothing to do with her nausea.
“Master’s Theo’s Heir is inside you. For now, you are tied into the Nott family magic. The baby’s heartbeat and Magical Signature are only a few days old, but Missy Mia hasn’t been alone long enough for Pippa to bring her what she needs to care for the baby. Nott elves can’t share family secrets with Master Thoros, so Pippa was not allowed to appear in front of anyone but Missy Mia.”
“You haven't told Theo, have you? Oh, Gods, Pippa, you can’t tell him that I’m on the run with Harry and Ron. He’ll go mental if he finds out,” Hermione said, sitting down on a rock and letting her head drop into her hands.
She fingered the Protean Charmed coin that they used to communicate. Hermione and Theo could send coded messages to each other in serial numbers using the book Language of Flowers.
When discussing the upcoming war, she expressed concern for her parents' safety due to her friendship with Harry. After realizing she would have to go on the run with Harry, Hermione had come to the painful decision of erasing herself to keep them safe. She'd told Theo that she planned on sending her parents out of the country and to safety.
Theo had assumed she also intended to join them but never corrected him. It was too late to tell him the truth about what she was doing. No, it was better, safer if he didn't know, especially after he… Well, it was just better this way.
"Pippa can't tell Master Theo about his baby, Missy Mia. Nott elves can only tell family secrets to Master Thoros," Pippa repeated, making Hermione's stomach begin to roll as nerves crept back into her at the thought of Thoros Nott.
"His father can't find out, Pippa," Hermione began to beg the elf. "He'll kill Theo. Oh no, oh no, oh no. Please, Pippa, tell me you didn't tell that monster about the baby." The tears were streaming down Hermione's face, her hand protectively cradling her abdomen over the tiny life growing there. A small hand with long, bony fingers began soothingly massaging her scalp over her curls.
"Hush, oh there, Missy. Pippa can only tell family secrets to Master Thoros. But Pippa is not being ordered to tell the Master all family secrets." Hermione looked up at the tiny elf, her lashes heavy with tears. The creature's wink made her laugh, although all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball or scream. A bit of both?
"What am I to do? I'm only seventeen, and Theo just turned seventeen. We're on opposite sides of the war. His father will kill all three of us without a second thought and make it as painful as possible.” Hermione felt her breaths coming in short and ragged as every thought crossed her racing mind.
"Harry and Ron will freak out if they find out. Ron, especially, will go completely mad. Pippa, I don't know what to do." Hermione cried, leaning into the tiny elf, who held her while she cried.
"There, there, Missy. Pippa will be helping you." And the pair stayed outside the tent well after the sun disappeared behind the trees.
ooo
Ron was gone. He'd really and truly fucking left them. Ron had already cut his losses and fucking abandoned his ‘best friends.’
The selfish fucking prick couldn't handle wearing the damned locket and left. It was as if Ron were the only one having horrors and other evils whispered into his head. Accusing Harry of not knowing what he was doing, as if Harry hadn't told them everything he'd known. The fucking wanker just up and left Hermione and Harry, by themselves, after swearing the three of them were in this together.
Tears streaming down her face, Hermione pulled out her coin. Theo's latest message to her was pure love, hope in adversity, and good wishes.
She knew he wouldn't ever tell her how he was doing, but she knew he was with Draco, which was at least a comfort. Draco had broken up with Theo in an attempt to keep him safe. Their dedication to each other was something to behold, and at that moment, Hermione envied them.
As far as Hermione knew, Draco didn't know of her infatuation with their relationship with Theo. She knew that Draco and Theo had been in love with each other since their Fourth Year. Even breaking up didn’t lessen Theo’s devotion to Draco. She thought most girls might feel jealous or uncomfortable with how much her boyfriend pined after his ex, but not Hermione. Something about the three of them thought…right? She knew that, like her, there was nothing that the Slytherin Prince would not do for the Nott Heir; any extreme would be reasonable if it just kept Theo safe.
Draco's commitment to Theo's safety only grew her feelings for the blonde. It was hard not to fancy the man who kept the love of her life safe at all costs.
You could have them both. A voice whispered inside her head. The same voice that always came whenever she wore the blasted Horcrux.
You could become Lady Nott and Lady Malfoy. With my help, Thoros would never hurt Theodore again… Lucius could never manipulate Draco again. You could even have them both. Theodore and Draco would cherish you…worship you as their wife every day as long as you lived. Hermione pressed her hands over her ears, willing the voice to disappear. Draco would protect you both. You and the baby could live happy, long lives with them. You could even birth the next Malfoy Heir. You only need to come to the Dark Lord and tell him what you know.
The tears that always came when the locket spoke to her poured out her eyes. She knew they were all lies, even if she wished it were reality—hand over Harry Potter. Tell Lord Voldemort about your hunt; he will thank you. He will reward you.
Visions danced in her mind of Theo holding her face and kissing her deeply while Draco kissed her neck from behind, his hands caressing her full breasts, her stomach swollen with her pregnancy, that still couldn’t be seen. They both strip her down and worship her body for growing their baby. The visions grew more and more explicit: Theo filling her, Draco suckling her sensitive nipples, drinking her milk.
She shuddered, with desire or terror—she didn’t know which. If the Horcrux knew about this, did that mean Voldemort knew? No…he couldn’t, else he’d know where they were…
"'Mione? You alright?" Harry’s voice and hand on her shoulder startled her out of the trance from the locket.
Furiously wiping the tears away, Hermione plastered a false smile on her lips. "Of course, I'm fine," Hermione lied. "Was there something you needed?"
"I miss him too," Harry whispered, making Hermione struggle not to roll her eyes in his face. She did NOT miss Ronald Bilius Weasley in the slightest. They'd refused to speak his name since he had left.
As her pregnancy progressed, Pippa continued coming and going to care for Hermione. The potions and food she brought had helped keep them from starvation, and Harry never questioned when she pulled some food item out of her bottomless bag.
While elves had limited healing powers, Pippa also tracked the pregnancy since Hermione couldn't be seen by a healer. Thankfully, the pregnancy has been uncomplicated thus far.
Hermione wanted to be surprised that neither Harry nor Ron had figured out something was happening to her. As the weeks passed, both her travel companions remained oblivious to her condition. After Ron had left a month ago, Harry became even more distracted and noticed even less about her.
"I think we need to go to Godric's Hollow," Harry said, making Hermione look up in disbelief. "It's where my parents were killed, where he died the first time, and where Dumbledore is from. I feel like that's where we need to go next."
"I don't think it's a good idea, Harry. He'll be expecting you to go there." She'd tried to reason with Harry far longer than she cared to admit. He was being frustratingly obstinate.
"We don't have any other leads. We need to do something, " Harry argued, using the same argument since Ron had left.
Knowing that Harry would continue, and since they didn't have any other leads, Hermione conceded. "Fine, but we use Polyjuice and the invisibility cloak when we go. We aren’t going to show up in a wizarding village as ourselves."
Hermione had already confirmed with Pippa that Polyjuice didn't have any adverse effects on a developing baby. That was, as long as she Polyjuiced into another woman, the results of Polyjuicing into a man were fatal to a developing baby. "We'll make a plan, and then we can go."
Her dismissal and skepticism were clear in her voice. Realizing that she’d begun to agree to his plan, Harry took his leave before she could change her mind.
You could have everything you have ever dreamed of: your baby, your wizard, and his lover; more children, both of their devotion; and all the wealth and treasures of the Nott and Malfoy families. With Lord Voldemort by your side, all your dreams can come true.
Hermione sighed and shoved down the deep longing that these words elicited. She just needed to focus on surviving.
ooo
The sound of snow crunching outside jolted Hermione. Harry, she thought, remembering the disastrous events just a few hours before—Nagini in Bathilda Bagshot’s body. Voldemort appeared suitable as they were Disappearing—all on bloody Christmas.
Hermione slowly pulled herself out of bed, wrapping a coat around her. At twenty-three weeks pregnant, she assumed there would be more of a bulge in her belly. However, there wasn’t much of anything protruding from her abdomen that she couldn’t easily conceal with her winter clothing, leaving Harry none the wiser about her condition. If he knew, he’d send her home, and then that would leave him alone…
Maybe not so alone.
"Where's my wand, Harry?” Hermione demanded as she exited the tent, her eyes landing on a sheepish-looking Ronald Weasley. “Give me my wand back!" Hermione's pregnancy hormones were raging. The idiot duo, she thought scathingly, were back, and they were both soaking wet. It figures. Hermione could see the water dripping off them as they stood outside the tent.
"We destroyed the Horcrux, 'Mione said. It's gone; we have the sword of Gryffindor," Harry, or maybe it was Ron, said. Both boys were soaking wet and shivering.
"Why do you have Mione's wand, anyway, Harry? Do you need a wand? I have extras." Hermione didn't wait around to listen to the rest of the conversation. She stormed away from the dumb boys, who shrugged at each other over her sudden departure.
Back in the tent, Pippa appeared. "Does Missy need a calming draught?" she asked after looking Hermione over and making sure that she wasn't injured at all.
"If you have one, yes, please," Hermione fumed, leaving the tent's main area and entering the small bedroom that she had claimed for herself.
Laying down on her side, Hermione rubbed the slight bulge that had begun forming on her abdomen. “Should I be worried that I’m not showing more?” she asked, traced small circles, and was rewarded by the tiny kicks and flutters that let her know she was never alone.
“Oh no, Missy. Baby Nott is growing just fine, perhaps just on the smaller side. First, babies can be so small, especially since Missy is still so young,” Pippa replied, walking over to where Hermione was lying, gently rubbing her hands, and humming to herself as she worked. “Oh yes, Pippa can tell that the baby is very happy and strong. Much magic is protecting this little one.”
Pippa dug around and found the small burlap sack she’d left with Hermione many months earlier. She pulled out a bottle of infused oil and massaged Hermione’s swollen feet and legs. "Missy Mia needs help to relax; Missy went on a dangerous trip with Harry Potter. Pippa couldn't come to help Mistress when she was in trouble, or she would be giving away family secrets. Please promise Pippa that Missy Mia won't go somewhere dangerous again. Pippa can't help Missy find out where others can see Pippa."
Humming to herself, Pippa's soft voice was lulling Hermione into a sleep. Suddenly, Pippa's hands stopped moving, and a sob ripped from her. "Pippa? Pippa, what's wrong?" Hermione asked, sitting up, concerned for the little elf before her.
"Master… Master Theo. Pippa must go." Her large eyes looked up at Hermione as she popped out of existence.
"Pippa? Pippa?" Hermione called out into the empty room. "Theo!" Hermione called out, jumping from her bed, not caring if Harry or Ron heard her. She ran to where her beaded bag was lying, yanking out her copy of Language of Flower and her coin to send him a message.
29.12, safety. 12.6, secret love. 13.2, live for me.
Whatever had sent Pippa straight to Theo's side was bad. When no answer came, Hermione's resolve to stay strong crumbled like a sandcastle in the tide. The tears she'd tried holding back hit her in full force, shaking her body with overwhelming despair.
"Hermione, are you alright?" Harry's voice broke through the room as he entered through the flap. Hermione couldn't answer, so she threw her arms around his neck. Her tears soaked through his jumper as he sat on the edge of her bed, holding her.
Upon seeing her state, he summoned the teapot and a cup from the kitchen. He made tea just the way she liked it, with a spoonful of honey and a splash of milk. Holding the warm cup, she thanked Harry for his thoughtfulness and siped.
"It's not a problem. Just Ron's back now. Everything's okay. We will be able to finish this." Of course, he thought she was upset over Ron. If nothing else, his cluelessness was convenient.
"You're right; I think I just need a good night's sleep," Hermione replied, wiping her eyes and cheek with her sleeve.
Satisfied with her answer, Harry gave her a small smile and squeezed her shoulder. He walked out, leaving Hermione by herself. Rolling back to her side, still clutching her coin, Hermione cried herself to sleep. But sleep only brought nightmares of the possibilities of what was happening to Theo with his father’s maniacally laughing, snarling face in the background. “ Your mudblood whore is next!” echoing through her mind.