When Hermione opened her eyes, it was late evening. Turning her head, she found Malfoy standing in front of the portrait on the wall, speaking to it in a low voice.
The witch in the painting immediately caught sight of Hermione's movement and gestured over his shoulder. He stopped speaking and turned on his heel to stare at her.
He looked tired and singularly unenthused by his impending fatherhood.
Hermione felt as though she were going to be sick.
She squeezed her eyes shut, curled into a defensive ball and tried not to start crying again. She could hear the clipped sound of Malfoy's shoes as he crossed the room and approached her bed.
There was a long silence and she could feel his gaze on her. She tucked her chin down against her shoulder and willed him away.
"You are not allowed to hurt yourself, or do anything to cause an abortion or miscarriage."
It was not a statement, it was a command. She could feel the flush of heat around her wrists.
"I'm sure you'll try to rationalise it as being protective in an attempt to get around the compulsions, but it is not. You are not allowed to do anything to end your pregnancy."
She could feel the prick of tears in the corner of her eyes and sobbed faintly.
"Topsy, will monitoring you full-time now, to ensure you don't experience any misfortunes like tripping on the stairs, or chewing on a sprig of yew. She's cared for pregnant witches before, so she's well aware of what you can and cannot eat or drink. She has my permission to immediately restrain you if you try anything."
Hermione didn't say anything. Malfoy remained standing beside her bed for several minutes before he sighed faintly. She heard his retreating footsteps and the click of the door.
She stayed in bed, and alternated between crying and sleeping; curled up tightly, wrapping her arms around her stomach protectively.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," she whispered again and again. "I would do anything to spare you from this world."
Malfoy reappeared after four days.
"You cannot lie moping for nine months," he said. "You need to eat. You should go outside."
Hermione ignored him and hoped he'd leave. Unless he intended to force her from the bed she had no intention of moving. There was a long silence. She could feel his eyes on her.
"I have something for you," he finally said.
She felt something heavy press into the coverlet and cracked an eye open. There was a thick book laid beside her. A Guide to Effective Care in Magical Pregnancy and Childbirth.
She closed her eyes again.
"I can't touch your books," she said, her mouth twisting as she spoke and her voice shaking faintly. "Astoria had them all warded against Mudbloods."
"This is not from the manor library." Malfoy's tone was faintly amused. "It won't burn you."
There was a pause.
"I will expect you to get out of bed tomorrow."
After he left, Hermione opened her eyes again and tentatively reached toward the book, resting a finger lightly on the cover. There was no burning sensation as she came in contact with it.
She pulled it closer, drawing it against her chest and holding it tightly.
The next day, Hermione forced herself out bed and went over to the window. The book was brand new; the leather spine creaked slightly as she lifted the cover, and the pages smelled faintly of machine oil and ink. It was three inches thick and printed on scritta paper. She started on the table of contents and read for hours straight.
YOU ARE READING
Manacled by Senlinyu
FanfictionHarry Potter is dead. In the aftermath of the war, in order to strengthen the might of the magical world, Voldemort enacts a repopulation effort. Hermione Granger has an Order secret, lost but hidden in her mind, so she is sent as an enslaved surrog...