Orion

There were three things Hermione was certain of. 

First, she was pregnant and that would completely flip over the plans she had for her final year at Hogwarts and basically her whole career at the Ministry of Magic. 

Second, the boyfriend she had for the last couple of years, Ron Weasley, was definitely not the father as he had been away for at least three weeks before her conception date. 

Third, she had no idea who the father was. No, really. She didn’t even know his name. she had no hopes of ever finding him again, whatsoever. And even if she could, he wouldn’t recognize her.  

Because she had casted glamouring charms on herself before that New Year’s Eve party at a muggle karaoke bar. 

Gods, her child was conceived inside a dirty bathroom. That was so…

“—EMBARRASSING FOR ME!” Ron was shouting once again, this time he had the decency of doing it in private. At least more privately then in the middle of a classroom, they were now in gryffindors common room. 

“Ronald!” She bellowed back “This is not about you”

“Obviously, I wasn’t there when you cheated on me, Hermione!” He roared.

“You broke up with me!” She hissed. 

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake Hermione! It lasted only 3 weeks!” He punched the wall.

“Yes, conveniently around your little Paris trip. Did you not hook up with other girls there?!” She crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Don’t try to turn this on me! I didn’t knock anyone up!” Ron kicked an armour. 

“I DIDN’T DO THIS ON PURPOSE, RONALD” Hermione was bawling now. “Don’t you see how this— affects— oh, Gods”

At the break of her voice, Ginny and Harry, who had been watching the scene from a safe distance, intervened as quickly as possible. Ginny embraced Hermione while her boyfriend stood in front of Ron. 

“C'mon mate, that’s enough”

“Mione, you shouldn’t be this distressed”

“How can I not be stressed Ginny?? Look what’s become of me!” Hermione sobbed amidst the fiery hair. 

“IT’S OVER, HERMIONE. IT’S BLOODY OVER!” Ron screamed over Harry’s head. “I’M NOT CARRYING ANOTHER MAN’S TROUBLE!”

…

Hermione spent the night crying and vomiting with her Ginny, Padma, Parvati and Lavender tending to her. 

“Don’t you have any idea of who the father is?” Parvati asked while combing her hair after the third shower of the evening. 

“N-no, I didn’t know him!” She’d sob and explain over and over again. 

“But where did you guys—“ Ginny gave a try, scourgifying the trash bin for the fifth time. 

“In a muggle bar!”

“Maybe you could go there, try to see if he’s there or if anyone knows who he—“

“Lav, I can’t, ok? He wouldn’t even recognize me! I thought it’d be fun to cast some glamouring spells and look different for a night! I gave him a fake name, how would I explain all that to a muggle?”

“Well, the Statute of Secrecy does not apply for family members, Hermione” Padma explained “If he’s the father of a magical child then he must kn—“

“Padma! I’m not family with this stranger. I don’t know if I want him in my life. He could be super weird, toxic or a loser! Right now the baby is enough of addition.”

“But you can’t do this alone, Mione!” Ginny gasped “raising a child is hard work, not to mention expensive”

“Really? I had no idea, Ginny” Hermione sighed sarcastically. 

Thankfully her friends knew her situation was bad so none of them complained about her sour mood. she cried some more before finally falling asleep. 

…

A week went by and Hermione now could rarely stay a day without crying. She’d like to blame her hormones, as she was never one to cry much before, but the fact was that being imposed a lifelong responsibility all of sudden was as nerve wracking as it went. 

She felt all those symptoms. Nausea, headaches, fatigue, emotional lability, sore breasts, cramps… Madam Pomfrey had explained that magical pregnancies were a lot more difficult than normal pregnancies. Because the mom’s and the baby's magic were basically fighting esch other. So those symptoms were a good sign, Hermione would probably not give birth to a squib. 

It was very hard for her, however, to find comfort, solace or happiness in the middle of this storm. She hadn’t told her parents yet. She thought she’d just appear with her belly after school ended, and then explain. It wouldn’t be more surprising then revealing that she’d spent 3 weeks petrified during 2nd year. Right?

Her friends were always there for her. But between Ginny and Parvati looking at her like she had terminal cancer and Lavender and Padma talking about the baby like it was a blessed angel coming to bring joy in their lives… Hermione just couldn’t bear it anymore. 

And finally, there was the bullying. Her mom told her that people were jealous of her when she came home crying after first year, because everyone called her toothy, bushy haired, insufferable know-it-all, mudblood and all sorts of things. She didn’t believe it then, but it was almost believable now. Because why else would people, specially girls, seem so happy with the fact that her life was basically over? She would hear catcalls, whistles, name calling, provocations of all kinds everywhere. 

“So what’s the plan, Granger? Working under Filch or Hagrid to support your baby?”

“Whore”

“I knew King Weasley deserved someone better”

“Cheater”

“Hogwarts dropout”

“Doesn’t she know about contraceptive charms?”

“Stupid baby mama”

“It’s probably the muggle blood, makes them act like bitches on heat or something”

“Damaged goods”

“This is what you get when you’re a slut”

“That baby is going to be a pig coming out of a mudblood”

The teachers would do their best to prevent the outbursts, but the majority of them looked at her judginly or pityingly too. 

She just couldn’t bear the fact that she felt bad every single hour of every single day.  The physical symptoms, the raw reality of her condition, the bullying, the uncertainty about the future, the isolation… It was all getting on her mind. She didn’t really see her baby as a problem, a burden or a parasite. She knew it was innocent. She was the one to blame. She was not giving herself or the baby the best chance in life. And she started to hate herself for that. Hermione was getting depressed. Quickly. 

…

Everything changed when, by the beginning of April, she felt baby kicks. She waved them off as probably gas or something at first. But when they continued for several days and when she was able to see the baby moving her wand placed on top of her barely swelling belly one night at her dorm… She knew that the baby was moving. 

It brought her comfort. 

She started to find herself caressing the little bum nearly all the time. She was reading a lot about pregnancy and childcare and decided to do it out loud. She realised the baby loved it. So she began to read everything out loud - even her textbooks and homeworks. 

Lavender and Padma declared themselves godmothers and were buying her all sorts of stuff, getting her to eat properly and researching for potions to ease her symptoms. Lavender, who loved divination, started to research the baby’s future and declared that it was a boy. Padma, more reasonable, decided she’d rent a flat in London for her and Hermione. She wanted to study healing at st mungus and Hermione would get her internship at the ministry. She went as far as applying for childcare for employees in both places to guarantee Hermione wouldn’t miss out because of the motherhood. 

Ginny told Mrs Weasley, who wrote Hermione a really long, loving and maternal letter saying that babies were blessings despite the hard times when they came. She gave Hermione lots of knitted booties, hats, cardigans and onesies. Parvati would play classical music every night in their dorm because it was good for the baby’s brain. 

Harry and Dean were being as supportive as seventeen year boys could be, Dean told her about how his own mother had him at the age of seventeen and he turned out fine. Harry bought Hermione’s kid a miniature broom.

“Harry! He won’t be using it for years!”

“Sirius gave me one when I was one year old, Mione”

It almost made up for the fact that Ron Weasley, former best friend and ex boyfriend, not only ignored her completely but also used the sad cheated boy excuse to get every girl he could find in Hogwarts to shag him. Prat. Hermione was relieved that he was not the father. She’d do a much better job alone. 

At least she thought so. Being an only child without cousins, Hermione never watched a baby being cared for. She had no idea what to do. It sounded easy enough: birth, feed, clean and keep alive. But she knew it must be very harder than its principles. 

And there was also the aspect of turning that baby into a decent person. She could never forgive herself if her daughter grew to be as obnoxious as, say, Pansy Parkinson - who was the worst of all offending Hermione daily.  But then again, Hermione was pureblooded and awfully rich, so she thought maybe there wasn’t a big chance of that happening.  

…

On the last weekend before Easter Holliday, which Hermione would be spending with the Patil family since Ronald (despite Ginny, Harry and Molly’s protests)  revoked her invitation to the Burrow, there was a quidditch game happening at Hogwarts. 

It was Slytherin versus Gryffindor, a classic that brought students from all houses to the pitch. Hermione found herself LOVING the quiet and empty castle. She decided to enjoy it in the library, which was no longer safe for her to study without drawing too much attention. She had been there for almost 20 minutes, when Madam Pomfrey entered the room. 

“Oh, there you are, Miss Granger! I was looking for you”

“Hi, Madam Pomfrey! Is everything alright?” Hermione asked politely. 

“Yes yes, my dear. For now at least, you know how this barbaric game always ends right? I need to be at the hospital wing as quickly as possible” the old witch babbled making her way towards where Hermione was sitting. “You see, Healer Flint is here today to watch her son play and I just ran into her at this moment. She’s a very accomplished - and rather famous -  obstetric healer, so I asked her if she could - er- take a look at you and your baby—“

“Why? Is there something wrong? Hermione’s hand flew instinctively to her belly. She didn’t want to get pregnant but now she wanted nothing less than to keep her child. 

“Oh no, no, dear” Pomfrey waved dismissively. “I’ve been checking you weekly, you know that everything is just fine. But I’m afraid I’m not trained in the most sophisticated obstetric monitoring spells, Healer Flint is a very high requested healer, you know. It’ll be an honor for you to get checked by her. I hear there are year long lines amidst the ancient houses and…”

“And she’s willing to check me?” Hermione was incredulous. Marcus Flint looked all the way blood purist so why would his mother even want to touch her?  

“Yes yes! I asked her to teach me so I can keep monitoring you, while you’re at school. But we need a teaching subject” Pomfrey giggled. “Shall we?”

Hermione wanted to say ‘no’. But Pomfrey’s eyes were glittering with anticipation and she thought it might be nice to see her baby. So she said yes. 

… 

Healer Flint was a tall and lean witch, in her mid fifties, with sharp features and thick eyebrows over her oval shaped glasses. She was wearing black robes, clearly not expecting to be examining a patient that day. Hermione felt embarrassed. 

“H-hi”

“Poppy, so this is the witch you’ve told me about?” Healer Flint all but ignored Hermione while gesturing for her to lay over a bed.

“Yes yes, this is Hermione Granger. She’s a very bright witch—“

“Indeed” Flint cut off, in q clear demonstration that she didn’t believe bright witches would be single moms at the age of eighteen. “So, how far along are you, child?”

“Sixteen weeks since yesterday” Hermione answered, avoiding the piercing gaze of those beetle black eyes. 

Flint hummed, casting an intricate spell over Hermione, talking quickly to Pomfrey as she explained every step, incantation and wand movement.

“So this” she gestured to the multiple lines above Hermione’s belly “is the baby’s heartbeat, this is the placenta’s pulse, this is the mother heartbeat,”

“Oh, incredible!” Pomfrey clapped. 

She went on pointing to baby blood levels, mother blood levels, baby’s emotional pattern, mother emotional levels… Hermione did her best to memorize everything but it was too much and she was starting to feel dizzy. 

“And when we do this” she explained, moving her wand and casting several long and complicated spells “we can see the baby’s magic levels. So, Mother,” The Healer addressed Hermione “what can you tell us about the father?”

“Uhm- er-“ Hermione blushed “he’s not, well… I don’t — You see, he’s not a wizard”

The last thing Hermione expected to happen was for Flint to start chuckling as she did. 

“Don’t be silly now, child, if you don’t want to share his identity it’s quite alright. But there is no denying that he is a wizard”

“What?” Hermione gasped. 

“How can you see it?” Pomfrey asked in a curious trance. 

“Well, these are the baby magical levels.” Flint gestured to the baby “When they’re still in the womb, the mother’s magic represses its effect on the baby. It's nature's way of protecting the baby as it would be too much for the little body to deal with. So the magic of the mother is suppressed by a powerful natural charm until the age of 6-7. But the father’s magic, well it has a different signature, you know? And it is not suppressed during pregnancy. Which is why magical pregnancies are harder when the father is a wizard. The father’s magic is resisting the mother’s suppression and all the symptoms appear. Those children usually have magical outbursts earlier too…”

“What about muggleborns, where does our magic come from if it is genetic?” Hermione asked. 

“That’s not my line of work” Flint gave her a cold glare that showed Hermione she had no interest in studying Muggleborns. “Anyway” she turned back politely to Pomfrey “this child has too high levels of magic not to have a magical father”

“Fascinating” Pomfrey exclaimed. 

Horrifying. Hermione thought to herself. 

“Now, would you consent to me seeing the baby’s magical signature?” Flint asked coldly to Hermione. It seemed like it was a requirement to do so, and not because she wanted to make Hermione feel respected. 

“Y-yes”

“Alright” Flint began casting several spells and now Hermione didn’t even bother to try and catch up. 

Her mind was reeling. The muggle was not a muggle? Who was he then? She didn’t remember much about the encounter. He said he was studying something. That he lived somewhere. She was sure she’d know if he was a wizard. Gods, the wizarding world was too small for her not to end up meeting this man eventually.  Would she be able to recognize him? Yes, definitely. His face was engraved in her memory, his voice, his touch…

“Oh, that’s odd!” Flint said abruptly as a glowing green orb appeared in front of them. It looked like a realistic depiction of the sun, with a fiery surface and pulsating madly. Hermione wondered if those lines were really runes like they appeared to be. “Miss… What’s your name again, child?”

Hermione’s face jumped to the healer, finding there a mist of shock and suspicion. 

“Granger, Madam”

“Miss Granger, I must admit I haven’t seen a magical signature like your child’s in many years and I would remember it as it looks just like the magical signature of…”

“HEALER FLINT!” A loud shriek came from the entrance to the infirmary. “Thank goodness you’re here! He’s hurt, my boy, my son”

Madam Pomfrey was there in seconds, hurrying after the platinum haired beautiful Sitch  to get the unconscious body dressed in green that came in levitating by a spell out of Lucius Malfoy’s wand. 

Adrien Pucey and Lucian Pole were carrying his broom in two pieces. The Slytherin Quidditch Team captain Marcus Flint screamed at his mother:

“Mom, it’s Draco! That fucking She Weasel saw he was in front of Potter after the snitch and fucking threw a bludger on his head. He fell more than 60 feet.”

Madam Pomfrey had them all moving aside so she could cast several spells, give him lots of potions and stabilize his vitals. Narcisa wept on Lucius’ chest and the three slytherins all waited, clenching their helmets and gloves

Hermione had never seen the three slytherins so worried. They usually looked smug or angry. Now they seemed really vulnerable and sad. She wondered if it was because they’d been playing with Malfoy for over six years (the trio hadn’t completed their NEWTS and were held back that year). Or maybe it was because slytherin was almost winning for the first time in six years. 

However, Healer Flint wasn’t doing much. She went over to the Malfoy couple, comforted them and helped Pomfrey a bit. But she kept glancing back and forth between Draco and Hermione. As if judging Hermione for looking at the awful scene or something. But that was her problem. Pomfrey hadn’t placed a curtain and Hermione might as well watch.

Or maybe she should leave. It seemed too personal. 

After almost 30 minutes of Madam Pomfrey in a frantic non stop work, Hermione figured she really should leave and give Malfoy his privacy. Not that she could see much from where she stood, but any how.

“WAIT!” Healer Flint shouted when she saw Hermione throwing her legs to the side of the bed and elevating her torso to sit. 

All the snakes, both young and old, glanced at her direction for the first time. The five of them scowled with disgust. Hermione figured Draco would’ve done the same if he was awake. 

“Miss Granger, do you mind if I finish your examination?” Flint asked with a fondly tone that was yet unknown. “Maybe we could try to get a blood magic profile next. It’s too early for a coloured womb photograph anyway… But with the blood magic profile mixed with a little bit of imagination we could see what your baby will look like?”

“Really, Thalia? A mudblood baby is more important than my Draco? you’ve known him since—“ Narcissa began in a sobbed squeak. 

“Narcissa, my dear! Madam Pomfrey is doing a wonderful job, he’s already stabilized and she’s just going to heal his bones. I assure you, that the mud— er, muggleborn… Well, halfblood baby is going to be of interest for us all”

That got the attention from everyone, except Draco of course, in the room. Even Madam Pomfrey looked up. 

“M-my baby? Why would—“ Hermione began, but trailed off as Healer Flint approached with a menacing smile she probably meant to look nice “wait, is this blood magic thing safe?”

“Oh, very much. I would never risk this baby’s wellbeing” 

Hermione noticed she didn’t say anything about Hermione’s wellbeing. 

“Oh- er, well… I guess then, it’s okay” Hermione stuttered but the old witch was already casting her spells. 

Narcissa looked away with her nose held up, highly scoffing at Flint’s words. But Lucius eyed the scene suspiciously. Madam Pomfrey continued her work but kept glancing at them now and then. 

“Oh, my sweet Salazar!” Flint gasped, bringing her hand to her chest, when several green glittering lines began to snake over Hermione’s belly forming runic inscriptions she could not read. “Oh this is surprising”

“What?” Hermione asked worriedly. 

“What is it, Thalia?” Pomfrey came running to Hermione’s bed. 

“Oh, gods! What about my Draco?” Narcissa whined. 

“He’s fine Mrs Malfoy, now he just needs rest” Pomfrey dismissed watching with intent as Flint moved her wand over Hermione’s belly making the runes shiver and dance. 

“Humpf” Narcissa disapproved sitting at her son’s side and caressing his cheek. “Lucius?!”

Her husband had been walking towards Hermione’s bed with a puzzled expression. 

“Is this…?” He began.

“Just a minute, Mr Malfoy” Flint asked, waving her hand with great effort, her forehead glistening with sweat. “I’m trying a very complicated spell here”

“But why?” Lucius drawled and Hermione hated to agree with him. 

Marcus and the other two slytherins had approached too, now checking at the green powdered smoke rising from the runes in Hermione’s belly.

“Fetus revelius” Flint chanted loudly. 

Soon enough the smoke began to thicken and join together like waves, ever tighter and tighter until they were a massive ball slowly morphing into a humanoid little figure. 

“OH GODRIC” Hermione screamed. 

In front of her eyes, she saw a very clear miniature of what could only be a five year old version of Draco Malfoy. 

Pomfrey gasped, raising both her hands to cover her mouth. Lucius seemed ready to vomit, his pale skin very close to green. All the snakes gaped at Hermione with their mouths opened in awe, clearly unaware of what exactly did that thing in front of them mean. 

“This is very rudimentary of course, because it only counts for the father’s blood magic that is still traceable. The child might inherit some of the mothers features as well” Flint clapped her hands with the excitement Hermione knew to happen when a puzzle or intellectual challenge was solved. 

But it was clearly the wrong sentiment to have on such an occasion. Which was evident by the tone in Narcissa Malfoy’s voice when she snapped from where she stood. 

“Can someone explain what is a baby Draco doing inside the mudblood’s womb?”

Hermione now could only wish she was as unconscious as Malfoy was.