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by biancandor

by biancandor

It's been a week since the incident happened between Draco and Hermione. And ever since, he still hasn't come to work. Hermione was getting worried-- and sick. The morning after Friday night, she'd been vomiting all day, which was normal for a hangover. But the days after have been nothing but revisiting the toilet two or more times each, at the least.

She thought about calling Draco while on her lunch break, using work as an excuse. After three rings, she was about to lose hope, until Draco finally picked up. "Draco!" Hermione yelled. "Why have you not come to work since--" and it was then, that she needed to throw up again, for the third time. She dashed to the nearest restroom, while Draco was still on. "Hermione?" Draco asked, frantic. "Are you okay? What's going on?" Are you sick?"

Following five minutes of constant vomiting, Hermione finally responded. "Draco, I think something's wrong with me," she stated, distressed. "I've been throwing up repeatedly this past week."

Draco thought for a moment. "I agree," he replied. "Hermione, I think you're--" and he was cut off by the sound of knocking on Hermione's side of the call.

"Hermione, break's over. Are you fine?" it was her boss, their boss.

"Yes, yes. I'm fine," she projected. "Draco, I have to go," whispering, and hung up before Draco could even finish saying the last word from his theory.

____________________________________________

Hermione returned to her hotel room. There was a note outside her doorway. We need to talk. My floo is open. Just say Draco's room and it'll take you right to my suite.

Until then,

Draco.

Upon receiving his note, Hermione did as he requested. Stepping into his room, she ignored the centuries' old art and expensive, hand-woven tapestries and focused on him. She was about to speak, but Draco raised a hand.

"Okay, before you nag at me for avoiding you all week, I have bad news. Two, actually. Well, if you consider the second one as bad news," he told her.

A worried look crossed her face. "We can't annul it?" she guessed. Draco shook his head. "What about divorce?"

"Yeah, you know that 'til death do us part' vow?" he asked. "It would seem that the wizarding world take that very seriously."

Hermione felt lightheaded. She was married and there was no way out. "So, one of us has to die in order to get out of this?" she asked. "Witches and wizards never divorce?"

"It's rare," he told her. "There has to be an extremely good reason. Abuse is the most common excuse used, but you have to be able to prove it."

"So, I push you down a flight of stairs, and it's over?" she asked.

He distanced himself from her. "First of all, please don't," he replied. "Second, if the Wizengamot finds the accused guilty, they send you to Azkaban. They take domestic violence very seriously."

"I wouldn't really push you down a flight of stairs," she assured him, brow furrowed. "At least, I don't think I would."

Draco couldn't help but laugh. "I'm sure I'll give you plenty of reasons to think about doing it," he replied, nervously. "Anyway, the second news."

Hermione stood silent.

He brought out a brown paper bag from the counter and took out what was within.

A pregnancy test.