Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Time's Up	By : Gotbooks00 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Blaise Views: 23286 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I own many things, but not any recognizable characters, things, or places in the Harry Potter series. Somehow, I doubt that JKR would agree to joint custody…shame, that. Also, no profit is being made from the writing or posti

Chapter List
- 1-Time's Up
- 2-TWO
- 3-THREE
- 4-FOUR
- 5-FIVE
- 6-SIX
- 7-SEVEN
- 8-EIGHT
- 9-NINE
- 10-TEN
- 11-ELEVEN
- 12-TWELVE
- 13-THIRTEEN
- 14-FOURTEEN
- 15-FIFTEEN
- 16-SIXTEEN
- 17-SEVENTEEN
- 18-EIGHTEEN
- 19-NINETEEN
- 20-TWENTY
- 21-TWENTY ONE
- 22-TWENTY TWO
- 23-TWENTY THREE
- 24-TWENTY FOUR
- 25-TWENTY FIVE
- 1
- 2
- 3
Time’s Up

Summary: After successfully hiding the existence of her son for eight years, Hermione is out of luck and out of time. When the father of her child discovers her secret, their quiet worlds are changed forever. Will things become better, or worse? Join Hermione and Xander as she finds out.

CHAPTER TWO

“Wh- what?” Hermione asked, horrified.

“Oh, honestly, Granger. I told you I knew who it was. Blaise and I were pretty close back in school, and later, during the war. Who do you think covered for him when he snuck away to see you? Yeah, that would be me. So, I get it, you’re shocked, bla, bla, bla. Let’s move on, shall we?” Pansy Parkinson’s patience seemed to be growing thin. “Just be glad I’m not mad about not being Alexander’s godmother. If Blaise had known about him from the start, I would be a shoo- in for the job. But, seriously, you need to figure out a plan. Blaise has been globe- trotting ever since the war ended, but it looks like your luck has run out. I don’t see why you didn’t just tell him from the start, anyway. If you had, you’d have a ring on your finger, and spend your days spending his money and living in Zabini manor, rather than teaching a bunch of brats how to wingardium leviosa feathers.”

“Look, why I didn’t tell Blaise about Xander is my own business. I would be more worried about you telling him, but you probably would have done it by now. So listen up: I have no intention to tell Blaise or Xander about each other any time soon. I’ll tell my son when he’s older, if he still wants to know. But my son and I are both completely fine without anyone else in our lives, and it’s going to stay that way. We don’t need Blaise, and I don’t want him. So, thank you for telling me about his arrival in Britain, I appreciate it. But nothing is going to change.” With that, Hermione spun on her heel and went back into the house.

She listened for any sounds of pursuit, but heard none. Slipping past the still occupied living room, Hermione headed upstairs, passing James and Albus’ room, as well as the empty storage closet. At the end of the hall, she opened the door to the guest bedroom. There, curled up on the bed, was her son. Moonlight spilled onto the bed through the uncovered window. Xander’s face lay illuminated against the harsh white of the bed spread. It always struck Hermione how tense he was during the day, when she saw his face relaxed in sleep.

Softly sitting down on the bed beside him, Hermione carded her fingers through his dark hair. He was undoubtedly the most precious thing in her life- she would do anything to protect him. During the beginning of her pregnancy, Hermione had seen the baby inside of her as a nuisance, something that was going to ruin her life. She saw herself becoming poverty- stricken and unable to go to university, a failure. After living through the war and earning her place among wizarding society, she would become another washed up student, reduced to a menial assistant, or working in some run down shop.

Then, one night, she told Molly Weasley the whole sordid affair. Cried her heart out, bemoaning her future existence, only to have herself dragged out of her chair, given a sharp shake, and told quite firmly, “You will become a failure when doxies become sweet tempered angels. Now, get a hold of yourself. No child of mine will be denied university if they’re determined to have it. Now, how far along are you?”

They had spent that night, and many nights following, devising a game plan. Hermione would sign up for the upcoming semester at the U.K.’s wizarding university, and take a semester of classes. She would have the baby, and finish her schooling in the meantime. She ended up living in the now- empty Burrow with Arthur and Molly, except on weekends, when she would stay with her parents at their home in Wiltshire. Despite the grueling task of raising a child while going to school full time, Hermione made a little extra money doing research for some of the professors at the university, and by substitute teaching at Hogwarts when the need arose.

She spent all her spare time either sleeping or spending time with her son, and from the moment she first felt him kick in her womb, Hermione had fallen in love with the child, and began to work harder than ever. Alexander Thomas Granger came into the world at 3 a.m. on June 8th, after seventeen hours of labor. That squirming, screaming, blood covered thing was the most beautiful creature she had ever seen.

After cramming three years of studies into two, Hermione managed to get an apprenticeship with Professor Filius Flitwick, who was delighted to finally have someone take up his mantle. For years, he had been looking for a replacement so he could retire, and taught Hermione everything he knew. The term after she received her Mastery in Charms, Hermione was appointed the new Charms Mistress at Hogwarts. She had already been living at Hogwarts with Xander for a little over a year, and many of the students had already met Professor Granger’s adorable little boy, who stayed with Poppy Pomfrey when she was working.

When Xander was three, Hermione taught her first class at the age of twenty three. For the past five years, the two had lived happily in their quarters at Hogwarts. Xander had begun going to a daytime tutor with Teddy Lupin for the past few years, along with several other wizarding children, and devoured every speck of knowledge his tutor gave him. Although he had several other friends, none were as close as Teddy. Xander, by nature, preferred solitude, something that Teddy was able to respect. The boy often delighted in directly matching his own appearance to Xanders, something that drove the younger boy mad.

Looking down, Hermione studied her son’s features. While her hair was a light shade of brown, and had to be charmed into submission, his remained dark brown and glossy all the time. Just like his father’s. His eyes, too, matched that of his father’s. The naturally light shade of amber often unsettled people around him, and the color darkened when his temper flared. His nose matched her own, slightly upturned, but lacked the faint dusting of freckles on her own. Or, at least, if he had freckles they were obscured under his lightly tanned skin tone. While Blaise had a slightly darker completion, common for people of Italian heritage, she was pale. Xander had gotten a lovely mix of the two.

He had also inherited his father’s lips and teeth, thank Merlin. She remembered the teasing her own buck- teeth had caused acutely, and was grateful Xander would be spared the same scrutiny. He had gotten her ears, too. While the bottom of her earlobes was unattached from her neck, she distinctly remembered Blaise’s were attached. Hermione remembered stroking his handsome face, as they hungrily memorized each other’s features during those sweet, stolen hours-

‘No.’ Hermione mentally reprimanded herself. ‘Don’t think about that. It’s in the past, and that’s where it will stay.’

Looking down on her son once more, Hermione found herself looking into those enchanting eyes. They were half closed, and Hermione knew that if she didn’t act soon, she would be carrying her son to the floo downstairs.

“Xander, darling, it’s time to go. Let’s get down to the floo, okay?” she gently coaxed him from the warm bed, putting on his shoes and coat. He shuffled down the stairs and to the floo, allowing both Harry and Luna to hug him goodbye before they left. Stepping into the green flames, her child tucked into her side, she waved as she shouted “Professor Granger’s quarters, Hogwarts!”

~(o)~

It was early the next morning that Hermione stumbled out of bed, roused by her alarm. Normally, both she and her son were fans of having a lie- in on Saturday mornings, but, as she had informed Pansy Parkinson the night before, she had a staff meeting to attend. After a quick shower in her in suite bathroom, Hermione dressed in dark-wash jeans, a green long sleeved shirt, and a pretty necklace. Charming her hair into halfway- manageable curls, she shrugged on a teaching robe, and set off.

There were two entrances to Hermione’s personal quarters. The first entrance was connected to her office, which was connected to her classroom. The second was located at the opposite end of the charms corridor, an inconspicuous door next to the main staircases, and while the actual location of the rooms was almost seventy meters from the door, there was no corridor or passageway between the two spots. Hermione decided this was just another Hogwarts mystery, and went on her way. Xander did not. To this day, he searched for the reasoning behind the strange distance gap. Whenever Hermione used this exit, she always smiled, thinking of her son and his plight.

Hurrying down the sparsely populated staircases, she made it to the staff lounge just as the clock struck eight. Slipping inside, she spotted her usual chair on the left side of the room. Sitting down, she observed the other staff members. Minerva McGonagall sat in her chair at the head of the table, the place of headmasters and headmistresses before her.

The old, worn table seated a mix of old and new teachers. Professor Sprout sat to McGonagall’s right, along with Hagrid, Professor Binns, Professor Firenze, Professor Vector, and Madams Hooch, Pomfrey, and Prince. Filch, the old bastard, sulked around in the background, muttering to Mrs. Norris, who wound around his legs.

On the headmistress’ left sat Scott Benley, an American wizard who now filled the Potion’s position. Other new members of the staff included Nadir Gupta, a wizard from India who taught Muggle Studies, and David Fenster, an English wizard who taught Astronomy. Two other newer teachers were Neville Longbottom, who was Professor Sprout’s apprentice, and Lisa Turpin, who taught Transfiguration. Lisa and Neville shared tired smiles with Hermione across the table, having stayed even later than Hermione did at the Potter’s party the previous night.

“Well, there are two weeks left in the school year,” began McGonagall, smiling slightly at her staff’s sighs of relief, “and I will need everyone’s book lists for the student supply lists by tomorrow. Next Monday begins exam week, for which a schedule has been sent to all of your offices. If you could post a copy outside your doors for the student’s benefit, it would be appreciated.”

The meeting moved on to other concerns the teachers held. Professor Vector reported a broken hand rail on one of the staircases, and Hermione commented on the unexpected improving marks of several students, to which several other professors concurred. It was announced that two seventh- year boys were up for staff- wide detention, due to some after- hours flying on their brooms. Both boys would serve one detention with each teacher, every night until the end of the year. Hermione thought this was more fair than not. Normally, the boys would have been suspended for at least a week, which would cause them to miss their N.E.W.T.s, and thus receive failing grades. Hermione thought of some manual labor in her classroom that she knew the boys could handle.

“Two more things,” said McGonagall, near the end of the meeting. “Firstly, we are all required to be present to meet with the Hogwarts Board of Governors on the last Thursday of the school year. Not this coming Thursday, but the one immediately following. Nadir, I know you can’t come, so you’ve been cleared. The rest of you are expected at eight o’clock, sharp. And finally,” the headmistress said, shooting a small smile in Hermione’s direction, “we will all be celebrating the eighth birthday of our own Mr. Alexander Granger on the last day of school, directly following the departure of students. Please meet here at two o’clock for cake and to wish him well.”

There were quiet chuckles around the room, as Xander was a favorite among the staff. Many teachers had families at Hogwarts whist they were professors, and Hogwarts had seen its share of babies, toddlers, and young children. However, Xander was the first child for a long time, and had a large number of adopted aunts and uncles as a result.

“You are dismissed.” Declared McGonagall, and the staff left in groups of two and three, hurrying to take advantage of their days off.

~(o)~

The weekend passed quickly, as usual. Hermione and Xander visited her parents, giving him over to their care while she picked up the last of his birthday presents- she knew better than to store them within their quarters. Xander had the tendency to search the rooms top to bottom when there was something she hid inside. Instead, she stored The Young Person’s Guide to Magical Creatures and his presents in one of her classroom’s storage cupboards, placing a light invisibility charm on them. She would have done the same in a cupboard somewhere in their quarters, but Xander was clever enough to randomly reach into open spaces, feeling around in the seemingly empty air. This had worked for him more than once, and Hermione had to think of new tactics every year at Christmas and on his birthday.

When she apparated back to her parent’s house, she followed the sounds of laughter to her father’s study. On one side of the large mahogany desk sat Xander, his legs tucked under himself, a plate of biscuits in hand and a smirk on his face. On the other side of the desk was her father Thomas, laughing heartily at something Xander had said.

“Do they really?” asked her father, still chuckling.

“Yeah I’ve seen them -“ Xander cut off abruptly, spotting his mother in the doorway. “Mother, you’re back.”

Thomas swirled around in his chair, spotting his daughter. “Hello, pumpkin. How was your day?”

“Fine,” Hermione said slowly, her tone suspicious. “What is it you two were talking about?”

“Oh, nothing.” Said Thomas, obviously trying to suppress another chuckle from escaping.

“Xander?” she questioned her son, eyes drilling into him.

He shifted in his seat, avoiding her gaze. With a quiet laugh, her father interrupted her silent inquisition of the child.

“Oh, give the boy a break Hermione,” he said easily, “he was just telling me about the actions of some of your students.”

“My students?”

“Yes, apparently, some of your older male students get detention with you on purpose, to spend extra time with their pretty, young charms professor. It’s a rite of passage for your seventh years, evidently. Your detentions are the most highly sought out, second only to… er, what’s the chap’s name, Xander?”

“Professor Benley.” Xander mumbled, a light tinge coloring his cheeks.

“Yes, Professor Benley, who attracts the female portion of the student body. The American accent is supposedly quite the attraction.” Her father chortled again, reaching for another biscuit off the plate on his desk.

Hermione was horrified. Her detentions had an undeniable male majority, especially in the beginning of the school year. Well, that would have to be straightened out, come next year.

“Thomas, Alexander, time for din- Oh, hello, darling.” Enter, Teresa Granger. “I’ll just whip up a plate for you, unless you’re leaving Alexander here for the night?” Hermione’s mother made no attempt to suppress her excitement at the idea of having her grandchild stay the night.

Hermione had cast a memory modification on her parents directly before the Second Wizarding War had really commenced. She had barely finished her seventh year at Hogwarts when Voldemort had massacred several hundred muggles in London, thus starting the war in truth. For a year after leaving Hogwarts, Hermione had embarked on a horcrux hunt with Ron and Harry. They acquired and destroyed Slytherin’s locket, Hufflepuff’s cup, and Ravenclaw’s diadem in that year, before joining the Order of the Phoenix to fight the war. Several battles were waged over the next year, and Nagini was destroyed in one of the battles. During those two terrible years that the war raged, Hermione’s parents had lived in Australia, with no idea they had a daughter.

It was only after the war ended that Hermione found her parents, and removed the spell. They had been furious with her, refusing contact of any sort for at least a year. During that year, Hermione endured her pregnancy and gave birth to Xander. When she turned up on their doorstep a year later, cradling her baby, the three had a heartfelt reunion worthy of a Hallmark film. Ever since then, Hermione’s parents had kept in close contact with Hermione, and doted on Xander whenever they saw him.

“I’ll stay for dinner, if that’s all right. But Xander and I need to be getting home tonight, he has exams to study for soon.” Hermione answered her mother’s hopeful inquiry.

With a pout, Teresa ushered Xander out of his chair and into the dining room. Thomas and Hermione soon followed. The four of them discussed Hermione’s last two weeks of term, Xander’s upcoming birthday, and Thomas and Teresa’s annual dentistry conference in Cornwall. Teresa, as usual, tried to convince Hermione to go and meet “a nice young man” on the warm beaches. Hermione, true to form, politely refused. Not long after, she and Xander returned to Hogwarts.

~(o)~

The second to last week of school passed with no major incidents. On Tuesday morning, Hermione caught Xander aimlessly moving his hands around in the kitchen cupboard, looking for presents.

Careful to stay extra quiet, she tip- toed to stand behind her seven year old. Then standing up strait, and channeling the sticky- sweet voice of Delores Umbridge, Hermione loudly asked , “Darling, what is it you were looking for under there?”

His back stiffened, and he immediately stopped moving his hands through the air. Within a second, he had reached forward, plucked a cleaning rag from the pile, and turned an innocent face to hers. “Just a rag, Mother. I spilled something in my room. Don’t worry, it didn’t get on the carpet.”

Hermione had to give the boy credit, he was a half- decent liar. If she hadn’t just seen him looking for presents, she would have been completely fooled. Her uneasiness about his Slytherin traits reared up, only to be firmly squashed by a mental fist.

“Oh, really? Well, how about I grab one and we can clean up together?” not waiting for an answer, Hermione plucked an extra rag from the cabinet and headed for Xander’s room.

The floor plan of Hermione’s personal quarters was cozy, with the windows open during the day and a fire in the hearth at night. Immediately inside the two doors that served as entrances, one encountered a small greeting hall, with a small table and a vase of fresh flowers. This connected to what was the living room, which had long, clear windows that let sunlight to stream into the room, which in turn highlighted the jewel toned couches, overstuffed chairs, end tables, and bookshelves. There were several shelving sections, and each one reached from the floor to the celling. Whenever someone first visited the Granger’s home, they seemed drawn to the large shelves, which were crammed with books on every subject, including arthrimicy, potions, magical creatures, and of course, charms. Hermione kept her more dangerous books on the top shelf, like her updated copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, and books on the Dark Arts.

Branching off of those rooms was the entrance to the kitchen, and a discreet corridor that lead to Hermione’s room, Xander’s room, and the hall bathroom. Xander often asked to have more shelving units put in his room in substitution of his bed, and bring in a fold- away cot to sleep on. Hermione, sensibly, refused this request. His room had a large window that faced the Quidditch pitch, which was next to a large bookcase that had been filled with books he had stolen from Hermione over the years. Several neat towers of books scattered the room. Teddy Lupin often joked that one could read Xander’s mood by the state of the window. If it was open, and uncovered, Xander was in a good mood, and those were the days Hermione could coax him into cleaning his room. On days the window was shut and shuddered, Xander was either sulking or looking to lash out.

Upon entering her son’s domain, Hermione searched for the fabricated ‘spill’, and was shocked to find that there was, indeed, a spill. A glass of water had overturned on his bedside table, and soaked into the covering underneath.

“See, Mother? Not really a job for two. I’ll clean it up right away, promise.” He smiled at Hermione, and moved to clean it up. He subtly shifted to block her view of the mess, and she quickly stood on tip- toe to look over his shoulder. The glass and spill was beginning to fade away before her eyes, and Xander moved his rag aimlessly over the spot. Almost as if… almost as if he had wandlessly created an illusion.

But that was impossible. Her son was seven, and few adults could create an illusion wandlessly, let alone a child. Looking more closely at Xander, she scrutinized his face when he turned back around. “All cleaned up. I’ll be more careful in the future, Mother.” He smiled, but she noticed his eyelids were beginning to droop, and his shoulders slumped. Even though it was only late morning, the child looked exhausted.

Plastering on a smile, Hermione spoke. “Thank you for cleaning that up, sweetheart. But you look tired. Why don’t you take a quick nap?” nodding dully, Xander moved towards the bed, leaving his bedside table exposed. There was no sign of a glass, or a single drop of water.

~(o)~

The following week was hectic for both Hermione and Xander. Hogwarts held their exam week in the first week of June, with results distributed during the next week, during the first week of summer break. Hermione’s students were all cramming for their exams, their O.W.L.s, or their N.E.W.T.s. She hurried to get her student’s exams graded, and her classroom packed up, with help from her two wayward seventh year boys.

Thankfully, both the Charms O.W.L. and the N.E.W.T. in Charms weren’t scheduled until Thursday, so she held study sessions in the evenings on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday.

Xander, too, was studying for his exams that week, which were distributed by the tutoring center he attended. He wasn’t particularly concerned, because he was at the top of his class. Unlike Hermione, Xander suffered very mild test anxiety.

“You’re like your father that way.” Hermione commented offhandedly over breakfast one morning, “He never worried very much when it came to exams, but always got one of the top scores.”

She had Xander’s full attention while she said this, and stood quickly, before he could ask any additional questions. She heard his muted, frustrated sigh behind her as she left the room. Hermione squashed the tinge of guilt she felt for the underhanded tactic.

By the time Thursday evening rolled around, Hermione and Xander were both heaving sighs of relief. Xander was sprawled across their living room couch, mentally contemplating his performance on his exams. Hermione was careful not to relax too much. After all, she still had to go to the governor’s meeting at eight o’clock. She mentally growled in frustration, just thinking about it.

In her five years of teaching, Hermione had attended two governor’s meetings per year. The Hogwarts teachers sat on one side of the room, and the governors and their lawyers sat on the other side, with McGonagall in the middle. There were a dozen governors in all, and many of them brought a lawyer with them, ultimately outnumbering the Hogwarts staff.

The staff, for their part, would field endless questions from the governors and their lawyers, concerning everything from exam schedules and text book choice, to teaching philosophies and course coverage. The whole thing, overall, was a complete waste of time, in Hermione’s opinion. The meetings always lasted late into the night, and as the hour got later and they spent more time in the stuffy, hot staff room, the more snappish its inhabitants got.

After seeing the time was a quarter past seven, Hermione hurried to get ready. The dress code for the meeting was rather formal, and Hermione flung item after item out of her closet, cursing herself for not being prepared earlier.

Finally deciding on a simple black dress, she slipped into her heels.

“Xander, you need to go to bed at eight thirty, alright?” Hermione called as she put in earrings.

“Yes, Mother.” Came the rather bored reply from the other room.

“I mean it, Alexander. If I come home and you’re not sound asleep, I’m taking away all your books for a week.” She threatened, checking her watch again.

“Mmmmm.” was the reply from the couch, as Xander flipped through a book on dragons. Hermione swooped down, kissed him goodbye, and hurried out the door.

Now, if only she could get to the staff lounge in the next ten minutes. On the fourth floor, Hermione took a hidden passageway found behind a statue of Gregory the Smarmy which ended in the same corridor as the staff lounge.

Hurrying through the stone passageway, she inhaled in relief when she saw the doorway leading to the corridor. Then, just as Hermione’s hand touched the door to the exit, she heard a voice speaking directly outside the door.

“All right, I guess we should get in there. Merlin, this is such a waste of time. To think, I could be enjoying my evening with Mandy, and instead I’m stuck with a bunch of bloody teachers. Why the hell are we doing this, again?” the voice held a petulant whine in it, and Hermione vaguely recognized it.

A second voice replied, smooth and low. “Well, Draco, you’re here because your richer-than-God daddy holds you on a very short leash. He sent you to deal with this so he wouldn’t have to. I’m here because I’m the imbecile who agreed to be your legal representation. Now, let’s go. They’re getting settled in.”

“All right, let’s go.”

As the voices faded away, Hermione tried not to panic. The first voice had been identified as Draco Malfoy. The second didn’t need to be identified, because she would have recognized it anywhere. It was the voice that had crooned in her ear, shouted her name in ecstasy, and murmured to her in her dreams for the last ten years. It was the voice of the one and only Blaise Zabini.

Ch.2 Author’s Note:

Hey Guys,

So, I imagine a lot of you are gathering rotten fruits and veggies to throw at me at this point. I know, I’m such a tease. In my defense, you’ll all get to meet Mr. Zabini, himself, next chapter, along with some drama. So please stow your rotting produce and just enjoy the ride.

Also, I’m not a great writer when it comes to dialogue (as I’m sure you’ve all noticed), and most of my story is just narration. Hope it isn’t boring anyone too much.

The response from last chapter made me very happy. I’m not the type of author that holds chapters hostage for reviews, but they really do feed the muse. So leave one, please!

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Time's Up