Atonement

I stared up at the ceiling above my bed, happy that that conversation was over and done with. It was probably one of the most awkward, embarrassing moments of my life.

I smoothed my hands over my abdomen, thinking about the new life growing there.

***

"That will be all for tonight. Meditate every day and before you go to bed. Next Saturday, same time, same place." The following Saturday came not a moment too soon. My last obligation before I could sleep was taken care of.

Or not.

I turned to see who had knocked and said, "Oh, hey. What can I do for you all?"

"Well," Luna said, at the end of the line, and hesitated.

"Why are you out of the tournament?" Harry asked.

"Sit," I ordered. My disciples obeyed. With a flick of my wand, the door was closed and soundproofed. "What I'm saying goes no farther than this room, clear?" They murmured assent, and I continued. "You all know what happened the night of the Yule Ball." I examined their faces for a moment. "I am now facing the most common consequence for that."

"You have AIDS," Luna blurted.

"No, that's been taken care of," I assured her. Pomfrey had fixed that earlier in the year. "Another likely outcome of sex?"

"Pregnancy," Draco said.

"Hole in one. Four, maybe five."

"Holy-"

"God-"

"What?"

"Exactly," I said. "Glamor charms keep it from being noticed. With my Time-Turner, I'll deliver sometime in July."

"Damn, Hermione," Draco said, "can't you ever catch a break?"

"Guess not." I shrugged. "Remember, nothing goes past this room." With that, I left.

When I fell into bed after finishing my schoolwork, I was exhausted. I slept almost ten hours, waking only when my alarm went off to remind me to get to breakfast. Not that I needed it-I was ravenous.

When I ladled porridge into my bowl, twin redheads sat across form me. "Hello, Hermione," one of them said.

"Good morning, Weasleys." I smothered a yawn. "What are you up to this morning?"

"Homework," one groaned. "OWLs are coming up too fast. Fifth year's a nightmare."

"I bet," I said sympathetically.

"Hey, Granger! Is it true you withdrew from the tournament because you're pregnant?"

I turned slowly to face the speaker. It was a girl I didn't recognize, a third year. The conversations around us had gone silent.

"Where did you hear that load of claptrap?" I asked softly.

"Sally, of course!"

"And where did Sally hear it?"

"Jessica."

"And Jessica heard it from?"

"Mallory."

"Mallory?"

"Suzanne."

"And Suzanne?"

"Patty."

"And Patty?"

"Tom."

"And Tom heard it from?"

"Milo."

"He heard it from?"

"Milly."

"So know we have eight degrees of separation," I said. "Tell me, have you ever played the game telephone?"

"Yes," she said slowly, not seeing where this was going. I almost pitied her for her stupidity.

Almost.

"Then you know how garbled the message becomes," I said patiently. "My reasons for withdrawing are just that: mine."

"But there has to be a reason," she whined.

"There is. A very good one, in fact."

"Why?"

"I don't think you deserve to know." I turned and walked away, out of the great Hall, in disgust.

The Weasley twins followed. "That was great back there, Hermione!"

"Yeah, putting her in her place! Will you teach us how to do that?"

"No." My answer was flat and immediate. I saw them trade odd looks, as if wondering why I had been so definitive in my response. I sighed.

"Look, Weasleys. I'm not in the best mood right now-I just got in a fight with someone I don't even know. I'm hungry, but I'm not about to go back and deal with all the stares. I've had enough of that to last me a lifetime."

"We'll protect you," one said, drawing himself up in what he probably imagined to be a regal pose.

I elbowed him and he stopped his posturing. "Not even you can do that." I meant it as a joke, but it fell flat.

Stupid twin telepathy, I thought as I watched them exchange yet another set of glances.

"Want to play a game of Exploding Snap?"

"I've never played that before."

"You haven't?"

"That's just criminal!"

"Raised as a Muggle," I said.

"Still, though, your friends should've-"

"Stop." I held up a hand. "What friends?"

"Well, you have to have friends," he stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Why?"

"Because-because-" he sputtered, then fell silent.

"See you around, boys," I said, turning to go to my room. "I have too much homework now . . . maybe tonight I'll have time to play."

***

I didn't have time to play that night, nor the next Sunday. As a matter of fact, I lost track of time completely, so when Harry staggered in to the Friday night meeting ten minutes late and told us he needed to get through a maze, I was shocked.

"They were supposed to tell you a month beforehand, not three!"

"They did tell me a month beforehand. Hermione."

"Is it seriously May already?" I muttered. "Harry, I know some spells that will help-stay after and we'll work out a time-but meditate for now."

When the meeting was over, I hopped onto a desk and said, "Sunday night all right? Eight o'clock here?"

"One night a week?" he asked nervously.

"Potter, what do you want me to do?" I asked helplessly. "I'm working with you all Monday through Saturday, along with my sixteen classes, and I'm pregnant to boot. Sunday nights are the only free time I have." I looked at him desperately. "I'm doing my best here, Potter. Get Ronald to help, get Draco to help-hell, get Neville to help. I can only do so much."

"But you have a Time-Turner," he blurted. "You can redo hours-Hermione, please-"

"Potter, do you know how big a toll a Time-Turner takes?" I demanded. "I have half the time most people do to get used to this. Potter, I'm messing with serious wizard law here. I don't ever want to go back to Azkaban. . . ."

"Hermione, I need you. Please," he begged.

"Potter, I can't. I just can't. Please, understand. For once in my life, I have to take care of myself first and other people second. Find other people. Sunday nights at eight o'clock."

***

"This is called the Point-Me spell," I said. "Your wand will spin and point you due north every time. Now, the center will be to the northeast of the starting point, so this is a useful spell."

Once he had gotten that down, I moved to Shield charms and other defensive spells.

"This is all very well and good," he said, "but what if I need t attack?"

"This is why you need to find other people to do this with," I told him. "The majority of attack spells are dangerous pregnant women."

"Why don't you look pregnant?" he asked.

"Glamor charms," I told him. "Same time next week." I bent to pick up my bag, and something cracked. I fell to the floor.

"Are you all right?" he asked frantically, bending over me.

I felt my ribs and hissed-one was most likely either bruised or broken. "Get Pomfrey," I told him urgently, trying to sit up and failing. "Tell her it was a rib."

"Pomfrey. Rib. Got it." He nodded and rushed from the room.

I relaxed as much as possible, laying my head back down on the floor. I took careful breaths, doing my best to not agitate my rib any more.

Several minutes later, the door creaked open. Pomfrey knelt beside me. "Mr. potter says a rib was broken?"

"Broken or bruised," I gasped as she prodded my side. I clenched my eyes shut.

She poked her wand into my side and muttered words in what sounded like Hungarian. A flash of light made her shield her eyes; I felt pretty drained all of a sudden.

"What ha-ha-happened?" I yawned.

"Accidental magic," she replied crisply. "Well, we're now past the point magic can heal you. I was wondering how soon you'd get there."

"This is normal?" I demanded.

She nodded in confirmation. "Afraid so."

"Great," I muttered, "just great."