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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
- 19
- 20
- 21
Time’s Up, by Gotbooks93

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 they find out.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Hermione had never been particularly fond of making split- second decisions. She would much rather plan events out, organizing details and anticipating possible problems. But standing in front of the fireplace at Zabini Manor, one hand linked with Xander’s, the other clutching a fist full of floo powder, Hermione had very little trouble making a decision. When she had found Berlios’ letter to Blaise, revealing their manipulation of her, she had felt confused and betrayed.

But mostly, she had just felt very, very angry.

In the scant minutes that had passed, her anger had cooled a little, allowing her room for reasonable thought. Part of her wanted to take Xander and disappear to Kenya, or set fire to something within the Manor. Something expensive. Logically, she knew both of these responses were dramatic, immature, and rather stupid. Still, they were rather tempting.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione resolved herself to act like an adult. Never mind she could feel her heart crumbling into tiny little pieces; there would be time to cry. Later. For now, they had to get out of there.

She tightened her hand on Xander’s and pulled him into the floo with her; their action spurred a long, high- pitched whine from Duke, who stood with Brutus behind them. Both dogs looked at them with big, sad eyes, and Hermione stifled the desire to bring the dogs with them. She had a plan, and needed to stick to it.

After checking to make sure her silent son was ready for the journey, Hermione stated their destination in a loud, clear voice.

“Headmistress McGonagall’s office, Hogwarts!”

~(o)~

At the sound of the floo activating, Minevra McGonagall and Poppy Pomfrey looked up. Much to their surprise, Hermione and Xander Granger stepped out moments later, brushing soot from their clothing as they did so.

“Hermione, Alexander, what a pleasant surprise!” the headmistress exclaimed, her Scottish brogue thicker than usual, belaying her shock. She set down her tea cup, which clinked slightly as it settled into its saucer. She and Poppy had designated Friday nights as Tea Night years ago, and were steadfast in their devotion to their old ritual. “I was under the impression that you would be residing at Zabini Manor for the weekend.”

“Things have changed, Minevra.” Hermione replied evenly, watching as Xander made his way toward Madam Pomfrey. Although it had been years since the mediwitch had babysat him, the two maintained a close bond. Dropping his school satchel on the floor, Xander sat down next to her and plucked a cookie from the tea tray before setting his amber eyes on his mother.

“Please excuse me for disturbing your tea, but I have something to talk to you about, and time is of the essence.” Hermione continued.

McGonagall just nodded firmly, leading Hermione further back into the office, closer to her desk. She lowered her voice as she spoke, aware of their audience. “My dear, how may I be of assistance?”

“I would like to add Blaise Zabini to the school’s persona non- grata list for the time being.” Hermione replied evenly. “Certain facts have recently become known to me, and I’d like to take some precautions.”

McGonagall frowned deeply, but extracted the enchanted list from her desk drawer. “Do you believe Mr. Zabini is a danger to any students or staff within the school?”

Hermione paused, and shook her head reluctantly. “Not a danger, per se, but I believe it would be in the best interest of both myself and Xander to maintain a distance between us.”

The headmistress said nothing, but looked steadily at Hermione with cool, grey eyes.

Hermione sighed impatiently, her eyes darting to the clock on the desk. “Minevra, I know the list is supposed to be reserved for emergencies, but I need a night to prepare myself. You can take his name off the list in twenty- four hours. I should be ready by then.”

After looking at Hermione a moment longer, Minevra plucked a quill from her desk and added Zabini’s name to the list. The school’s wards would prevent him from physically entering the grounds, by floo, broom, or foot. Hermione gave a sigh of relief as Blaise’s name glowed gold before fading back to black.

“Hermione, I have known you for a great many years, and thus think myself rather qualified as a judge of your character. You are reliable, level- headed, and have a good heart. However, one of your greatest downfalls is your pride. As it is not my business, I can neither encourage nor discourage your relationship with Mr. Zabini.” McGonagall’s voice was steady, but stern. “However, as someone who had lost love before, I would like to offer you this advice: do not take happiness for granted. While it is possible, and even advisable, to keep one’s wits around them in times of stress, one cannot dictate the path of love. Do not let yourself miss out on love, for that is an action that you will never forgive yourself for. Take it from an old woman who knows.” Again, she paused, letting her words sink in. “Now, I suspect Alexander’s bedtime is approaching, and you likely have things to take care of, so I bid you goodnight.”

Hermione nodded silently, turning back to Xander and Madam Promfrey, who had remained on the couch and were talking quietly. As she moved back toward her son, Hermione’s eyes caught on one of the portraits of Headmasters and Headmistresses on the wall. Most of them were dozing in their chairs, or whispering amongst themselves. Albus Dumbledore, however, was smiling softly at McGonagall, his blue eyes twinkling. Feeling as if she were intruding on an intensely personal moment, Hermione looked away.

After saying their goodbyes, Hermione and Xander departed the office. They made their way through the sparsely populated halls before arriving at Hermione’s rooms. Pausing in the doorway, she turned to Xander. He had been silent up to that point, and it was starting to worry her. “Why don’t you go get ready for bed, darling?” she suggested softly, her eyes sweeping over his face.

Still silent, Xander headed down the hall, the door to his room clicking shut. Hermione fluttered around the room for several minutes, vanishing dust off of the bookshelves and picking up various pieces of clothing that seemed to have accumulated without her notice. She was just straitening a picture frame to the correct angle when Xander cleared his throat discreetly behind her.

Sitting down on the sofa, Hermione gently patted the cushion beside her, carefully watching the expressions on his young face. Hermione often had to remind herself that her child was just that- a child.

“So I think we should talk about what’s happening between me and your dad.” Hermione opened cautiously, trying to stay casual. Xander nodded somberly. “I found out something today that might be a problem between he and I, and I think maybe it would be best for us to stay separate until we straighten them out.”

Another silent nod. His eyes were big and anxious on his face.

“But I don’t want you to worry. Your father and I will always love you, no matter how things turn out between us.” Hermione continued. The silence stretched between them. “Do you have anything you want to ask?”

A long, silent look. Then, “I’m going to see Seth on Tuesday, right?”

Hermione hesitated before nodding.

“I think I’m okay, then.”

The words cut deep. But maybe it would be better for him to talk to someone outside the situation. Hermione forced a smile, kissed his forehead and smoothed her hand over his curly hair. “Off to bed, then. Don’t forget to do your meditation. I love you.”

~(o)~

An hour later, Hermione was seated at the table in her kitchen, absently stirring her tea. Her leg jiggled restlessly and her stirring was causing a small whirlpool in the teacup. A stack of graded essays sat in front of her, the scores at the top of the page a little lower than usual- she may have been a bit harsh in her emotional state. After all, she didn’t usually deduct points for ‘unnecessary comma use’…

Glancing at the clock, she noted that it was approaching ten o’clock, and spurred herself into action. She stood quickly and dumped her now- tepid tea into the sink, cleaning the mug and replaced it in the cupboard. The rest of the rooms were only illuminated by a candle or two, and the crack under Xander’s door emitted a tiny spark of light. Reading by flashlight again, then. Deciding to let the sneakiness go, Hermione made her way through the rooms, extinguishing candles as she went.

Shutting her bedroom door behind her, Hermione took a look around. It was definitely messier than usual; several tops were draped over the back of her reading chair by the window, and three books had fallen off of the bookshelf. Shoes lay unpaired and scattered around the floor, and the countertop of her bathroom strewn with various hair care products and makeup.

For a second, Hermione wondered wildly when the rooms had become such a mess, before a realization came upon her. Apparently, she had put her usual housekeeping standards to the side in honor of Blaise’s full participation in their lives. The common areas weren’t terribly messy, but her room was looking like the site of a natural disaster.

Well, no more.

Setting her wand down firmly on a side table, Hermione slowly began to restore order to the room. She re- hung clothes on their hangers, matched shoes and replaced them on their racks, and sorted her hair products by height, then color. The bed’s sheets were changed, table tops were dusted, and rubbish was placed in the bin.

After changing into a pair of well- worn fleece pajama bottoms and a royal blue camisole, Hermione was feeling much more peaceful than before. Her thoughts had apparently organized themselves as she put the room to rights, and she felt rather good, all things considered. Surveying the room, she acknowledged that it was no use putting off the inevitable any longer.

Sitting cross- legged on her bed, she cast an Expecto Patronum at the air in front of her. The charm hardly took any real effort anymore. The thought of holding Xander for the first time often filled her with such happiness that her otter patronus would spout from the tip of her wand with no effort.

This time, however, the otter only appeared weakly before flickering and fading a moment later. Frustrated, Hermione re- cast the charm, only to encounter the same results. She tried to ignore the reason why, feeling weak. Just as the joyful feeling of Xander’s birth would enter her mind, another thought jointed it: Blaise had a copy of the event. Blaise, who had manipulated her, using her as a perfect cardboard cutout for his little family. Blaise, who probably didn’t really love her at all…

Maybe she wasn’t as collected as she had lead herself to believe.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione closed her eyes and called the memory to the forefront of her mind, she attempted to re- live that night in June.

~(o)~

It was in the wee hours, a little before four o’clock in the morning. Hermione’s body ached, her muscles tired; a rather understandable reaction after enduring seventeen hours in labor. Molly had puttered around the room, straightening the freshened sheets on her bed, while Ron dozed in the visitor’s chair to her left. Mr. Weasley and Harry were sent downstairs for coffee, and Luna was speaking with the St. Mungo’s mediwitch in the doorway. Most of the other Weasleys had been shooed home by Molly after hearing the news: mother and son were both doing well, and Hermione had named him Alexander Thomas. No, no one knew why she had picked ‘Alexander’. They were allowed to return when it was a decent hour.

Hermione’s eyes had begun to droop, feeling as if they were made of lead. The pain potion the healer had prescribed was working wonders, but also made her sleepy. ‘Perhaps I could just rest my eyes for a moment’ Hermione thought dazedly. For a few precious minutes, her mind dipped into a pool of refreshing sleep. She stirred back awake a second later, her consciousness jogged by a sound nearby.

Prying open exhausted eyelids, Hermione focused on the person in front of her. A young woman, dressed in mediwitch robes, stood next to the bed. In her arms, a bundle of clean blue blankets squirmed restlessly. It took her an instant to recognize what it was. Her heart gave a happy lurch when it came to her- this was her son, her baby. After nearly ten months of tiresome pregnancy, he had finally joined the world.

“Ms. Granger,” the mediwitch said gently. “Would you like to hold your son?”

Immediately, Hermione was feeling much more awake. She nodded quickly, sitting up straight in the hospital bed. The young woman placed the still- squirming bundle in her arms, pausing a second to make sure the new mother’s arms could support him.

Hermione ignored her completely, entranced by the little, scrunched- up face in front of her. Someone had taken the baby away and cleaned away the blood and milky white goop before wrapping him in a silky- soft baby blanket. One of the baby’s hands was curled around the edge of the blanket, and Hermione gently smoothed one of her own fingertips over the tiny fingernails. His eyes flickered behind their lids for several moments, and Hermione watched, fascinated. Then, quite suddenly, his eyes blinked open. They squinted immediately, and Molly, watching on, flicked her wand and dimmed the lights.

Hermione looked into the eyes of her baby for the first time. They were still newborn blue, and didn’t seem to be focused on anything in particular, but darted around him before settling somewhere on Hermione’s face- her left cheek, maybe.

Seeing him looking at her, Hermione began to silently cry. “Welcome to the world, little one.” She whispered, her voice choked. A hand smoothed over Hermione’s head, and she looked up. Molly looked at her, eyes brimming with unshed tears.

“I wish my mum and dad could be here.” Hermione whispered suddenly, afraid to break the serene feeling of the room. “I just- I just want them here. And…and I want Blaise here, too. I know I shouldn’t but I really do.” She continued, fervently. “It’s his son too, you know? And I’m so bloody sc- scared that I’m going to mess up.” Hermione was openly crying now, her tears landing noiselessly on the baby’s blanket.

“Oh, lovvie,” Molly crooned. “Now isn’t a time for tears. Now is a time for joy. You have a healthy baby boy, and everything is going to work out just fine.”

Hermione nodded, taking a deep breath. She smoothed her fingertips over a tuft of dark brown hair swirled on his mainly- bald scalp, and his barely- existent eyebrows. Tracing his features. The baby’s eyes stayed riveted on her, darting from the dark cloud of her hair to somewhere a little left of her nose. After a few minutes, the baby shifted in his blanket again, and his eyes drooped closed. His mouth began to move a little in sleep, and his right index finger twitched.

“Isn’t he just the most perfect, beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” Hermione asked to no one in particular. Again, she counted his tiny fingers and toes, a sort of deep joy settling into her bones.

~(o)~

It was that deep joy that flowed into Hermione’s wand as she cast the charm again, calmer now. The silvery- white otter formed steadily in the air, patiently waiting. Hermione took a minute, deciding on a message and sending the otter into the dark night.

She got up from her bed, took down her hair, and brushed her teeth thoroughly. The action called her dentist parents to mind, and she decided to owl and schedule a meal with them. Harry and Ron, too, now that she thought of it. That task accomplished, she slipped into bed and flicked off the light. Surprisingly enough, sleep found her quickly, and she dreamed of blue- eyed babies.

~(o)~

Nina’s Tea Shop, located on Nightingale Road in London, could be found only a few blocks from the Leakey Cauldron. The air in the little shop was heavy with the calming scent of chamomile tea, and smooth muggle jazz music sounded overhead, muted. There were two other couples in the shop- one composed of teenagers, the other of a sweet- looking elderly pair. In the corner, a dark haired young man who just screamed ‘tortured soul’ scribbled out music notes on a napkin, and a middle- aged woman rocked her baby girl while reading a book.

Sitting in her booth alone, Hermione prepared herself.

The location was logical- Hermione had first dragged Blaise into the shop during their seventh year at Hogwarts, and the little muggle café had been used for numerous rendezvous in the years following. A pot of her favorite jasmine tea sat on the table, and its soothing taste calmed her thoughts into order.

She would be very mature. She would be reasonable and calm. She would let him say his piece, and be open to the fact that she misunderstood Berlios’ letter. True, the letter had been rather straightforward, but maybe Blaise’s actions had only corresponded with Berlios’ suggestions by coincidence.

‘Yeah, right.’ A corner of her brain snarked, and she pushed the thought away. She needed to keep level- headed, and be a good listener. However, she would not allow Blaise to manipulate her any longer. As a top- notch lawyer, he was a rather fantastic manipulator, but she would prevail.

Looking down at her attire, she felt her confidence bolstered a little- she wore a dark red shift dress and black stockings, along with pretty black heels. Her hair was pulled into an elegant, smooth knot, and her makeup was light. Knowing that she looked good gave her a little boost of confidence.

This confidence was only reinforced when Blaise strolled into the shop, looking dapper in a pair of pressed black slacks and a light grey sweater pulled over a button down- shirt. His hair was styled into its usual wind- swept curls and his shoes reflected the overhead lights.

She didn’t stand up to greet him, and he slid into the booth across from her. The waitress- her name card read ‘Chloe’- swooped over, he ordered black coffee, and their silence continued to stretch. Hermione rather wanted to look away from his burning golden gaze, but was afraid it would be taken as a sign of weakness.

Upon the return of their waitress with his coffee, Blaise broke their eye contact, and took a sip of his coffee. Grimacing a little at the generic taste, he set the mug back down on a napkin. She did the same with her tea cup, and the staring contest re- commenced.

“Do I need to explain why Xander and I left last night?” She asked, breaking the oppressive silence. He looked at her steadily, and she could see possible responses formulating in his mind. Apparently the truth won out.

“I cast a revealing charm on my desk. It showed that you had touched my great- uncle’s letter, along with just about everything else in the drawer.”

“I didn’t start with the intention to snoop around.” Hermione replied. “But now, I’m glad I did…Is there anything you’d like to say in regards to the letter?”

A part of her was screaming, ‘Tell me it’s all a misunderstanding! I love you! Please!’ but her face remained impassive.

Again, the gears in Blaise’s mind seemed to turn, showing in the deep pools of his amber eyes. Then, shifting forward a little, he rested his well- toned forearms on the table and clasped his hands.

“Hermione, I need you to understand something.” He began, his tone serious. “What I have been doing is for the best.”

Hermione gasped in outrage, her heart crumbling with that sentence. That wasn’t the one she had hoped for. “For the best? The best for who?”

Blaise’s lips pressed together in displeasure, but he didn’t seem too terribly surprised. “I want you to listen, and listen closely. What I’ve been doing is the best for all of us. I know you, probably better than anyone else. And I know that if you hadn’t found that letter, you would have been very happy with the end result of my plan. We would have all been a family, and a happy one at that. My ring would have been on the finger of the woman that I love, and my son, my heir, would have been under his family roof, as he should be. We could finally be the family we were always supposed to be. You would have been happy; I would never have rested until I knew your days were filled with joy. You could quit teaching at Hogwarts and-”

“Excuse me?” Hermione cut in sharply. “Why the hell would I quit my job? I love my job. It challenges me every day. I get to share knowledge and sharpen the skill of the future of wizarding society!”

Blaise exhaled sharply in exasperation. “Hermione, you’re always saying you wish you could spend more time with Alexander. Besides, you’re so far above grading papers and slaving over lesson plans.”

“Oh, yes, because it takes so much more effort to be a glorified housewife.” Hermione sniped sarcastically. “Blaise, I just can’t believe you’ve been manipulating me this whole time. How dare you-”

“Oh, I dare, cara.” Blaise interrupted, eyes blazing. “I dare because during those years apart from you, I lived a half- life. I dare because I want you by my side. I dare because I want you to be happy. Is that such a crime? Yes, I didn’t tell you every little bit of my intentions. But you always seem to forget that I’m a Slytherin, and I’ll do anything to achieve my goals. I know what’s best for you.”

“I am not a possession!” Hermione said loudly, before lowering her tone. “Blaise, you need to realize something: even if your plan did work, and I never read that letter, what you’re doing isn’t right. A relationship is a partnership, not a dictatorship.”

“It doesn’t matter, either way. The end result is the same. Or, it would be if someone didn’t go sticking their nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Doesn’t belong? I dare say my nose did belong, considering I’m the topic. And it’s does matter, how the ends are achieved.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Does.”

“Doesn’t.”

“Does.”

They sat in silence, glaring at each other over the rims of their respective mugs. Around them, the shop’s other patrons continued on, apparently oblivious to the tension.

“We can go around like this all day, but the fact remains that you manipulated me into the role you want me to play.” Hermione stated, a little calmer than before.

“If your pride-”

“My pride?”

“Yes, your pride.” Blaise said, his voice deadly even. “If your pride weren’t such an obstacle in this, we could carry on.”

“Well excuse me for being proud of my accomplishments. Being able to support both yourself and your child with a Mastery is hardly anything to sniff at.”

“Hermione, everyone knows how clever you are, and how hardworking. No one can take that from you. But by marrying me and becoming the mistress of the manor is much less stressful and time consuming.”

Hermione looked down into the bottom of her tea cup, as if seeking the answers to life’s problems. Finding none, she sighed and looked up, feeling tired. “Blaise, if that’s what you want for us- for me- I don’t know if this is going to work. Maybe I will want to retire from teaching one day, maybe give Xander a sibling, and stay at home. I don’t know, yet. But I do know that’s not what I want any time in the near future, and I don’t like that you’ve been making all of these decisions for us without consulting me.”

Blaise just looked at her, taking in her slumped shoulders and defeated expression. “So that’s it, then?” he said quietly.

Hermione paused, wondering how they had gotten into the current situation. Finding no other options, she gave a sad smile. “Yeah, I… I guess it is.”

They sat in silence again, and Hermione took a sip of her tea, although it had gone cold long before. Looked out the window.

“There is one other thing we need to discuss.” Blaise said quietly, evenly.

Hermione raised her brows expectantly, and he continued. “No matter what happens between us, I’m going to be a father to Alexander. We’ll need to get a custody agreement drawn up, and I still intend to name him as my heir.”

Hermione said nothing, her mind suddenly reeling. Her silence stirred a little fire back into Blaise’s eyes.

“Hermione, I warn you,” He began, his tone deadly. “Alexander’s mother or not, I won’t hesitate to take you to court if you fight me. And I think we both know who will win. I’m not asking to keep him all the time- maybe just the weekends. I can be reasonable. Can you?”

Hermione nodded reluctantly. “I don’t think I have the heart to cut you out of his life, even if I could.” She admitted. Still, the thought of sharing Xander twisted something inside her. “What would naming him your heir entail?”

“He would inherit everything that’s mine, to start. And he’d have to come with me to the annual family gatherings. Add ‘Zabini’ to his surname. He’d be added to the Zabini line officially, and granted all the privileges and protection that comes with the name. Most of its legal stuff that wouldn’t take real effect until he’s old enough, and he could still live with you.”

Hermione swallowed hard and nodded. “Owl me the paperwork, I’ll look it over.”

Blaise nodded and raked over her with his eyes, seeming to drink up every inch of her appearance. She couldn’t meet his eyes. After several long moments, Blaise pulled out a muggle bank note and threw it on the table. More than enough to cover both their drinks, plus a nice tip for the waitress. Standing, he took one long look at her.

“I love you.” He said without adornment.

Hermione met his eyes, nodded. “I know. I’m sorry.”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Blaise’s mouth. “Me, too.” Unexpectedly, he bent over her, and pressed a kiss against the crown of her head. His lips lingered a moment too long before he straightened.

Then Blaise Zabini turned and walked briskly out of the shop, hands thrust deep into his pockets. Outside, Hermione watched him pause at the sidewalk, look for cars, and continue on his way.

Leaving her behind with nothing but a cold pot of tea and a shattered heart.

Translations:

“Cara” (Italian)

-A term of endearment- dear, darling, etc.

Chapter Twenty Author’s Note:

Hey Guys,

Well, there you have it. I said to one reviewer: Blaise makes a fantastic ‘hero’ to this story, but he is not perfect. He’s a great dad, and he tries to be a good person. But he doesn’t always do it the right way. Blaise’s need for control is part of him, and he can’t always be prince charming. But don’t despair- there’s still hope.

I must say, that was the most emotionally draining chapter I’ve ever written. Some (most) of you likely hate me, but this is all part of the plan(if you look back, I’ve kind of been dropping hints about this since around Ch.10). Right now, I think I’m going to give myself a thirty chapter deadline. So ten chapters to go, tops.

I’d like to thank everyone for all the feedback this story has been getting! It makes me so, so happy to hear from all of you. I’ve been seriously slacking on my responses to reviews, but maybe next chapter will pick things up a bit. So leave a review, and you’ll get a sneak- peek of Ch. 21.

I’m afraid to say my unexplained two- month absence before is going to stay that way: unexplained. It’s not something I feel comfortable sharing, so please respect that.

Next chapter will be posted on either Monday or Tuesday of next week. Sunday, if my muse sticks around long enough. See you all then.

Jusqu’ace que nous nous reverrons (It’s French, in case any of you ever look these up)

Gotbooks93
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