AN: Thanks for all the incredibly nice reviews: sometimes it's bordering on amusing when I read them. First of all, this has plot elements of the movie 'Firelight' with Sophie Marceau (the one who played the queen in 'Braveheart' and the evil woman in one of the James Bond movies, one of the greatest French actresses ever!), but I only have the French spoken copy at home, so exact quotes in English will probably be missing in this fic... Secondly, we're not even halfway the story, so there's lots of angst coming, and I never said there would be a sad ending! Though I won't promise any happy endings either… you'll just have to wait and see ;-p
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Chapter 7
The night didn't end with that second encounter. Exploring their newfound pleasure in each other, they joined together a third time that third night. There were still boundaries upon them, and it became quite clear when Hermione murmured something just before pleasure crashed through her system again.
"I wish," she gasped, "I wish I'd be able to scream…"
The man didn't respond to this, but they looked in each other's eyes, knowing… She knew he understood that the silencing spells alone wouldn't allow her to be able to let go vocally, just as she hadn't been able to yell at the see before, even though nobody but him had been there to witness it…
The intense gaze that didn't break between them while they were moving in a most primal fashion, also replaced another form of line not to be crossed: they never kissed…
And even though Hermione wanted to, so much, she would not take that from him, neither would she give that last part of hers to him…
And even as the pleasure was blurring their vision, they continued to gaze at each other, as for the last time, as it was bittersweet goodbye…
He left almost immediately that night, leaving her to forget.
She had risen very early that morning, taking great care in washing up and dressing. Though she couldn't stand to be in the room were his smell lingered along with hers, she reigned in her emotions and illuminated all the candles she could find, while she let the fire in the hearth die out.
The cold that followed did her a strange kind of good, confirming her resolve not to succumb to the melancholy of the firelight…
She bundled up her few possessions and went aboard the ship that would bring her back to her Great-Britain. Gazing upon the retreating sight of the French shore, she was startled when the man suddenly appeared next to her on the deck.
Keeping her eyes on the land, she felt her heart skip a beat when he spoke:
"You remember the bargain? You will follow the arrangements?"
Hermione felt tears sting her eyes, and she told herself it was just the strong, cold wind. Controlling her voice but barely, she stated:
"I gave my word, I will keep my word…"
The man stood next to her for a few moments, keeping the usual respected distance between them, staring ahead fixedly. For those few moments, Hermione held her breath, her heart constricting with the realisation in the misty morning. They were strangers, never supposed to have met before, and destined never to meet again.
Only when he decided to leave her standing there, did she release the breath she'd been holding, and with it came the sobs she tried to conceal as best as she could.
After debarking from the ferry, she contacted Madam Pomfrey. Over the next weeks the magical nurse quickly determined that she was indeed with child, as if it could have been any different what with the potions and the amount of seed planted inside her.
Hermione felt extremely conflicted about being pregnant. Aside from the fear of the unknown development of her body, she also had to deal with the fact that this wouldn't be her child.
She also felt a slight disappointment mixed with relief when she heard of her condition… Because this cemented the fact that she wouldn't see the man that fathered the life growing inside her ever again. Disappointment because of a reason she didn't want to analyse, nor explore, and relief because she didn't think she would be able to hold on to herself if she were to experience another night like her last night in France…
Weeks followed themselves in a monotone. For now, she could still wander outside, but in a few months, she would be confined inside, as not to raise suspicion about her condition.
She was staying in a Muggle pension just outside of London. She received a weekly amount of money via Madam Pomfrey, just enough to live comfortably, but not enough to save up as a means to escape…
Hermione had entertained that path a few times. Periods in between her morning illness, she was suddenly overwhelmed with anxiety of losing the child growing inside her. Vague fleeting plans formed inside her mind on how she would be able to survive alone with a child, all the while hiding from its father…
But she had given her word, and she wasn't going to lose the last piece of her dignity by breaking it. Besides, she would not be able to provide for her child, and she kept the fantasy alive of the loving, rich, pureblood family her child would grow up in. She clung to that belief, and she steeled her heart.
The little bit of money she had been able to economise, went straight to the prison her father was held in. She bribed the guards to make sure her father survived while waiting for the money to pay of his debts.
The months crept by, and once Hermione started showing and was confined inside, Madam Pomfrey provided her with books and texts of all sorts of magical topics. Hermione clung to her studies, learning and cramming information as a means to keep any overwhelming emotions at bay.
Buying potion ingredients on credit, she accomplished an impressive amount of storage. When Madam Pomfrey recognised her skills, she even helped Hermione to sell some of her quality potions, which gave Hermione a temporary income to pay back her debts for the ingredients and a task to concentrate on.
Too soon, the pain started.
After an excruciating seven hours, Hermione heard the first cry of her child.
Through the hazes of her mind, she could hear the Madam Pomfrey whispering to the other nurses.
"It's a girl!"
"Is she normal?"
"Get her out of here…"
Hermione didn't even try to look at the child, and didn't protest when they carried the screaming little bundle away. Tears streamed from her eyes unchecked, and she barely remembered much about what happened after.
The only thing she knew was that she had never felt so empty as in that moment…
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