Library Assignment

A/N: So, this was originally going to be a Oneshot, but it was requested that I continue it from Hermione's point of view. There will be at least one more chapter, if not more. Maybe. Let me know what you think...

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Hermione stared up at the ceiling of her four poster, unable to sleep without the image of Malfoy consuming her. In fact, all her thoughts were consumed by him. Asleep, or awake. She shuddered again, just thinking about it.

He had raped her. He had held her down and forced himself inside her. She could remember how he had bitten her, pretending that she had liked it. In the beginning, she had. She had thought that they would snog, maybe pet a bit, but then he got rough. Then he no longer cared for her pleasure, ensuring her pain.

She could remember the look in his eyes as he deposited her on the floor. It had been two weeks, and she had blamed studying for her poor eating habits and the dark circles under her eyes, knowing her friends wouldn’t ask questions with that response.

In all reality, she hadn’t slept more than 30 minutes in the two weeks and her brain was starting to play tricks on her. Even worse, she was a 3 days late on her monthly. And Hermione was nothing if she, and all of her body’s processes, wasn’t punctual. She had delayed going to Madame Pomfrey because that would require an explanation.

When after a week her monthly still hadn’t made its appearance, she made her way to the hospital wing. She knocked on the door of Madame Pomfrey’s office.

“Yes, child?” Madame Pomfrey looked up from her papers.

“I, erm, need to talk to you about something. It’s important.” Madame Pomfrey nodded, the door closing behind Hermione. Hermione sat down, taking a deep breath.

“I think I’m pregnant. My monthly is a week late, and I’ve never been late before.”

“Pregnant, Miss Granger? Okay, well I do have a method that will very quickly confirm whether or not you are pregnant. You’re sure?” Hermione nodded, watching the mediwitch pull out a small piece of parchment and a pin. “I’m going to need your hand, dear. It requires just a few drops of your blood.” Hermione nodded, handing over her hand.

The mediwitch takes hold of Hermione’s finger, pushing the tip of the pin into her skin. Hermione hissed from the pain, watching as four drops of blood landed on the piece of paper. She watched as the blood moved on top of the parchment, finally settling into the form of a cross.

“I’m sorry, dear, but this confirms it, you’re pregnant.”

Tears slide down Hermione’s cheeks, “Is… Is there anything we can do about it? I… I don’t want this baby…”

“Oh, dear. Surely you don’t want to abort the pregnancy? There are other options. Adoption, surely.”

Hermione looked up into Madame Pomfrey’s eyes, “This baby is the product of rape. I would much rather not have the child of the man who raped me walking around.”

The older woman shuddered, “Would you like me to call Albus or Minerva down here? You can talk to them about what you want to do?”

Hermione took a deep breath, “Fine. I will talk to them.”