A/N: Hey there! Chapter 2 of around 6 is up and running! Please leave a review if you have anything at all to say. Oh, and I pre-apologize for my utter lack of creativity when it comes to pronouns later in the chapter.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything as remotely awesome, but if I did, you could be sure I wouldn't be nearly as worried about tuition rates increasing!
Chapter 2: "Tick-Tock"
Hermione didn't know what to think about Harry's answer-or rather, his lack of answer-to her quandary. He clearly seemed to have an opinion on the matter, but she couldn't for the life of her think of why he wouldn't divulge it. Figuring it would not be productive to overanalyze the situation until she had more answers-chiefly, after her visit to Madame Pomfrey-Hermione set her mind to the task of getting ready for work.
When her bedside clock indicated it was nearly a quarter to seven, she collected her bag and traveling cloak and left her room, shouting for Harry as she went.
"Harry, get a move on, we've got to go!"
As she rounded the corner from the hallway to the living room, she was surprised to find that Harry was expectantly tapping his foot, his own cloak folded in his arms. As they'd have to travel partway through Muggle London, neither could leave the flat in visible wizard attire.
She laughed at his poor imitation of her impatience and hurried him out the door and down their building's many staircases. Opting to live together in a flat near the main hubbub of central London, at a brisk walk they reached their destination a few minutes shy of seven.
"Here we are, dear friend, the Leaky Cauldron," said Harry solemnly, gazing at the gilded crud-covered sign which, before their very eyes, transformed to reveal the name of the famous pub. "Many a good time we've had in these four walls, wouldn't you agree?"
"Indeed, good sir," replied Hermione, chuckling at Harry's abrupt demonstration of his weird sense of humor, "C'mon, Harry, let's go inside, I'm freezing and I'm going to be late to meet Ginny." She pushed open the heavy door and immediately felt the rush of warmth from within the pub. Though early in the day, the Leaky Cauldron was already crowded with morning commuters such as Harry and Hermione. While making their way through the throng of said commuters, Harry waved a cheery hello to Tom, who was partially obstructed behind a leaning tower of drying dishes.
"Remind me again, why you're going in so early?" Hermione asked over the din.
Harry grimaced as though reminded of something unpleasant. "I really didn't want to be there when Marathon Man woke up this morning. I mean, I love Luna as much as the next bloke-- "
"Except Ron," Hermione interrupted, smirking.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, except Ron. I just didn't want to deal with all that morning-after mushiness," he explained.
Hermione laughed at the image of Harry sitting at the breakfast table scowling back and forth between Ron (also known as "Marathon Man" to Harry and Hermione, so named for his enduring nocturnal appetite) and Luna as they fed each other food from their plates. Harry glanced at her curiously and as his serious façade broke, joined her in her laughter.
At last they reached the back of the pub and approached the brick wall separating the two coexisting worlds. Harry fumbled in his robes concealed beneath his traveling cloak for his wand to activate the portal, but was beaten by Hermione who promptly tapped the specified brick and shook her head at him.
"Some Auror you are," she tsk-tsked at him. "What if there was a band of mad Dark Wizards beyond this brick wall?"
Harry mumbled an incoherent reply, but was interrupted by an enthusiastic greeting from Ginny who had arrived a little after them at the Apparition Point. The line to enter the designated area stretched nearly a quarter of the way down Diagon Alley, composed of mainly Ministry witches and wizards who also lived in or near the Leaky Cauldron. Some, however, were employees in Hogsmeade or, as in Hermione and Ginny's case, professors at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As they neared the head of the line and loud cracks joined the multitude of other noises heard in the alley, Hermione waved goodbye to Harry as he branched off toward the line reserved for those heading to the Ministry of Magic, and she and Ginny followed those heading to Hogsmeade.
Some minutes later the two witches arrived in the village and immediately set a course for the gates where the queue of carriages would be waiting. While many professors opted for living quarters within Hogwarts, Hermione and Ginny were exceptions. Hermione required the comforting presence of her two best friends in Muggle London, neither of whom wanted to battle the mad hordes of teenage witches that seemed to detect the guys' presence in less than five minutes. Ginny, on the other hand, had been delighting in the independence that living solo could offer, especially when compared to the sometimes stifling atmosphere of the Burrow. For these reasons, both Hermione and Ginny had to make the same excruciating commute every instructional day or special Hogwarts occasion.
Hermione had always loved the village of Hogsmeade, appreciating its welcoming beauty and friendly populace. Even now as she looked around, men and women were out of doors beginning their day directing shovels to clear the paths to their homes with their wands while their children drew designs on the fogged-up windowpanes. She smiled to a little girl in bright pink foot pajamas who waved at her from the open doorway of her home.
It was only then that Hermione noticed most of the crowd around her consisted children hanging off the arms of their parents as they conducted morning business. She frowned, wondering how this detail escaped her attention for the several years that she'd traveled the Hogsmeade route at this time of day. It was also puzzling to her that this detail seemed noteworthy.
Ginny caught her expression. "What?" she asked, her eyes excitedly scanning the crowd. "Did you see someone we know?"
"No, I was just-"
"Well come on then, or you'll be late for your meeting with McGonagall!" Ginny cried, now positively dragging Hermione by the arm through the rest of Hogsmeade until they reached the gate where the thestral-drawn carriages were lined. Seeing these carriages always reminded her of Harry, and how horrified she was with herself back in fifth year when she expressed the wish that she could see the creatures. She could see them now all right, but the price she paid for this ability was more than she thought was worth a satisfied curiosity.
Nevertheless both women climbed aboard and watched as the Hogwarts castle grew nearer. They rode in silence as each went over their lesson plans for classes that day and struggled to avoid thinking about exactly why they both knew every visual detail of the creature leading their carriage.
Ginny, who had finally completed her servitude as assistant Charms professor, had just this year taken over the department when Professor Flitwick took his well-deserved retirement. Still practically bursting with raw energy this far into the school term, Ginny studiously pored over her notes for that day's lesson. And, on the other side of the carriage, anyone who didn't know Hermione would probably have said the same. However, Hermione's mind was elsewhere, again dwelling on her recurring dream, try as she might to banish the thought for later.
The carriage stopped abruptly and Hermione was startled from her musings. She stumbled onto the cobbled stones of the Hogwarts steps less gracefully than Ginny, whom she quickly followed through the castle's great doors.
Ginny pulled her gold timepiece from her robes and after examining it for a moment, turned to Hermione and said, "Mmm, smells like kippers. You wanna grab a bite before lessons? Hey, look! Hagrid's there too, haven't seen him in a while. It looks as though he might have gotten a new coat-"
"Ginny," Hermione began.
"Would you include the counterspell of hiccups in your instruction of cheering charms? Because I seem to recall-"
"Ginny."
"Yes, Hermione? You know, you seem very quiet today. Is anything the matter?"
Hermione waited a moment before answering in case Ginny started talking again. Shrugging her shoulders at Ginny, she replied, "Nothing a little trip to the Hospital Wing can't fix." She looked away and considered casting a cheering charm on herself before her meeting with the headmistress.
Ginny still looked concerned but hid it when Hermione turned to face her. She looked down at her watch and jumped.
"Hermione! It's a quarter to eight, it's time for your meeting with McGonagall!" She grabbed Hermione by the shoulders and began pushing her through the throng of students toward the nearest staircase. With the air of a mother sending her child off for the first day of school, Ginny waved her goodbye and yelled just audibly, "Let me know how it goes, won't you? Must run, I have those third years next lesson!"
Hermione chuckled to herself as Ginny was whisked away. On days like this one, Hermione was especially glad that Ginny was around to lighten the atmosphere.
Hermione stopped just outside of the entrance to the headmistress' office. Even while gazing at the stone gargoyle, she acknowledged that no matter how many years went by, she still had difficulty thinking of it as anything but Dumbledore's and had to mentally restrain herself from reciting all the sweets she could think of.
"Professor Granger?" came a voice from the side.
"Fizzing Whizbee!" Hermione blurted as she spun to face the speaker. Immediately she felt a blush creeping up her cheeks as she gave a small, apologetic smile to Professor McGonagall. The woman simply nodded and sniffed so that her nostrils contracted.
The pair made their way to McGonagall's office where they spent the next quarter of an hour updating the Transfiguration syllabus. Luckily, Hermione had several alternate plans constructed for this very meeting, one which the headmistress would be holding with each Hogwarts professor. All in all, it served as a good distraction from the thoughts that had been plaguing her all day long.
When their meeting was adjourned, Hermione forced herself to walk at a sedate speed down the many halls toward the Hospital Wing. Her nervousness had concentrated itself into a tight ball in her stomach. After an appraisal from Madame Pomfrey, she would know for certain if her nocturnal disturbances were trying to tell her something. With a deep breath, she pushed open the heavy oak door to the room that had become somewhat of her second home during her education at Hogwarts.
Early morning sunlight filtered lazily through the east windows of the hospital ward, bathing the entire room in a welcoming glow that dulled the sterile smell of antiseptic. It also reflected off a particular brass nameplate bearing the name 'Harry J. Potter' and the term of his years at Hogwarts. A quick glance around the room showed the nurse already administering a Pepper-Up potion to several older students, no doubt to the nasty bout of February flu spreading throughout the school. Hermione's trepidation lessened slightly as she perched herself on the end of bed number four.
Madame Pomfrey, resident nurse at Hogwarts, had changed little over the years. She was both a woman hard as nails and yet strangely compassionate. Hermione found the nurse's tut-tutting and rigidity about the rules more endearing than most.
Hermione's gaze wandered the room as she recalled each and every reason why this ward felt so much like home to her. Aside from the numerous times that she frequented the place as a visitor to Harry or Ron (or both), she'd also gained personal familiarity with the Hogwarts healer herself on more than one occasion.
Hermione was just wondering how she could get her linens so crisp when Madame Pomfrey's brisk voice called to her.
"Ah, Miss Granger-or should I say 'Professor' Granger? What brings you in today?"
Hermione smiled at the change in address. For a moment she'd felt thirteen again, approaching the nurse with an ailment she couldn't quite explain. But at least she wasn't covered in hair or in possession of a tail this time. Her smile widened at the memory and she replied, "Please call me Hermione. Well, Madame Pomfrey, to be honest I don't really know why I'm here, other than that I've been having some odd dreams and everything lately. Harry suggested I come here to be checked out, since I know he trusts you more than he'll admit, but I just wanted to…make sure. That everything was all right, you know."
She was beginning to ramble and Madame Pomfrey seemed to sense this, so she chose that moment to insert a popsicle stick into Hermione's mouth. Peering down into the young woman's throat, she instructed Hermione to say 'Aaaawww.'
"Ah ohn't hink ut's ay thoa," she sputtered instead. (A/N: Translation-"I don't think it's my throat." And yes I really did hold down my tongue with a popsicle stick and see what sounds actually came out. I just have easy access to a lot of Popsicle sticks, as I eat like a bazillion. Anyway.)
The nurse wore a puzzled expression as she removed her wand from where it had been tucked in her sleeve. Muttering an intelligible spell, she waved the wand over Hermione's body, much like a security guard. The wand showed no visible color change in any area.
Madame Pomfrey looked up at Hermione quizzically. "What exactly brought on your suspicions of an illness, Prof-I'm sorry, Hermione?"
Hermione launched into a detailed description of her troubled mornings and vague feelings of loss, as well as her theories about her subconscious informing her of any decline of health, while the nurse listened patiently. Finally Hermione finished and regarded Madame Pomfrey with an expression mingled in both fear and expectation.
When the nurse finally spoke, it was to voice a question that Hermione had not anticipated.
"And how old are you now, Hermione?" she asked delicately.
"I've just turned twenty-five last September. Why, is that relevant? Do you know what the mat-"
"I know nothing, yet. However, there is a test that can be done. It is not often used in witches so young, but I believe that perhaps your Muggle background is allowing the symptoms to make themselves known at a much younger age. We shall see, if you are interested?"
A small kernel of hope rose in her chest. If she knew the problem, she was that much closer to finding the solution. She could barely keep her heading from falling off as she nodded vigorously.
The older witch screwed up her eyes in concentration, muttered a rather long incantation, and performed a tricky wand movement which cast a pale blue glow around Hermione's body. As the pair watched, the glow brightened until its intensity caused Hermione to squint as well. Madame Pomfrey nodded to herself once and cancelled the spell.
Breathing heavily with excitement, she asked, "I've never heard that spell used before, Madame Pomfrey. Utumqua preferus refero?" She paused briefly, the cogs in her head working furiously. "But, doesn't that mean-"
"Simply put, it is the Optimum Reproduction Test, used to determine just what it says. The intensity of the light indicates the degree of fertility in the patient. Now as I've said, this is especially rare in a witch of your age, but not unheard of," Madame Pomfrey explained.
Hermione shook her head and blinked several times. Reproduction? Fertility? Intensity of light? Her normally sharp-witted mind was still working to catch up.
"So, what the test is saying is that I am, well, extremely fertile?" she blushed slightly.
The older woman seemed to be contemplating her answer carefully. "Yes, that's what the test indicates. But it's more than that. Basically, it's telling us that you're biological clock is ticking, and at a rapid pace. I can't say for sure, but you may only have as many as ten years before your fertility levels drop. That's uncommon even for a Muggle woman, but like I said, it's not entirely unprecedented. Now, this doesn't mean that you will be unable to bear children in ten years, it just means that the likelihood of conceiving decreases."
Ten years. Ten years. Ten years…. What seemed like plenty of time could quite possibly pass by in what may feel like a week. Suddenly she was very frightened that with all the energy and time she put into her career and other involvements, she would miss this ten year window. Like the nurse said, she was young, and her career here at Hogwarts wasn't as developed as Hermione would prefer.
She raised her eyes to the older woman. "Madame Pomfrey, I'm not married. Hell, I don't even have a boyfriend. And, well, with the way things are going, that is unlikely to change. What should I do?"
Childless and uninvolved herself, the Hogwarts nurse gave the young woman a sympathetic look. "There are other ways around that, Hermione," she said gently, "if that is the direction you want to take."
Comprehension dawned on Hermione's face and she began to get up from the bed and make her goodbyes. But, as was her nature, she would not allow herself to make any major decisions before thinking her options over thoroughly. After she had shaken the nurse's and thanked her for the final time, she turned and head toward the door. Suddenly, she stopped, remembering something that the Hogwarts nurse had said earlier in the conversation.
She whipped around. "Madame Pomfrey?" she called curiously, for the nurse had returned to her office. When Hermione saw her head peek around the corner, she asked, "You said that my situation wasn't entirely unheard of. Did you, if I may ask, know someone else with similar results to the Optimum Reproduction test as me?"
"Oh yes, just one. And, like you, she was also Muggle-born," Madame Pomfrey smiled slightly.
Hermione raised her eyebrows expectantly. "Who?"
"Lily Potter."
A/N: Ah! I'm not trying to make the point that career women can't have kids or anything, so don't hate me! In fact, it touches upon the argument against that in the next few chapters. Oh yes and the Latin is total crap. And, um, I wrote the majority of this while I was half-asleep, so if it sucks, there's something you can mention in a review! Yay, reviewing!