Disclaimer: JKR owns.
Safe Harbour
Chapter 3: A Terrible Hunch
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Harry instantly took a step away from the hooded figure. He was about to open his mouth to speak when a jet of blue light shot into Harry's chest, making him feel like he was just hit by a ton of bricks.
The blow knocked him to the ground and left him gasping for air. Finally having the strength to peel his eye lids back open, he caught a glimpse of more cloaked people stepping out from behind the first one and quickly surrounding him.
His first instinct was to slam his eyes close and picture the front of his apartment building. Just when the familiar sense of apparition made his arm hairs stand on end, a feeling like bricks were weighing down on his shoulders stopped him. Anti-apparition wards…
He was about to open his mouth to scream out a hasty wandless stupefy when another curse flew at him. It felt as if a blade was scalping him, and the pain was unbearable. No sound came out as he opened his mouth trying to scream out.
After minutes of the unknown assailants' torture had passed, Harry lay still on the ground. The only movement was the small, shaky breaths he took. He could hear someone whisper "search him" and then suddenly felt hands roughly shaking down his legs. They stopped and extracted something from his pocket. It must have been his phone and the wallet Hermione had given him for Christmas, since they were the only two things he carried with him.
How foolish he was to think that he didn't need to carry his wand around with him at all times in Boston…
"How precious," a voice to his right said. Harry peeled back an eyelid and saw a cloaked figure holding out the first sonogram he and Hermione got of the baby. His heart started beating wildly as another figure stepped forward and waved its wand at it, making it light up in flames.
Hands grabbed Harry and flipped him over so that he was laying on his back and facing up towards the black figures. The pain he felt as he tried to expand his lungs to say something was excruciating and the fact that he couldn't get rid of the metallic taste in his mouth was driving him crazy.
He could sense one of the figures leaning into him and heard, "Soon Potter, very soon, all that you love will be taken from you."
Harry's eyes shot open just in time to see another curse being aimed at him. His jaw clenched as white hot pain rippled through his body. He could hear and feel popping sounds in his chest like his rib cage was being twisted inside out. He tried to breath to steady the immense pain, but again the pressure in his lungs inhibited him.
This was all too much to handle; cloaked wizards finding him in Boston, making threats at him, burning his baby's picture, and now torturing him.
The last thought that shot through his numb brain before his eyes rolled back in their sockets was the hope that Hermione had made it home safely.
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Hermione closed the door to the flat and locked it behind her. Humming to herself softly, she made her way into the kitchen and threw the folder containing information on the baby onto the kitchen counter. She grinned to herself as she opened the fridge, thinking that in only a few more weeks she would be a mum.
She smiled and patted her stomach absently, before grabbing a water bottle off the fridge shelf. Popping off the cap, she turned around. Suddenly, she gasped.
The water bottle dropped to the floor and spilled over the kitchen tile as Hermione stayed frozen to her spot, looking wide-eyed at a hooded figure, cloaked all in black, standing behind the kitchen table. The person was staring straight at her.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat as she watched the person hold out a shimmering fist- not the normal hand of a regular human. Her eyes never left the person as a thought floated through her mind, thinking that she could possibly run past the intruder, into her room to retrieve her wand. The thought vanished, though, as she watched the folder that she had thrown on the table slide across to the person's hand.
Her eyes widened helplessly as the man started flipping through the folder containing all the medical information on her baby.
"Hmm," the figure finally sounded, shifting through some of the papers, "You're due sooner than I thought."
Hermione's heart plummeted. Who was this person and why was he concerned with the whereabouts of her baby? She tried to fold her arms to cover up her protruding stomach, despairingly wondering what this man was interested in. But to no avail, the figure only chuckled, "No use trying to hide it, Hermione."
"Who are you?" she asked in a level voice. She wasn't about to let this person know how intimidated she actually was.
"A wizard," the voice said in a breath like it was the greatest status anyone could ever be bestowed with.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "I figured."
"I actually used to be a big fan of yours. At least, that was until you let that bloody undeserving hero knock you up..."
Hermione's expression fell. This man knew Harry? Could that mean… no, it didn't sound like any Death Eater she knew… plus, most of them the ministry had locked up after the war. What was going on?
The feeling of desperation was starting to set in on her. This person obviously had been following her and Harry. That thought alone made her severely distressed.
"What do you want?" she asked more forcefully this time.
"Honestly?"
"No, I want you to lie to me," she spat at him. She could only imagine the smug look
behind the person's hood.
The man reached down in the folder and pulled out the recent sonogram. He held it up to Hermione as if it were a prize of some sort.
"Your baby."
Hermione paled and took a step back. She wanted to yell, scream- anything that would make someone come to help her, but all she could utter in a shaky voice was, "No."
The person chuckled, "Yes, indeed Miss Granger. Your baby could be a very vital part to my success."
Hermione couldn't fight the tears spilling down her cheeks. She felt like a fist was closing around her heart and squeezing it painfully. "W-Who are you?"
"All in due time," he said in his suave, yet sinister voice.
"You won't touch my baby! I won't let you!" she tried frantically, now backed against the fridge. She knew she was being daft by screaming protests at this man who obviously had the upper hand on her- but she'd be damned if she was just going to let this person say these dreadful things to her.
The man grinned, "Hermione, you won't have much of a choice." The menacing way he said that made Hermione's skin crawl. It was also eerie the way he kept addressing her by her first name- as if he knew her personally…
"W-What do you mean?" she asked, wanting to sound like she could really care less about what this intruder had to say- but that would be a lie. This man wanted her child and she had a right to know why.
He chuckled, "Your cluelessness is endearing."
Hermione scowled at him. The man chuckled again before he pulled a blue sphere from inside his robes.
Hermione's face fell and her knees buckled. It didn't take a genius to know what the man was holding. Suddenly, what he was implying started to make sense. He had to want her baby for a reason…
"No," she whispered as tears streaked down her face. This couldn't be happening. Not again… not to another Potter, "No, no, no…" she chanted in denial. She leaned against the fridge for support of her trembling legs.
"Marvellous things, prophecies, are the not?" he asked malignantly. Hermione's whole body was now trembling and she was too petrified to answer. All she was thinking was not her- not her baby…
"They have quite a… tantalizing… way to tell what might be in store for the future. Or in this case who…" he spoke in an evasive manner.
"No," Hermione started again emotionally, "Not my baby! You must have it wrong…"
"According to the prophecy, she'll decide whether or not our world will turn," he told her, ignoring her outburst and starting to gradually approach her.
She? "W-What do you mean 'turn'? This is absurd! She hasn't even been born yet- there can't be a prophecy made about her!"
"Why not? Potter had one made before he was born," he stated knowingly, making Hermione grow agitated.
"It-It's not factual though! Whatever the prophecy says, it could all be wrong!" Hermione tried dissuading him but he only laughed and got closer.
"You're right- as of now this is only superstition," he was now only a few steps from her making Hermione feel extremely uncomfortable, "Let's just say… I have a hunch."
Hermione wanted to slap him at the coolness of his tone but the fact that she was the mouse and he was the mad scientist in the situation refrained her from doing so. There was a glimmer out of the corner of her eyes and nonchalantly she looked over to where a knife was gleaming on top of the counter.
She felt a bit consoled at the aspect but she still bit her lip and let the tears spill down her face, "We'll never give her up to you."
This made the man laugh even louder. Hermione frowned, that laugh was familiar...
"You will, if you want her to live."
"You won't kill her if you need her," Hermione said in a squeaky voice- trying to reassure herself that he was bluffing. The man was getting forever closer, and she was getting even more desperate.
"I'd rather she die than have her grow up with you and saint Potter," he spat at her in an obvious tone. "You see, while she'd be extremely beneficial as my follower, she'd be a huge threat as my enemy. She'd be a constant threat..." he ended in a whisper as if he wasn't just talking about himself anymore.
"What do you mean?" she asked shakily.
The man smirked again, "She'll be the greatest weapon the wizarding world has ever seen..."
"Shut up," Hermione said weakly with tears continuing to trail down her face, "It probably won't even be fulfilled!"
The man shrugged and started in a gentle voice, as if he felt sorry for her, "This is all Potter's fault, you know. If you would have fucked anyone but him then you wouldn't be in this position right now. But… I guess I can't chastise you. After all, you are giving me a very gracious gift-"
"Shut up!" Hermione had had enough. She reached for the counter and quickly grabbed the knife, wielding it threateningly at the man.
She was about to thrust it into his chest but he was too quick. He lifted his gleaming hand and shot an invisible force at her that caused Hermione to slam back into the cabinets and slump to the ground. The knife was summoned out of her hand and Hermione again was left defenceless.
She scooted back, one arm draped around her stomach. A cold trickle was moving down the back of her head and she figured the hit had cut her open.
"No need to get all protective," the man said referring to the way she had her arm across her stomach. "I will not harm you or your baby any more. Too much stress can't be good for an expecting mum, right?" he asked mockingly.
"Now, before I go," he said kneeling down next to her, "Let me tell you that I will be watching you. If you try to run for it, I'll kill you, Potter, and I'll even go back and find your parents in London. All after I rip your daughter from your stomach and have you watch her drown in your own blood. Understand?"
Hot tears flowed down Hermione's cheeks as she kept her head from moving. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
"I hope that's a yes Hermione," he said in a gentler tone. "Now keep my secret weapon safe," he reached a hand forward to touch her stomach but she slapped it away.
He reared his arm back and connected his hand with her face. Hermione jerked her head back from the power of the slap.
"See what you made me do?" he asked in an uncaring voice. He stood up and walked back towards the front door. Before he disappeared from Hermione's vision he turned back to her, "I'll be in touch soon Hermione."
With that, he opened the door and left the flat, the folder of the baby's information clutched securely in his grasp.
Once the door was closed, Hermione broke down into heavy sobs, blood from the cut on her head and the one on her lip intermingling with her tears. She grabbed anxiously at her stomach and hoped beyond hope that this was one prophecy that wouldn't be fulfilled.
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Harry could feel something prodding him in the back. He groaned and tried to open his eyes only to discover that they were extremely painful and heavy to open.
"'Ey, you alive man?" said a Boston accented voice.
"Wha?" he mumbled deliriously, finally managing to open both his eyes. He was still in the alley and now instead of several cloaked figures reigning over him there was a much older, terrified looking man gazing down at him.
"You alright sonny? Looks like those muggers got you pretty bad. That's a nasty gash on your forehead," the gentleman said pointing at Harry.
"You seen 'em?" he asked, trying to push himself up. The man offered his arm and helped Harry into a sitting position. His body was aching so badly he thought he must have been bruised from head to toe. Looking around, he found the ground stained a dark red colour.
His blood.
"Nah, but I've heard there have been a few bad beatings in the area lately. The police haven't had much of a lead on 'em though."
Harry reached up a shaky hand and touched his head gently. He remembered cloaked figures, curses, and the sonogram. They burned the sonogram...
Oh god.
"I have to get home to my girlfriend," Harry said quickly, trying to brace himself into a standing position.
"You should probably call the cops and report-"
"No!" Harry cried in pain as one leg gave way underneath him causing him fall back down.
"Easy there sonny," the man said, helping to regain his stance. "I'd say you have a fairly decent concussion. You should probably go to the hospital-"
"I need to go home," Harry said more forcefully, trying to move one leg in front of the other but finding it very difficult. Every time he breathed he felt a poking sensation which made him believe that some of his ribs were broken. He tried to balance himself with both arms but his left just wouldn't lift up properly. Looking over he noticed it was about 2 centimetres lower than it should have been.
The man watched and winced as Harry nearly toppled over a few times, "Here, let me drive ya. Where ya live?"
"By the gardens," Harry said in exhaustion, leaning against the wall for support. He didn't have time to sit in a car for ten agonizingly long minutes, waiting to get back to his flat. He needed to get there now to see if Hermione was okay. But knowing that he couldn't very well apparate in front of the muggle and the fact that if he did, he'd probably splinch his entire left arm off, he allowed the man to help him down the alley and into his car.
Nearly ten minutes later, the elder gentleman had pulled up in an old truck to Harry's apartment building. Harry opened the door and limped out of the car.
"You need help inside?"
"No, I'll be fine," Harry gasped out as he closed the truck door, bracing himself to walk.
The man gave him one last uneasy look before saying, "Take it easy, alright kid?"
Harry jerked his head, "Thank you."
The man drove away as Harry moved as fast as he could, ignoring the pain throbbing all over his body, up the stairs and into his hallway. He stopped short when he seen that the front door to their flat was slightly ajar.
Oh god...
Harry pushed through the door, his eyes quickly scanning around for anything out of the ordinary. Everything seemed okay, but something unsettled him greatly...
"'Mione?" he called loudly, stumbling further into the flat. He was on his way to the bedroom when he heard a sob from the kitchen.
"'Mione?" he asked again, limping as quickly as possible toward the kitchen.
His heart stopped when he saw Hermione sitting against the bottom cupboards, her bloody head in one hand while the other clutching her stomach. Harry also didn't fail to noticed the knife laying on the ground a ways from her.
His face dropped, Please, God no…
"Hermione?" he choked out, falling to his knees and grasping onto her shoulders, ignoring the pain shooting through his arm and chest.
Hermione finally lifted her trembling head to look at Harry. When she saw the state of his battered body she let out a breathless gasp.
Before she could ask him what had happened, he shook his head and ran his hands down to her stomach, "The b-baby?"
The word alone seemed to send Hermione into another fit of hysterics as large tears streaked down her face, "Oh god, Harry- he-he… our baby…"
"Hermione, what?! Please tell me what happened! Who's he?!" Harry cried desperately, wanting to shake the information out of her.
Hermione placed a hand over her mouth and stared up at Harry with wet, squinted eyes, "H-he wants our baby-"
"What? Who's he?!"
Hermione crunched her face up as more sobs swept over her, "A w-wizard. He- wants the baby."
The paleness of Harry's face turned to a chalk white at Hermione's words.
"No…"
Hermione's face crumpled again, "He s-said he would either take her or kill her."
As tears of his own streamed down his face, internally, Harry was fuming. He was going to hunt down and kill the person who dared threaten the life of his child… his daughter.
Instinctively, he jumped to the possibility of it being a Death Eater- or at least one of Voldemort's old supporters that was able to escape Azkaban.
So help me, I will hunt down and murder everyone of those bastard's if it takes the life of me… "Hermione," Harry voiced, trying to refrain from shaking, "What did he look like? Tell me what he looked like!"
Hermione shook her head, barely audible, "He was cloaked in black. I-I couldn't see his face. H-he had… it was like a sil-silver hand…"
Harry stiffened in fury, Pettigrew, that son of a bitch…
Hermione again shook her head, seemingly knowing what Harry was thinking, "H-he sounded young. About our age…"
A neo-Death Eater. Fuck, I should have known groups like that would start to form- bastards just can't let go of the fucking past…
"Harry?" Hermione asked weakly. Harry raised his eyes to her and could see that she was damn close to passing out, "What are we going to do? He wants our baby Harry… our baby…"
Harry placed two bloody, dirty, and sweaty palms on the sides of Hermione's soaked face, "Well, he can't have her."
"Why is this happening to us?" Hermione cried as sobs again raked over her body.
Harry's heart sank. This obviously wouldn't be happening to her if he wasn't involved. If this was anyone's baby but his, then there'd be no problems. Again- his life was being dictated for him and it was directly affecting his loved ones. His child…
"H-Hermione," he started, forcing himself not to join in with her sobs and ignore the pain now shooting throughout his whole body, making it hard to breathe, "Tell me everything that happened. I want to know everything the bastard said to you."
Hermione clenched her eyes shut and breathed deeply through her nose, preparing to relive the worst night of her entire life.
---
Fifteen minutes had passed. Hermione had managed to tell Harry everything in full detail and Harry, in return, told Hermione about being attacked in the alley by the restaurant. It was pretty evident that the text by Kevin was fake- something that unsettled Harry more than he let on.
That meant that these people were watching them very closely while Harry and Hermione didn't even know who these said people were. As of right now, they were completely helpless.
Afterwards, Harry had attempted to carry Hermione back to the room, but found her weight to heavy for his fragile state. Instead he summoned his wand, immensely draining him of energy, and performed a few rudimentary healing charms on Hermione's scratches and bruises before turning the spells on himself.
His legs still felt like lead and he could tell something was broken in his chest, but for Hermione's sake, he kept quiet and helped her into the bedroom to lay down, urging her to try and relax.
"Harry?" she called out of the open bedroom door as she saw Harry saunter into the hallway and lean against the wall. The way his breathing came out in short raspy pants worried her.
Using the wall as a guide, Harry stumbled his way into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, dropping his head in his hands.
"Harry, what were you doing?"
"Wards," he muttered stoically.
"You think that will help?"
He shot her an annoyed look, "I have no fucking clue what would help us right now."
A hurt look shot over Hermione's face and she turned her head from him. He sighed, wanting to apologize but not finding the voice.
All he really wanted at that moment was to wake up from this terrible dream…
"Here," he said, holding out a glowing blue phial, "drink this. You should get some sleep."
Hermione eyed the dreamless sleep potion, and didn't utter one word of protest as she let the liquid slide down her throat. She too wanted to wake up to find this night one big, horrific, fabrication.
Harry breathed a pained sigh of relief as he watched her gently close her eyes and rest back on the pillows. He went to get up from the bed but her dreamlike voice stopped him.
"Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"Please don't leave me…" she whispered, looking at him through half closed eyes.
Harry bent down to kiss her hand and then scooted closer to her on the bed, "I won't."
He wanted to hold her, kiss her, whisper to her promises that he would protect her.
But could he? Did he hold the power to protect her and their baby? His family?
Hermione squeezed his hand one last time before being induced to sleep.
Watching her sleep peacefully next to him, with her baby bump protruding from underneath the covers made his mind finally snap into focus. He had to protect her. He didn't have any other choice. She didn't deserve this. Neither of them did…
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