Released ~ Bound Shorts

Midnight Meeting

A/N: I know I've been away for ages, and I know you all want more of Bound, BUT(T) I needed to ease myself back into writing, so here's a little 'What if?' scenario, based on a comment by pillowtalkparadise15. 

You would have had this on Friday night, but I decided to drink some homemade alcoholic ginger beer, but it took ages for the buzz to kick in and I got impatient and decided to also get stoned, not realising how drunk I was gonna end up. Long story short - It was a goddamn EXPERIENCE and I am an idiot. I will absolutely be doing it again sometime.

Anyway, don't be like me and Enjoy!

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"Harry!" Hermione called softly, eyes darting nervously about the hallway. "Harry!"

"Hm?" Harry grunted, roused reluctantly from his sleep. "W-what's going on?"

"Harry, come here!" Hermione whispered urgently.

"Hermione?" Harry whispered back, pausing as Ron snored loudly. "It's the middle of the night..."

"I know," Hermione replied, "Please?"

Groaning, Harry dragged himself from the warm comfort of his bed.

Ron grunted and rolled over, but didn't wake.

Hermione led him quietly down the narrow stairs of the burrow, into the kitchen.

Harry slumped into a chair at the table, head resting on the cool wooden surface, watching sleepily as Hermione buzzed about making tea. He rolled his eyes as she fidgeted nervously, but waited for her to join him.

Hermione handed Harry a cup of peppermint tea, and slid into the seat opposite him, sipping at her own steaming cup.

Moments passed in near-total silence, interrupted only by the ticking of the clock and the slurping of tea.

Finally, Harry broke. "What's wrong, Hermione?"

"What?" She stared at him wide eyed, looking rather like a deer caught in headlights. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong. Why- Why do you ask?"

Harry frowned "Nothing's wrong? You – Hermione Granger – got me out of bed in the middle of the night to drink tea in the kitchen because nothing's wrong?"

Hermione shrugged, swirling her tea as she worried her lip.

"You expect me to believe that?" Harry continued. "Hermione, something's clearly bothering you. Just tell me. Please?"

Hermione sighed. "Fine. But you can't tell anyone else – not even Ron... Or Draco. Do you understand? Nobody can know."

Harry nodded. "I swear."

"I--" She stopped short, teeth once again catching her lower lip, worrying at it as she fidgeted. Taking a deep breath, she tried again: "I-I'm... I think..." She sighed frustratedly, "I think I'm pregnant... Harry... I- I think I'm pregnant."

Harry's jaw dropped and he stared, wide eyed, at her ashen face. "You-you're..." He trailed off. "You're pregnant?!" He whisper-yelled.

Hermione nodded, staring into her cup. "I think so."

"How?!" Harry asked, leaning across the table.

Hermione glared at him.

"You know what I mean," he replied. "I thought you didn't like Ron like that..."