"She was a Resistance terrorist trained throughout Europe to become a healer specialised in deconstructing Sussex's curses; not to mention that she had a Potion mastery. If she could take apart and neutralise a curse, she could also use it. If you'd been so curious you could have asked me," he said in a cold voice. "Psychologically torturing her is not going to give you answers, particularly since she has no memory of it. Your program is not an opportunity to exact revenge. You appear to have forgotten that I do not suffer fools tampering with her."
"I wasn't—"
"You were. The Dark Lord placed her under my care. You are aware of how precarious she is. I have gone to considerable expense and effort to maintain her environment. Given that Dark Lord made no objections when I executed one of his marked followers for interference, do you really think he'd trouble himself over you?"
Stroud's pallor grew deathly. "My program—"
"Is a farce." Malfoy sneered as he said it. "The reason you didn't die alongside your 'colleagues' in Sussex is because your proposal failed to qualify as scientifically sound enough to qualify for a laboratory there. Where are your controls? Or your statistics and historical data? The spectacle you're so willing to provide the society pages is funded and staffed to easily carry on without you." Malfoy's eyes glittered viciously as he spoke. "This is the only warning I'll offer. You are no longer permitted to be alone with her. Today's appointment is over. If you have new instructions regarding her care, you'll give them to me. Topsy!"
The House-elf appeared with a crack. Malfoy didn't remove his eyes from Stroud.
"Escort Stroud to the drawing room. I'll be down when I'm done dealing with the situation here."
Stroud huffed, but she was still pale and her hands shook as she gathered her files. As the door shut, Malfoy turned back to stare down at Hermione. She had stopped crying and was trying to breathe steadily.
He gave a low sigh and then pulled her to her feet.
"Come," he said as he led her across the room to her bed, studying her carefully before reaching into his robes and withdrawing a vial of Dreamless Sleep Draught. "Considering recent events I'm afraid I don't trust you conscious and alone. Take this."
Hermione extended a leaden hand and accepted the vial but then stared down at it hesitantly. Her breath kept hitching.
"Some Potions can result in fetal abnormalities. I don't — remember whether Dreamless Sleep is safe," she said in a wavering voice.
"It's fine."
She glanced up at Malfoy. How on earth would he know that?
He met her eyes. "I was concerned something like this might happen if you ever got pregnant. I verified it."
She continued to hesitate.
"I'm not asking. If you refuse I will make you," he said in a hard voice.
Hermione pressed her lips together and swallowed hard as her chest continued to stutter. She unstoppered the vial unsteadily and brought it to her lips. As soon as she swallowed the contents, she choked and burst into tears again. The vial slipped from her hands and plunged down onto the floor, shattering.
"Oh god..." She sobbed into her hands as the potion hit her system and overtook her mind like a black tidal wave. She sank onto the bed. "Oh god...oh god...please."
Her eyes slid shut as she continued to cry. She was dimly aware of her legs been lifted up onto the mattress. Darkness swallowed her.
"
Chapter End Notes
He tasted of firewhiskey by minxchester.
"Don't, Granger, don't," by enselius.
Do not hurt yourself by incendiosketches.
"I'm Sorry, Granger" by _knar.m_
Half-stripped and aroused by dragonly.art.
When Hermione opened her eyes, it was late evening. Turning her head, she found Malfoy standing in front of the portrait on the wall, speaking to it in a low voice.
The witch in the painting immediately caught sight of Hermione's movement and gestured over his shoulder. He stopped speaking and turned on his heel to stare at her.
He looked tired and singularly unenthused by his impending fatherhood.
Hermione felt as though she were going to be sick.
She squeezed her eyes shut, curled into a defensive ball and tried not to start crying again. She could hear the clipped sound of Malfoy's shoes as he crossed the room and approached her bed.
There was a long silence and she could feel his gaze on her. She tucked her chin down against her shoulder and willed him away.
“You are not allowed to hurt yourself, or do anything to cause an abortion or miscarriage.”
It was not a statement, it was a command. She could feel the flush of heat around her wrists.
“I'm sure you'll try to rationalise it as being protective in an attempt to get around the compulsions, but it is not. You are not allowed to do anything to end your pregnancy.”
She could feel the prick of tears in the corner of her eyes and sobbed faintly.