Unforgettable

A/N – Thanks for the reviews. DawnEB, I’m glad you found that scene humorous. Susan, there are five pregnancies. Can you guess who they are? JTBJAB – Severus to the rescue! Illnevertell – the twins have nobody to blame but themselves for what they’ve done. Eddie The Black Maru – Now that I’ve updated, do you forgive me? Lovethelab – Poor Molly and Arthur were so looking forward to enjoying no children in the home. They are one of the five pregnancies. Thanks a millions to Kathy Rose for beta reading and Larilee for her encouragement.

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Chapter Twelve –

Placing her hand on her stomach, Hermione took a deep breath and said a silent prayer. She’d spent the last hour pondering her fate and the fate of her child. Her child. It was strange – those two words.

She stared at the blue vial and pushed it away. She was resolute, her decision made. She was going to keep the baby.

Hermione would fade from her adopted world as though she had never existed. At least, that is what she was planning on doing. Single parents didn’t exist in the wizarding world. Luckily, she had two weeks to get her affairs in order.

She’d have to find a cheaper flat and a new job. Even though she didn’t doubt her parents would be supportive, there was no way she would burden them with her troubles.

Shaking her head, Hermione patted her flat stomach again and chastised herself for thinking of her child as a trouble.

Things would work out. The Muggle world was larger and more forgiving.

She sipped her butterbeer nervously, tears welling in her eyes.

--

Severus stalked down the lane toward the Leaky Cauldron, still not believing what had just happened. He’d been so distracted, pondering the possibility that Hermione may be pregnant, that he hadn’t seen it coming. Ginerva Weasley had hexed him and Apparated, obviously panicked over the idea of telling her brothers that she was in the family way. He supposed, being the youngest of the Weasley clan and the only girl, she had perfected the Bat-Bogey Hex as a simple line of defense.

He was recovered now, but still didn’t feel well enough to Apparate to Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes. Walking into the Leaky Cauldron, he paused. Even through the smell of smoke and whiskey, he could detect her alluring scent.

It was ironic. Yes, he had a rather large nose. It was one of his finer attributes for it allowed him to identify the subtle essence of various potion ingredients.

But this was different. This was a result of that blasted potion! Pheromones! They were the basic ingredient in a lust potion that enticed one to mate. He was delusional if he thought she actually loved him. Her thoughts had to be a result of the potion. Surely he had been mistaken as to the length and depth of her feelings for him.

Severus glanced around the tavern, his eyes darting wildly around the darkened, smoky room. A cloaked figure in the far corner caught his eye
“Can I get you anything else?” Tom asked the cloaked figure.

“No, thank you, Tom,” Hermione answered as she lifted her nearly full butterbeer up for the bartender’s inspection.

She obviously didn’t love him for she obviously didn’t trust him. He was angry and he lashed out. “Did you have your fill, Miss Granger?” Severus questioned, his inflection frosty and aloof.

Gasping at the sound of his voice, Hermione nearly fell out of her seat. His hand rested on her shoulder, steadying her. “P-professor Snape!”

He sat at the seat across the table, glaring at her. “You said you would take what you would get,” he reminded her suggestively. “Was that all you could take?”

Hermione blushed furiously, unable to look him in the eye.

“A contract is a contract,” he quoted. “I expect for you to honor yours and accompany me back to Hogwarts where you will finish your work on my locket.”

Hermione pushed her hood off and stared at him, her mouth agape.

Taking her silence as agreement, Severus started to stand. “Good. Now that all is agreed, we shall Apparate to Hogsmeade and take up where we left off.”

Standing, she threw Severus an evil glare. “Of all the nerve! You arrogant arse! To assume that I would follow you back to the dungeons and fall into your bed! Thank you for your generous offer, Professor. But I think I’ll pass,” she spat cruelly.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his lap.

Hermione let out a small yelp. His arms were like steel bands around her waist, securing her where she continued to struggle. One of his hands brushed the tender underside of her left breast.

“Why are you running, Hermione?” he growled softly in her ear. “Do you think yourself immune to me? Have you forgotten what I know of your thoughts?”

“That’s the problem with Legilimens,” Hermione countered. “It isn’t exact. You’re a man, Professor. Surely you know women are prone to think or say things in the throes of passion.”

Touché, Severus thought with a smirk. “I didn’t survive being a double-agent all those years without being able to differentiate between falsehoods and truth,” he stated, moving his hand inside her robe and cupping her cloth-covered breast.

“I believe you have genuine feelings for me. Or are you that wanton with all men?” Severus nipped at the love bite on her neck.

As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. He knew how to garner certain reactions out of her. He’d spent close to a decade perfectly his witty quips to wound her. They had become second nature to him, especially when she was around.

Hermione pushed against him with a renewed vigor. “Let me go, Professor Snape,\" she said, her voice reflecting her emotional distance.

He relaxed his hold on her, but didn’t let her go. Letting his breath linger next to her ear, he tried a softer approach. “My apologies, Hermione,” he whispered softly.

“Come back with me,” his velvety voice coaxed her, as he felt her hesitate.

“I c-can’t,” she whispered, twisting out of her lover’s arms.

Letting her stand, Severus focused his gaze on the table. How was he going to ask her if she was pregnant? How was he going to be able to keep her? How –

The midnight blue vial sparkled as Tom lit a candle nearby.

Severus reached for the evidence, dread settling in the pit of his soul. He knew his own work. He brewed all of the potions for Hogwarts. Had she taken the abortion potion? Had she terminated their child?

Hermione’s eyes went wild as he examined the vial.

“Did you take this?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

“I-I,” she stammered, and started sinking to the floor.

Severus sprang from his seat just in time to catch her before she collapsed, the fate of their child unanswered.

--

Pacing the length of the small room he had acquired at the Leaky Cauldron, Severus couldn’t take his eyes off the tip of his wand. It was blue. She was indeed pregnant. He was still unable to ascertain whether or not she’d taken any of the potion, but she was definitely pregnant.

He’d never considered fatherhood and had always meant to have a procedure to ensure he would never have to worry about it. But he’d never gotten around to it. There was just something about allowing Poppy anywhere near his dangly bits that made him shudder.

Now that the prospect of impending fatherhood loomed before him, Severus found himself hopeful. He really hadn’t considered life after the defeat of Voldemort. Teaching imbeciles and dunderheads was not something he intended to do for the rest of his days. He could retire comfortably and live off the royalties of some of the potions he’d developed, but that sounded incredibly boring. Besides, he enjoyed tormenting first years too much to resign his post at Hogwarts.

How did a family figure into his future? It didn’t. He’d never considered having children. He’d never considered consuming the blasted potion at the ball either. But here he was, lusting after her, a woman whose disdain for him had bred contempt for her that ran deep into his soul. Severus had to remind himself that she was not to blame. She was as much a victim in this as he was.

But a child? A powerful, magical child. A sliver of excitement slipped past his resolve.

He guarded his excitement, hoping Hermione hadn’t taken any of the potion. The prospect that his fatherhood was over before it had actually begun moved him.

He never should have Obliviated her. Not only was the Obliviate charm heavily legislated and reserved for Obliviators, it was considered somewhat illegal.

It wasn’t totally illegal, like the Unforgivable Curses, but the Obliviate charm was not to be taken lightly. It was one of the few times in his life that Severus had actually panicked. It was bad enough he’d had sex with an ex-student, much less a member of the Golden Trio, but Hermione had woken up and started casting accusations about as though he was to blame.

She’d never forgive him, of course. Once she discovered his role in her condition, she’d spurn him.

He needed a plan—a plan that would enable him to keep her and claim his child.

Hermione stirred restlessly on the bed and groaned. Severus grabbed the vial and sat next to her, ready to confront her and get the answers he needed.

Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled, her tongue darting out to moisten her bottom lip.

Observing her awakening, Severus tempered his lascivious thoughts and cleared his throat. “Miss Granger,” he murmured, trying to get her attention.

Hermione’s eyes snapped open and she tried sitting up in bed, but Severus prevented her from doing so as he held her shoulder.

“Miss Granger,” he repeated, his question sticking in this throat for fear of her answer. “I need to know how much of this potion you consumed.”

“I – I,” she stammered.

“You fainted,” Severus continued, trying to keep his tone neutral.

Struggling to sit up, Hermione finally succeeded. “I have to go.”

“You’re pregnant,” Severus stated with finality. “At least you were.” He held the vial between them. “Did you take the potion?”

Her eyes focused on the bottle in his hand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied.

Raising his wand, he called her bluff. “Please do not insult my intelligence. Do you honestly think me incapable of recognizing my own work? I can even tell you when I brewed this potion and for what purpose.”

Hermione stared at the evidence on his wand, pushed it away, and moved off the bed. “This is none of your concern, Severus!”

Severus smirked upon hearing his given name. “We were lovers last night. Surely we can be friends today.”

She laughed, her laughter caustic. “Friends? You want to be my friend?”

He nodded. It did sound absurd.

She backed away from him. “I—I have friends. I don’t need any more friends,” she cried. “And now I have to leave them behind! I might as well leave my wand behind too, and –”

Severus stood up and approached her. “What are you talking about?”

Taking a deep shuddering breath, Hermione wiped the errant tears that trickled down her cheeks. “I’m leaving.”

He didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or scoff at her foolishness. She was the brightest witch to ever come out of Hogwarts. He watched as she started pacing.

“I may be able to keep my flat, but I’ll have to find work in London.”

Listening to her prattle on about her haphazard plans, Severus continued maneuvering her toward the nearest wall.

Backed against the wall, Hermione could look nowhere else other than her former professor.

“You’re pregnant,” he stated simply as though missing the gist of the conversation.

Her response was breathless and furious. “I thought we’d already established that I was pregnant.”

The rise and fall of her breasts tempted him and his eyes fell to her chest. “And you’ve convinced yourself that you must leave the wizarding world?”

“Yes,” she hissed in agreement.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know who the father is!” she murmured, a new stream of tears falling down her cheeks. “I won’t subject my child to that kind of ridicule.”

Severus leaned against her, pressing his body suggestively into hers. Inwardly, he sneered. This was too easy. He’d be her savior and that of her unborn child – his child. He’d offer her a façade, his name for an heir and a life of comfort. He’d bind her to him for the rest of his life, taking from her what she so readily offered. He couldn’t have planned this better himself.

He brushed his lips against her cheek. “Marry me.”

*****