Chapter Text
Dawn's light had not yet pierced the curtains of Severus Snape's chambers when Hadria's eyes fluttered open. A wave of nausea washed over her, so potent it seemed to churn the very air around her. She lay still for a moment, hoping the feeling would pass, but it clung to her, insistent and unrelenting. With a sense of urgency, she remembered the door at the back of the room, its purpose clear in her mind. She needed to reach it - now.
Her movements were swift, a stark contrast to the languid rise of morning. The sudden motion jolted Severus from his slumber. He had fallen asleep in a nearby arm chair with a glass of fire whiskey which now spilled down his coat as he watched the girl run to the bathroom. Hermione who had been asleep next to her woke up as well from the commotion.
"Hadria?!" she called after her concern and looked at Severus confused. The sound of retching filled the room, a harsh symphony that echoed off the stone walls. Hermione's eyes grew wide and she was at her side in an instant, her hands gentle as she gathered Hadria's hair away from her face
"It's alright, get it out," she soothed, her voice a steady presence amidst the turmoil.
Hadria's body convulsed with the effort, her breaths coming in ragged gasps until, at last, she slumped back, the cool stone of the wall a small comfort against her heated skin. Tears, born from the force of her sickness, glistened in her eyes as she reached for the rag Hermione offered, its warmth a fleeting balm.
"You don't feel to have a fever...do you have any other symptoms, Hadria?" Hermione's concern was palpable, her hands now checking for signs of fever. Hadria took a few calming breaths and thought about it.
Her mind raced as she considered the question. "I...well, I don't know. I suppose I've been feeling a bit queasy the last couple of weeks, but I assumed it was from nerves and the training. It's been intense lately, I just feel so tired all the time," she admitted, the confusion evident in her furrowed brow.
Hermione nodded, her voice soft. "Yeah, you did sleep really heavy last night, so we decided not to bother you. Voldemort said to let you sleep," she recounted, watching Hadria for a reaction.
"Is he still here?" Hadria's voice was hopeful, seeking some anchor in the storm of her thoughts.
Hermione shook her head, her own uncertainty a shadow in her eyes. "No, I believe he went back to the Manor," she said and then bit her lip nervously before continuing.
"Hadria...um...have you considered... well... could you be pregnant?" The question hung in the air, delicate as a spider's web.
Silence stretched between them as Hadria processed the words. Memories flickered behind her eyes, moments and decisions replaying in the quiet of the chamber. "I...well, no, I hadn't considered it...I suppose I very well could be. He used to use the charm to keep me from getting pregnant. Then he suddenly stopped...I told myself maybe he had a different way of doing it... but... if I'm being honest...I think I was glad...I think deep down a part of me perhaps wanted that with him," she confessed, her voice a whisper of realization.
Hermione's reaction was immediate, her eyes reflecting the gravity of Hadria's admission.
"Then it's settled. We should find out for certain," Hermione asserted, her voice a blend of concern and practicality. "Knowing the truth will ease your mind, and it might just explain the unease you've been experiencing."
Hadria nodded, the idea of certainty a small beacon in the fog of her emotions. Yet, the absence of Voldemort, the silence he left in his wake, gnawed at her with cold teeth.
"Yes, the hospital wing might have the answers," Hadria agreed, her voice a mere whisper, betraying her inner turmoil.
It was then that Severus's voice, laced with caution, drifted from the adjoining room. "Miss Potter, I don't mean to intrude... but perhaps this is a matter best kept discreet for the moment. If you permit, I can perform the diagnostic charm to ascertain whether you are indeed with child," he offered, his tone suggesting a protective secrecy.
The offer hung in the air, a crossroads of choices. Hadria considered the privacy Severus offered, the walls of his chambers a potential shield from the prying eyes of the world outside. It was a tempting offer, one that promised answers without the risk of exposure.
Hadria's voice was hesitant, a reflection of the turmoil within. "Yes actually... I think perhaps you are right," she conceded, her resolve firming as she stood. Hermione was quick to offer support, guiding her to sit on the edge of Severus's bed, which was neatly made, the dark covers smooth and unwrinkled.
Severus had shed the formal layers of his usual attire, now appearing more approachable in his simple white shirt, the top buttons undone in a rare display of casualness likely due in part to the spilled whiskey. His posture in the armchair was relaxed, yet his eyes remained sharp, ever the observer.
Hadria's gaze turned to Severus, her curiosity piqued by the night's unresolved mysteries.
"What happened with Dumbledore last night?" she inquired, her tone laced with a mix of concern and a desire for answers.
Severus exhaled slowly, the weight of the information he held evident in the brief pause that followed.
"Very little, I'm afraid," he began, his voice steady and measured. "The old man had the foresight to obliviate his own mind of the prophecy and of the night your parents were killed. Essentially, Voldemort found out nothing new. He's been sent to Azkaban for the time being," he revealed, the news carrying implications that rippled through the silence of the room.
The revelation hung heavy in the air, a testament to Dumbledore's cunning and the lengths to which he would go to protect the secrets he held dear. It was a move that spoke of sacrifice and strategy, leaving Voldemort with no new leverage and Dumbledore in the cold confines of Azkaban.
Hadria's nod was slow, heavy with the weight of unfulfilled hopes. The truth of that fateful night remained shrouded in mystery, Dumbledore's secrets sealed away by his own hand. It was a bitter pill, laced with the sting of frustration, yet not entirely unforeseen. The old wizard had always been a master of concealment, his foresight as much a fortress as the walls of Hogwarts itself.
Severus rose, his movements deliberate, the air around him charged with the gravity of the moment.
"Why don't you lie back on the bed so you're a bit more comfortable?" His voice was a gentle command, a soft note in the tense symphony of the chamber.
Hadria complied, reclining upon the bed, her body supported by the soft pillow, her mind a whirlwind of emotion. Hermione, ever the steadfast friend, took her place beside her, her grip firm and reassuring. In her touch was a silent promise of solidarity, a beacon in the storm of uncertainty that raged within Hadria.
Severus, now the arbiter of truth, stood poised with his wand, the instrument of revelation. He uttered the incantation, "Graviditas Revelio," his voice barely above a whisper, yet it resonated with the power to unveil the hidden. A glowing orb materialized, its light a gentle caress as it hovered over Hadria's abdomen. Time seemed to stand still, the room holding its breath as the orb began to pulse—a rhythmic glow that echoed the beat of a tiny heart.
Hermione's smile was a sunrise, breaking through the shadows of doubt. She met Hadria's gaze, and in that look was a world of emotion...joy, wonder, fear, and hope intertwined. Hadria, entranced by the pulsing light, felt a connection to the life within her, a bond that transcended the chaos of their lives. It was a heartbeat, a promise, a new beginning...her child's heartbeat.
Hadria's smile lingered as the magical orb dissipated into the air, its glow a fading memory.
"I must go to him," She rose from the bed, her determination casting a new light in her eyes. The news she bore was not just a whisper of life, but a testament to the love that had blossomed in the most unexpected of soils. She was to have a child with the man who had become her world, and though words of love had never passed between them, their bond spoke louder than any declaration could.
Severus's nod was one of understanding, his dark eyes reflecting the seriousness of the situation.
"Indeed, it is imperative that you speak with him without delay," he concurred, his voice carrying the authority of experience.
"Apparition; however, is out of the question. The risks it poses to the child are too great. We shall use the Floo Network from the headmaster's office. It is a safer passage for you now."
Hermione's embrace was a fortress of comfort, her arms wrapping around Hadria in a protective shield. "Everything will be alright, Hadria. This is a good thing," she whispered trying to reassure her friend.
Severus turned his gaze to Hermione, his hand gentle upon her cheek...a rare gesture of affection from the stoic professor.
"And you, little Gryffindor, " he said stroking her cheek softly. "It's about time you went back to your common room before the others think you've gone missing. The students have all been released back to their rooms but are being restricted to the common rooms for the day to give us time to....sort everything out with the transition."
The stone walls of the Potions classroom seemed to absorb the tension in the air as Hadria, Severus, and Hermione made their way out. The corridors of Hogwarts, usually buzzing with the chatter and laughter of students, were now silent, the quiet so profound it felt like a physical presence. Hermione's departure was swift, her wave to Hadria a fleeting gesture of camaraderie in the midst of upheaval.
Severus, his black robes billowing behind him, led Hadria through the dungeons with a purposeful stride. The portraits that lined the walls, once vibrant with the moving figures of past headmasters and notable witches and wizards, now bore expressions of solemnity and concern. Their silence was a stark reminder of the gravity of Voldemort's takeover, and Hadria felt a pang of guilt for the part she played in it all. Yet, she held onto the belief that the school would recover, that peace would eventually be restored.
As they ascended from the dungeons, Hadria broke the silence with a question that had been burning in her mind. "How did everything go at the ministry?" she inquired, her voice echoing slightly off the stone.
Severus's response was as calm as the surface of the Black Lake on a windless day. "It was taken without much of a fight at all. Pius is already in command as we speak," he reported, his tone betraying no emotion as they neared the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the headmaster's chambers.
With a word, the gargoyle sprang aside, revealing the spiral staircase that led to the office above. They ascended together, the steps seeming to carry them not just upward, but forward in time to a future uncertain and fraught with change.
Inside the headmaster's office, Severus's demeanor softened as he approached the fireplace. His hand on Hadria's shoulder was a rare gesture of support. "Good luck, Miss Potter... and...congratulations," he said, his voice a gentle murmur that contrasted with the usual sternness.
Hadria, her heart a tumult of emotions, nodded her thanks. She reached for the floo powder, the fine grains glittering like tiny stars in the dim light of the office. Standing within the hearth, she cast the powder down, the green flames springing to life as she spoke the destination with a newfound resolve.
"Malfoy Manor," she declared, the words carrying her away in a swirl of emerald fire, towards the man she loved, towards a future unwritten.
The Malfoy's living room was steeped in the quiet opulence that spoke of ancient lineage and power. Lucius, ever the embodiment of aristocratic poise, barely glanced up from his morning paper as Hadria materialized from the green flames of the fireplace.
"Ah, you're back Hadria. I hope you're well?" His casual inquiry about her well-being was as much a part of the decorum as the fine china from which he sipped his coffee.
She smiled, her mind a tumult of emotions.
"Yes Lucius, I was just very tired from the events of the evening I think...do you know where Voldemort is?" she asked anxious to see him. He thought for a moment.
"I believe he was in the study last I saw him," he said as he went back to his paper and sipped on his coffee.
Lucius's nonchalant direction to the study did little to quell the storm within her. With each step towards the heavy oak door of the study, her heart pounded louder, a drumbeat echoing her mounting excitement and dread as she stood outside the door and took a deep breath. But nothing could have prepared her for what happened next.
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