Repercussions

And I can't breathe without you here
For fear I'll catch your scent.
And we both know how bad I get.
I don't do well or dwell in change.
And don't you know that
Three small words could make this all okay?
-Just Surrender


Late into the night, Hermione stumbled blindly back to her bedroom, the smell of sick invading her nostrils. She was shaking and hiccoughing slightly, but finally out of tears, which was lucky really, since the rims of her eyes were so swelled and red the remnants of the salty drops left a burning, stinging sensation against her raw flesh.

Her whole body ached as she crawled between the sheets that were in a state of disarray from the night’s activities. Thinking about it caused yet another sniffle, the sickly vile smell making her nose crinkle in disgust. It wasn’t caused by one of her bouts of ‘morning sickness,’ it was from something deeper, something that wrenched her heart from behind her breast and tried to evacuate it forcefully, before the excruciating pain it was radiating became unbearable. She had never in her life wretched like that, like it was the last thing she would ever do.

She had brushed her teeth after of course, but the scent still lingered and so did the horrible burn of her esophagus. It left her feeling like a pile of mush, with a mushy brain wondering vaguely how her jellied legs had made it to the bed.

Her eyes were closed before her head hit the pillow, but the crinkle of crisp parchment alerted her to the presence of more than just the soft pillowcase. Not feeling the strength to do more than lift her head ever so slightly, she reached a trembling hand up to remove the offending paper from underneath her.

There it was. The note that had made her heart skip a beat not even twenty-four hours before, now made her cringe in anger and hurt. Her sweaty fingers smudged the ink, ruining it. No, Draco ruined it. Draco ruined it because it was all a lie, a front of a decent human being, nothing more.

She sat up in the bed, the anger serving as a second source of energy. The parchment now crumbled into a little ball in her fist, her knuckles white from the effort. Surprisingly she felt a little better. If Draco thought a recycled note was enough to cover up the fact that he had the emotional capacity of an acorn shell, and that he couldn’t manage to say three little words, he was sorely mistaken. He could make love to her, but he couldn’t tell her he loved her? It made no sense. No, what really didn’t make sense was how she had let him do that to her, when deep down she had to have known that it wasn’t real. He was Draco Malfoy. He was her enemy. He was a liar.

She unfurled the paper that had caused such a vast range of emotions in so little time, only to briskly rip it in two unequal pieces. She took them to the bathroom, and after a few more heartfelt tears, she was left with only a small pile of paper shreddings that were no longer recognizable as anything to do with the Head Boy. She threw them into the air, watching them with wide blank eyes in the large mirror, as they floated like snowflakes to the floor around her feet.

Back in her bed, the heavy blankets tucked securely around her tired form, the brief satisfaction was quickly ebbing away into sadness. Without the letter she had nothing to remind her of her and Draco’s time together, and while that fact should have made her feel contented, in actuality it did quite the opposite. It was like a souvenir. Without it she was more likely to forget, so why didn’t she feel better now? Why did she feel like she had torn out her heart all over again?

Some time later, she wasn’t sure exactly how long, but it couldn’t have been too long because it was still pitch black outside, she had managed to convert her sadness back into anger. Anger was much easier to deal with. It was all his fault. He was the one who had charmed his way into her pants, and made her believe he had been sincere. And he had been a very good actor. He had made her feel things that she never imagined one could feel from such a taboo act. She knew that she should have been smarter and not fallen for it, but he shouldn’t have been such an asshole. So that was how she concluded that it was all his fault, and she was livid.

And so she fell asleep grinding her teeth, and woke up with the inevitable headache, her jaw clenched and her lips set in a scowl even before a thought of Draco Malfoy had a chance to cross her mind.

Hermione Granger was pissed.


***

Draco woke up that morning not feeling much of anything. Surprisingly, he wasn’t even all that upset by the previous night’s events anymore. That was, until, he walked into the bathroom and felt crumbled paper underneath his bare feet. He recognized it in an instant as the note he wrote to Hermione. Suddenly a wave of emotions hit him hard, threatening to knock him off balance. The ‘incident’ was not going to be forgotten like he had hoped.

Maybe he should have told her the truth about what Pansy was making him do, instead of not saying anything when she had told him how she felt. At the time it didn’t seem like a good idea. Draco’s experience in the bedroom had taught him many things, one of which was ‘never mention a former lover when the new one’s naked underneath you.’ He imagined a lot of ‘lying wanker’ insults mixed in with some frantic swipes at the jewels. He had to do something though. His little letter definitely hadn’t gotten through to her. It seemed as if Hermione did not like his note. Actually, it was quite obvious that she hated it.

He was hurt. No, he was angry. Angry at himself for loving her. Angry at the world because he couldn’t love her. But mostly, he was angry with Hermione, because she just didn’t get it.


After the most horrible day of classes in the history of shitty classes, Draco decided he couldn’t wait for Pansy to cave to her whore instincts. It was time to take matters into his own hands. He found Blaise right after the last bell, and motioned for him to follow into an empty classroom.

“Is it true you’re dating Pansy?” Blaise immediately asked, trying and failing to hide the disgust from his voice.

Draco opened his mouth to tell Blaise ‘Fuck no she blackmailed me into it and it’s all a sham,’ but what actually came out was a simple “Yes.” Blaise’s eyes widened in shock, and Draco immediately opened his mouth to rectify his words, but no sound was heard. No matter how hard he thought the truth in his mind, he just couldn’t verbalize it.

“Give me a quill,” he ordered his dark friend. Blaise looked even more confused at this point, but did as he was asked. Draco snatched the self-inking quill from Blaise’s hand, scrambled to pull a spare scrap of parchment from his bag, and hurriedly attempted to write ‘I am not dating Pansy, you fuckwit!’ He handed the paper to Blaise, waiting for the news to sink in so Zabini could help him take Pansy down.

“I don’t get it, what happened to Granger?” was all Blaise had to say. Scowling, Draco took back the parchment.

“Do I have to fucking spell it out for you!?” he sneered, brandishing the note in his friend’s face. “I – AM – DATING – PANSY – YOU – FUCKWIT!” he paused, taking in what he said, and how he had read word for word from the paper he wrote. “Fucking bloody Hell!” he groaned, ripping the useless parchment down he middle and tossing it to the ground. He could see why the gesture was so appealing to Granger, it was oddly satisfying being destructive.

Draco’s mouth and hand continued to refuse to cooperate, no matter how much he swore and threatened. He even tried to write “I’m lying,” on a desktop, but the quill either wouldn’t move or the ink wouldn’t disperse.

It was a seriously unexpected setback. He was counting on at least having Blaise on his side. Somehow it had never occurred to him that pretending to be dating Pansy would mean he would have to pretend to everyone. He just thought it would go around the school, and he would play along, but that he would have a close personal circle to confide in. What about Hermione? If he couldn’t at least tell her about the binding spell, there was no way in hell she was going to forgive him. Especially once she found out what else he had done…

He had underestimated the severity of the charm. A lot. Once he read all that ‘words and actions’ bullocks, he stopped thinking of the charm as the end of the road, and more like a loud, screechy, puggy pothole. Yes, he was completely fuming mad at the fact that he hadn’t been able to outsmart Pansy ‘Dumb-Fuck’ Parkinson completely, and because he hadn’t managed to avoid Hermione until he dealt with the P.D.F.P situation. Still, now that he was away from both women and he’d had a chance to clear his head a bit, he’d regained some hope. There had to be something he could do.

“I need a favor,” he started, relieved that what he meant to say was actually what came out. Blaise nodded the go-ahead, staring at his best mate like he was an escaped loony bird.

‘I need you to go snog Pansy.’

“I need to- no. Fuck! I need y-yuh- yearg! Fuck! I need to snog- BLOODY FUCKING SHIT!” he shouted, slamming his fist down on the teacher’s desk so hard that dust rained down on them from the ceiling and walls. He was breathing hard, almost sweating even. ‘Disgusting!’ His face was flushed and he felt like he had no control. Malfoy’s were always in control damn it! He tried to calm himself. He just wasn’t concentrating enough because all he could think about was Pansy’s smug pug face since she had gotten her way. ‘Concentrate… you can do this…’ Blaise was his friend, he was intelligent, and he would get Draco out of this mess.

‘I just need you to snog Pansy a little, no questions asked.’

“I just need Pansy- YICK! FUCK! I just need a snog-ARGG! Fucking fuck shit! You have to make out with me-EEK- What the fuck was THAT!? FUCK!”

It wasn’t working. He supposed a real ‘boyfriend’ wouldn’t tell their best mate’s to snog their girl, no matter how revolting they may be. Fucking words! Draco was losing the battle -- to himself no less.

‘Well I couldn’t have chosen a more worthy and handsome man to go down to…’ he shrugged; a last sentiment of the captain on his sinking ship. He tried to put on the impassive face to mimic his friend, becoming slightly embarrassed by his uncharacteristic and insane outbursts. He didn’t want to lose though. He had already lost to Pansy once, and that was more than enough. He needed to end it now, and on his terms. He tugged at the ring on his finger. It didn’t budge a hair. One more fleeting moment of insanity couldn’t hurt…

“The ring, Blaise, look at the ring!” he yelled, sticking his hand right in Blaise’s face, so he was sure not to miss the gaudy article. Breathing hard, he chanced a glance at his dark friend, who looked seriously appalled, and maybe a teensy bit concerned at the show Draco was putting on.

“Ok mate, it’s a man ring. It’s erm… nice,” Blaise replied calmly, in his deep and annoyingly superior tone.

“Fuck.” Draco spat under his breath.

“Shit.” He kicked over a chair.

“Bitch ass cunt!” He hopped on one foot, nursing his bruised toe.

“Merlin’s rotting fucking pussy!” He stalked around the room, lashing out at any of the wooden furniture that dared cross his path. “Shit. Fuck. Whore. Prick. Fuck…”

Finally, when he was satisfied that Filch would be cursing his beloved cat before he had repaired the extensive damage, Draco stopped and inspected his handiwork. Not a desk or chair lay unturned. The only thing left standing in the room, beside himself, was Blaise, who seemed to be stunned speechless, and on the verge of joining the furnishings on the floor. Maybe Draco had gone a little overboard…

Feeling foolish again, he straightened his robes, and plastered the most dignified scowl he could muster up on his flushed face.

“Not a word Zabini,” he spoke seriously, pointing to the wreckage. Without waiting for a response he spun on the spot and headed for the door, trying to make his robes billow out behind him for dramatic effect. The bottom edge caught on a stray nail and he stumbled over his feet before the fabric ripped and set him free. “Fucking bullshit!” Not exactly the Snape-like exit he was going for.

***

Hermione was equally unsuccessful at her own mission, to rid Draco from her thoughts. It had been over two weeks since ‘it’ happened. Two weeks since Draco had touched her, spoke to her, or even looked in her direction. Two weeks of running on autopilot, of hollow laughs and forced conversations. Two weeks keeping everything brewing dangerously close to the surface, and Hermione was starting to lose it. Between hiding her ever blossoming belly and the way her heart panged with every blonde head of hair that came her way, something had to give. She was kidding herself if she though she could keep up the charade of normality forever.

Ron and Harry hadn’t noticed that her smiles no longer reached her eyes, but Ginny was definitely acting different towards her. She wasn’t being mean, but she wasn’t her usual talkative self either. She was actually quite polite, too polite almost. That wasn’t what was most unnerving though, it was the fact that Ginny was always looking at her. And since Hermione tried to spend as little time as possible in her own common room, to avoid the man who wouldn’t look at her, she seemed to be living in the limelight of Ginevra Weasley.

Still, somehow Hermione continued to go through the motions of life, not letting Ginny’s strange behavior distress her. With everything that had happened, Malfoy hit the hardest. She hated to admit it, but she knew it was true. He seemed to have moved on, though he looked about as happy as she felt. Rumor had it that he and Pansy Parkinson were an item, so it was no wonder he appeared so miserable.

‘They deserve each other’Hermione thought bitterly, inconspicuously glancing at the Slytherin table to watch Draco stab his breakfast sausage.

The next few days he was rarely seen without his pug-faced counterpart, resulting in Hermione’s first successful ploy at wandless magic. She had set Pansy’s Charms exam on fire, consequently losing Slytherin 10 points in the rare occasion that Professor Flitwick reprimanded a student. Pansy would also get a zero for the assignment. Hermione tried not to look too pleased with herself, which was easier than she thought, the fact that Malfoy still wouldn’t acknowledged her slightly marring her small victory. It was enough to keep her sane for the rest of the week though, the visions of Pansy frantically shrieking and fanning her charring exam, a few wayward ashes finding their way into her overdone hair, making up for times Hermione would catch the wench with her hands on Draco’s arm.

The first Saturday of December was also the first major snowfall, and a Hogsmead weekend to boot. Harry wasn’t going. He had a meeting with ex-professor Snape at Grimmauld Place about the trip to retrieve and destroy the ‘Hufflepuff Horcrux,’ as they were so originally calling it. Ron was tagging along, but they thought it best if Hermione stayed behind. More people would notice the absence of the Head Girl than they would Ron, and they didn’t want anyone to suspect that the Golden Trio was off on any Anti-Voldemort quests.

So Hermione and Ginny were left alone in the Gryffindor common room, patiently awaiting the return of the two boys. It seemed like everyone else had taken advantage of the opportunity to venture out of the castle, and the silence in the big empty room was deafening. Hermione was reading, well, she was staring at a book in an attempt to read. She could feel the red haired girl’s eyes boring into her, but every time Hermione looked up, Ginny quickly averted her gaze. She couldn’t be more obvious… or annoying.

A few painfully silent minutes later, Ginny cleared her throat, and made a sad attempt at ‘small talk.’

“So.. it must be nice having your own quarters, even if you have to share part with Ferret Boy.”

“Yeah…” Hermione awkwardly stammered a response. “It is.”

A few more uncomfortable moments passed. Hermione briefly reflected on how strange it was. Ginny could normally talk the ear off a Hippogriff, and Hermione was no boring mute either. For some reason, she just didn’t know what to say. She could confront the fiery Weasley about her atypical behavior, but in all honesty, Hermione had enough on her plate, so she didn’t really want to know.

“You know, Fleur and Bill are having a boy,” Ginny said out of nowhere, presumably as another attempt to end the uneasiness between them.

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Hermione replied, making a serious effort to sound as enthused as she knew she should be, her own problems with the Head Boy and such making it almost impossible to muster up a truly happy feeling for someone else.

“Yeah… Bill’s ecstatic, but he says Fleur wanted a girl… “ Ginny trailed off, her eyes never leaving Hermione’s face. Just when Hermione was seriously becoming aggravated, the red haired girl lowered her gaze, staring fixedly at her hands, which were fighting each other in her lap. Hermione recognized the gesture. Her friend’s hands were a visual confirmation of an inner battle the girl was having. Eventually, Ginny’s fingers clasped and stilled, and she resumed speaking.

“Yeah… so… What are you having?” she asked conversationally. Hermione immediately started choking on the small amount of saliva in her mouth. For some reason, this made Ginny groan and sink back in her seat, covering her face with her hands.

“Oh no! No ‘Mione, no! You were supposed to laugh at me and tell me what a preposterous question that was! I didn’t want to believe it. To be honest, I don’t think I did believe it! Just tell me it’s not true. Please tell me it isn’t true! You can’t be pregnant!”

Hermione didn’t know what to say. So far she hadn’t had to lie to her friends, not really anyways, because they never asked her. Outright lying to Ginny’s face about something that she actually semi-kind of wanted to tell, and that the girl would inevitably find out about anyways, didn’t seem like the right thing to do. Instead she asked the burning question on her mind, simultaneously telling Ginny all she didn’t want to know.

“How did you find out?”

“So it’s true?” Ginny asked softly, her eyes wide, sad, and questioning. Hermione slowly nodded, feeling completely overwhelmed all of a sudden.

“Are you sure?”

“Well… I took a couple of tests…” ‘A couple hundred…’ “And I’ve been experiencing all the symptoms. So yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

“But you haven’t seen Madame Pomfrey yet?” Ginny asked, almost sounding hopeful.

“No…” Hermione replied quietly, the guilt rising in her throat and causing her voice to crack. For the health of the ‘thing’ growing inside of her, she knew she should have went to the school nurse as soon as she found out about it, not three weeks after the fact. She couldn’t quite explain how she felt though. She knew that she was pregnant, but her logical side was still there, telling her it wasn’t possible. She may not be a virgin anymore, but she was when her body started changing, and the tests started coming out positive. Throughout her whole life, her logical side reigned supreme, making it almost impossible for her to block it out completely in the current situation. Until she could do so however, she couldn’t entirely accept the ‘thing.’ It just didn’t feel real.

“So you’re not sure you’re sure. There is a chance it could be something else, right?”

“Err…” Hermione didn’t know what to say to that. It was nice that her friend was being optimistic instead of just really, really mad, but she wasn’t prepared for any of this yet. She needed more time before it was all out in the open. Ginny had other plans.

“Let’s go,” Ginny ordered, getting up and heading towards the portrait hole.

“What? Go where!?” Hermione asked, dreading the answer.

“The infirmary. C’mon.” When Hermione didn’t move, Ginny walked to the couch, grabbed her by the arm, and pulled.

“No, Ginny please. I’ll go tomorrow I swear! Please let’s just wait. Harry and Ron will wonder where we went off to if they come back and we aren’t here.” She begged, planting her feet on the floor. Ginny continued to drag her from the room, no matter how much Hermione pleaded.

Outside the double doors that housed the hospital wing, the panic really started to settle in. It was all happening too fast. She couldn’t go in there. Not knowing what to do, she plopped herself down on the floor, making her limbs as lead-like as possible. Ginny was not in the mood to be tolerant of Hermione’s childish behavior. The little Weasley was definitely her mother’s daughter.

“Hermione, I’m not giving you a choice in this. Considering the circumstances, I think I’m handling this very well to be honest. It wasn’t easy to hear that my best friend, who so happens to be like the epitome of perfection in everything, is pregnant! And I’ve been sitting on this information for over two weeks, not knowing what to do about it,” Ginny spoke seriously, peering down at Hermione while she pouted on the floor.

“Ginny, please. What if I’m expelled for this?” she choked out, tears welling up in her eyes.

“You won’t be. Remember the ‘sex ed.’ speech? She said she would help, not reprimand. She never asks too many questions either, which is more than I can say if you don’t get in there right now. I’ll let Madame Pomfrey confirm things before I interrogate you I suppose… “

Hermione quickly wiped her eyes, knowing that Ginny was doing the right thing, as much as she hated to admit it. She took the hand that her friend was offering, and grudgingly got to her feet.

“It’s ok ‘Mione, you may not even be,” she said reassuringly.

“Yeah…” Hermione replied in false confidence, using all her self-control to keep from running straight to the Forbidden Forest and beyond. She wished she had some of the hope that Ginny did, but her gut told her that Madame Pomfrey was only going to validate what she already knew to be true.

“Do you want me to go in with you?”

“No,” Hermione immediately made up her mind. She had gotten this far on her own, she didn’t need Ginny there for this.

“I’m going to wait out here for awhile to make sure you don’t skive off. Just get it over with. I don’t know how long you’ll be, but if Filch comes around and says something, I’ll see you in the common room.”

Hermione only managed a curt nod, while Ginny nudged her through the doors.

“Wait, wait, can’t we just talk about this before rushing into something so irrationally!?” The words burst out of her, and luckily the doorframe was there so she could brace herself from being pushed any further.

“In!” Ginny commanded severely.

“But-“

“No buts Missy!”

Hermione glared at her friend, who was refusing to back down, not that she really expected anything less from a woman that was related to Ron. So she decided to concede, bit her tongue, and took a step through the doorway.

“Go!” Ginny said exasperatedly, shooing Hermione in with her hands. Hermione turned to do as she was told, making it a whole two steps, before she spun around to face the red head again, who rolled her eyes accordingly.

“Wait, just one more thing.”

“Just the one?” Ginny asked sarcastically. Hermione scowled back, but asked her question anyways.

“How did you find out?”

“Oh yeah. Well someone sent me a note about it,” she said, digging in her pocket and extracting a small square of parchment. “I thought it was a joke at first until I realized you were trying to make Hogwarts’ robes into fashionable weekend attire. Then I thought there might possibly be some truth to it. Here.” Ginny handed over the note, which Hermione took with a shaking hand, instantly noticing the thick expensive paper it was composed on.

‘Hermione’s pregnant.’ was all it said. She took in the small, cramped but neat handwriting. She would recognize it anywhere…

‘Malfoy!’

Anger seared through her veins, and she felt the heat arise in her face. Seeing the nurse seemed so insignificant when compared to disemboweling the Head Boy with a severing charm, starting in the groin area…

“Go!” Ginny interrupted her thoughts, sending her through the doors with a final shove. Hermione actually gave in and went almost willingly, deciding to save her energy to wage war with Draco Malfoy. The infirmary was empty, and her footsteps echoed loudly in the cavernous stone room, alerting Madame Pomfrey of her entrance. The nurse hurriedly bustled over to her. Hermione gulped.

‘This is it…’


***


Hours later, Hermione slowly slumped down the thankfully empty hallways for the privacy of her bedroom. She didn’t want to see her friends, or anyone for that matter. Even if Dumbledore suddenly rose from the grave, she would have snubbed him. She had spent the entire afternoon being poked and prodded and examined in places that were not meant for an old lady to be up close and personal with. The nurse had fussed over her profusely, making her drink all kinds of horrible tasting, supposedly ‘nutritional’ potions. She was given informational books, vitamin potions, and a card reminding her of her next appointment, which was to be on the first day of winter break.

After all that, Hermione almost felt relieved. She had gotten one major milestone out of the way, which was a start. Madame Pomfrey really didn’t ask many questions, and promised that she wouldn’t be in trouble as long as she dealt with it responsibly. She actually thought for a minute that it would all work itself out. That was until the nurse pulled out her wand, and ordered Hermione back on the bed. She covered the gentle mound of Hermione’s stomach with a clear, gooey gel, and started running the tip of her wand in circles across her belly.

It didn’t take long for a ghost-like image to rise up from the jelly, suspending itself a few inches above the ‘baby bump.’ The nurse explained that it was an exact duplication of the fetus. Size, shape, everything the same, only it was transparent and seemed to be made of wisps of smoke. Hermione had swallowed hard and bit her lip. Suddenly, it felt real- too real. Both women continued to stare silently at the image. Madame Pomfrey whispered an incantation, making the projection revolve in place. It had all gone downhill from there…

When she finally returned to the safety of the Heads’ Quarters, her eyes immediately narrowed at the sight of Draco Malfoy, the one she had to thank for the days events.

“You!” she screeched, stalking towards the couch he was so casually sprawled out on. He slowly looked up, feigning indifference, even though his insides were squirming. This was the closest they had been since he had been inside of her, but the look on her face and volume of her voice suggested that this encounter was not going to be quite as much fun. He was still stuck in the Binding spell with Pansy, so there was pretty much no possibility of him being able to sooth her. He figured he had two options.

Option One: Keep his mouth shut while Granger let out all her frustrations on him. Pelting him with insults and curses until he ran from the room as an emasculated, blistering blob, possibly sporting a new set of moose antlers.

Or Option Two: Rise magnificently to the occasion, matching her insult for insult with the grace and ease only a Malfoy could achieve.

After careful consideration, he chose Option number two. He preferred to keep his manhood and his reputation, even if neither one was doing him much good lately. Besides, unless he wanted to spend the rest of his short life as Pansy’s man candy, he couldn’t say anything nice to Hermione anyways. He might as well do the thing right.

“Yes, me Granger. Try not to flood your knickers,” he sneered.

“You told Ginny. How could you do that!? This wasn’t you’re business to tell!” Hermione shouted, fresh tears threatening to spill over.

Shit. So she knew about the letter he had sent to the Weasel girl. Didn’t she see that he had actually done her a favor? No, of course she didn’t. Oh well, she would realize that it was for the best soon enough. In the mean time, there was no reason he couldn’t continue on with Option two.

“Because you may not like it, but you are having a baby! A baby that needs you to care for it no matter how long you continue to ignore its existence,” Draco spat, his cold eyes not even looking at her. Forcing himself not to look at her.

“You’re wrong…” she replied solemnly.

“No I’m not. If I didn’t do something you would’ve just walked around like nothing was out of the ordinary until you went to the loo and pissed out a screaming, crying, living, child!”

“No, you’re wrong…” she said softly, her voice starting to tremble slightly.

“Enlighten me Granger, how am I wrong?”

“Because I’m not having a baby… I’m having two babies! Two little things growing inside of me that were conceived long before the two times I’ve ever had sex! Enlighten ME, Malfoy!”

Draco was speechless, and it had nothing to do with the binding ring on his finger.

Twins?








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Ok, I know the big question on everybody’s mind right now…. Why is Kim Kardashian famous?

Err just kidding! (kind of). Ok but seriously…

Twins? C’mon, I know you all expected it, I dropped the most obvious hint EVER way back when in chapter 18: ‘These potions should be taken only if necessary, as they also increase the probability of multiple births…’
I got the idea because actual fertility drugs do the same thing, so yeah, double the fun!

I hope this chapter explained things better than the last one, but if there are still holes, seriously feel free to tell me!! Please tell me, it’s hard for me to see this from other peoples’ points of view as the writer, because it all makes sense to me, so I really do appreciate and need to hear your perspective. It helps a lot : ) I wanted to poetically call this chapter ‘Draco with Tourette’s’ Hmm.. yeah I still might have to change to that...

Camryn- Thank you SO much that quote was driving me crazy! I hope this chapter answered your questions. Hermione will find out eventually, I’m still working out the kinks but I have most of the ending worked out. Thanks for reviewing : )

Kayy- Take your time, real life comes first! I can’t wait to reread your stories when you’re done editing.

Everyone else who reviewed, thank you SO much, you guys keep me going with this story. I love reading your reactions to what’s happening with it, because I never know what people will think. So thank you!!!

As always, please review! Please Please PLEASE please please!!!! Pretty please, with Draco on top!? ; )