Unrequited

No copyright infringement is intended. I just worship the characters :)
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When we awoke the following morning, I was rather sore. I\'d never had a sexual workout quite like that before. Hands and other appendages were in places I knew they could go, but had never been. I turned my head from where it was buried in the pillow and stretched. My foot brushed up against something warm and hard. Peeling back the covers, I saw a daintily sleeping Malfoy nearly drowning in not-so-crisp white sheets.

I\'d always thought of him as being stark white, but that\'s not completely accurate. He\'s rather more of a pinkish cream. I, on the other hand, tend to go rather sallow in the winter months. Thus I use a little known charm to, ahem, keep my summer tan intact. A small vanity - one of the few that I permit myself.

I got up and looked at the calendar. It was now the beginning of October. Time for another dose of Contraceptive Potion. I shook my head at the still sleeping blond. And not a moment too soon, I thought. Going into the bathroom, I opened up the medicine cabinet and stared in horror.

The space containing the familiar bottle was gone. Upon realizing this fact, I promptly flipped out.

I went to the linen closet and began pulling out all the extra crap that I kept in there along with the towels. Nothing. Nothing under the sink, nothing in the baskets around the tub. There was nothing.

\"Why would I flip out?\", you may ask, when I could just go downstairs and ask Mme. Pomfrey for another dose. I\'ll tell you. It takes the potion thirty days to brew and I took the last vial of it thirty days ago. You see, I help the mediwitch brew all the household remedies and I only started on a new batch of potions three weeks ago. Fuck. How could I have been so stupid?

I didn\'t trust Muggle methods of contraception because oftentimes they were unreliable and you had to take them too often. Never did I think that I would be so stupid as to not begin the potion after I took the last dose. And there\'s nothing resembling a morning-after draught because the Wizarding population is always on low-ebb. Fuck, fuck fuck. Alright Hermione, calm yourself. There\'s always a chance that you might not begnaegnant. Fucking hell. Why did that potion have to be so fucking precise? The minute it was past its effectiveness, it wore off. Fuck.

I went back into the bedroom and sat down on a wingchair. I took a deep breath and managed to subdue myself into a state of denial. I would know all too soon if it had happened or if I were given a reprieve. But that would mean one thing - then end of the game with Draco. He would be absolutely livid either way I ended it. If I told him the real reason, he\'ll go mad. If I told him it was over and was just a bitch about it, he\'ll go mad. It\'s a real lose-lose situation.

Fuck.
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When I turned over I saw Granger sitting there with her head in her hands. She was still naked and obviously upset. I rolled out of bed and slipped my knickers back on. When I got up I could see beyond her to the shambles of the bathroom. I had no idea what was going on, but it was obviously something important.

\"Finally lost it, Granger?\" Shit. I could\'ve kicked myself the minute those words tumbled out of my mouth.

The look of pure hatred she shot me was frightening. I\'d have been on the receiving end of a very nasty Killing Curse if she\'d have been a Slytherin. \"No, I haven\'t \'lost it\' as you so charmingly phrased it.\"

Those lovely tits of hers quivered as she took a deep breath. \"I\'ve decided that I don\'t want you anymore.\"

That certainly wasn\'t what I expected to come out of her mouth. \"Am I to assume that you\'re *dumping* me?\"

\"You\'ve caught on faster than I thought you would\'ve.\" She got up out of the chair and slid a robe around herself. \"Look Malfoy, we\'ve had our fun. It was splendid while it lasted. But let\'s face it: it\'s just shagging, nothing more.\"

\"It wasn\'t just shagging when you were moaning and leaving claw marks in my back,\" I nearly shouted.

She merely smirked in fair imitation of me. \"Don\'t flatter yourself. You\'re not that good.\" She turned her back on and I grabbed her arm.

\"You snotty little bitch. Who are you to desert me? Me!\" I flung her down onto the carpet. \"You can go fuck yourself, Granger.\"

I grabbed up the rest of my things and slammed out of the room. The gall of her. Dumping me. Who the *hell* does she think she is? I am a Malfoy. She is a no-account little Muggle bitch. She\'ll pay for this, I swear it before Merlin. She will pay.
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Dammit. Why did I have to do that? Now I know he\'ll be plotting some sort of odious revenge. Draco\'s so predictable that way. But he\'s so goddamned sneaky, I haven\'t the faintest idea of how he\'ll get his revenge. Dammit dammit dammit. There\'s nothing for it but to try to get to a doctor. This fucking place since the war has been like a fucking prison. It\'ll be all but impossible to sneak out.

Think, Hermione, think. There\'s got to be a way. No. Oh, no. Don\'t even *think* about going there. He\'ll do nothing but mock you incessantly. I can just hear the sneering baritone now. \'Oh, Miss Granger. Has no one warned you of the dangers of shagging indeterminate little tossers on the backstairs?\' or maybe not implying that I was slutty, merely stupid. \'It\'s what one would expect of heedless little Gryffindors.\' Something of that vile nature.

I can\'t just wait it out though. And even the most sophisticated of Muggle medicine won\'t be able to tell this early. If I go to Madame Pomfrey...well, the tongue lashing I\'d get from her would make me want to commit hara kiri. Somehow, ritual suicide doesn\'t seem at all appetizing to me. I can deal with Snape\'s disdain. I\'ll hate it, but I can deal. Then I can figure out what to do.

I showered and dressed. Too nervous to deal with breakfast, I went straight down to Snape\'s office. Thank Merlin it was a Saturday. I didn\'t have to see Harry or Ron this early. They were both probably sleeping off the excesses of too much butterbeer and pinched firewhiskey. Finding myself all-too-quickly in front of Snape\'s door, I breathed heavily and summoned up the nerve to knock.

Firstly, never knock on Snape\'s door half-heartedly. Secondly, don\'t happen to be a Gryffindor knocking on the aforementioned aperture. Snape yanked the door open with a snarl. \"What is it?\"

\"I need to talk to you, sir.\"

\"Do you really?\" He sneered, very predictably. \"And pray, about what?\"

\"I\'d rather not discuss this out in the corridor.\" I said, pushing past him and into his private office.

He closed the door softly. There was a look of suspicious intrigue on his face. \"Begin.\" Snape inclined his head and leaned against the door as I began the whole sorry tale.

When I finished, there was humour, admiration and faint disgust on his face. \"You mean to tell me...that at the beginning of the Quidditch season, you think you may have gotten pregnant by my star player?\"

I was stunned. I wasn\'t expecting that question. I merely nodded.

\"You Gryffindors...\" he shook his head. \"Well, Miss Granger, I can\'t perform the necessary incantations for a month. So either way, you\'re stuck.\" There was a sort of dark sarcasm tinging his voice.

\"Fuck.\" I muttered gracelessly.

\"Indeed.\"