Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Three Conditions	By : goldhorse Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 48512 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 9
Disclaimer: I do not own anything in the HP universe. JK Rowling does. I just borrow her toys and put them back in reletively decent shape when I'm through. I make no money doing this, which is why I work two jobs.

Chapter List
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“Africa,” Harry said flatly as they got off the plane at Libreville Leon M'ba International Airport. “Why are we even here?”
“Because Dumbledore’s portrait said that there have been reports of a sentient healer here.”
“Why do we need one?” Harry asked softly as he trudged over to the baggage claim behind her. “You said we could just have a few people tandem cast.”
“I want you to have the best chance,” she said softly. “Besides, I don’t know how long it will take to find someone to help us recreate the potion and this will keep you the healthiest until then.”
“Sounds pretty hopeless to me.”
She turned around and narrowed her eyes. “Are you giving up?”
He snorted. “Course not. Someone’s got to teach that kid of yours how to ride a broom. Merlin knows his mother won’t.”
“Harry James Potter, if you so much as encourage him to even look at a broom until he’s eleven…”
He smiled sadly. “I’ll be lucky.”
Her anger immediately fled and she blinked back tears. “Bastard. You know I hate it when you do that.”
He grinned. “Well, it’s a great way to win an argument.”
She huffed and shook her head. “I swear, more Slytherin every day.”
“Says the woman who convinced the wizarding world that she’d disappeared off the face of the planet without any hint of foul play.”
“Well, what else was I supposed to do? I’m showing now. I can’t very well tell them the truth.”
“You know as well as I do that there are spells to hide pregnancies. This doesn’t have to do with the fact that Malfoy came back, does it?”
She glared at him and tried to pick up her bag but he beat her to it. “Of course not. Now let’s go.”
“Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt,” Harry called after her as she stormed through the airport.
She huffed and moved faster, needing a moment to cool off. Harry was right and it still made her mad. What a coward she was, almost six months pregnant and still terrified to tell the father of the baby about it. She also couldn’t hide the bulge of her belly under robes anymore. She was too exhausted most of the time to keep any sort of glamour up and rather than face the ridicule that was sure to come, she’d fled. Dumbledore’s tip had come just in time so she packed up her entire flat and she and Harry were gone the next day. There was no forwarding address and no magical traces of her left. Of course, she’d told her parents and a few select friends she was traveling but not where. They didn’t know she was pregnant either. She just couldn’t disappoint them. And, of course, no one knew she was with Harry either.
She marched outside and hailed a taxi. It took several minutes and Harry had caught up to her by then but she didn’t say a word. She was afraid she’d burst into tears and that was the last thing she needed. Her emotions were completely out of whack these days and she hated it. She hated the prenatal potions she was taking in place of the vitamins her muggle OB prescribed. She hated the ultrasounds, the tests, and everything else baby related. But she couldn’t hate the baby. She could feel him kicking and moving. He was innocent, pure though his conception was anything but.
“Do you know how angry I’d be?” Harry asked just as the cab pulled up.
“Do you know how many times you’ve said that?” she growled. “This is not the same situation. He won’t want this baby. He might even try to kill it.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Lucius could still do it,” she murmured.
Harry sighed. “And once again, I can’t argue with that. After all, the man tried to kill me, too.”
Before he could say the words that she did not want to hear, the driver got out and grabbed their bags. “Where are you needing to go?”
“The nearest Fang village,” Hermione said eagerly. She didn’t want Harry to distract her. Again.
The driver paused and looked at her, down to her stomach, back at her face, and then over to Harry, who look like he hadn’t slept in the six months that she’d been pregnant.
“Are you certain?”
Hermione nodded. “I know it doesn’t seem very wise, but we must speak with them.”
The driver shook his head and started muttering in French about the crazy white people on a death quest. Hermione was glad that Harry didn’t speak French. He would have never allowed her to take this trip with him if he knew the truth but she wasn’t about to leave him. The weekly healings were starting to take their toll and the cancer, while slow, was eating its way through his stomach every day. He had a hard time keeping any sort of food down without a protective barrier on his stomach and with that in place, his body couldn’t break down the nutrients it needed. Nutritional potions could only do so much and Harry was running out of time. She wasn’t sure how they could have given him three years. She didn’t see him lasting one.
“Tell me about this tribe again,” Harry said with a frown as he climbed in the back of the cab.
Hermione sighed and followed, stalling as long as she could. She had merely told him that they were mostly a muggle tribe but contained a small fraction of magical elders. She’d stressed to him that he must not use his magic but she’d left out the part about the Fang tribe rooting out and punishing sorcerers. He hadn’t questioned her directive, especially since any use of his magic would only speed the cancer up. Now it was time to tell him the rest. After all, he couldn’t run very far now and with a muggle cab driver, he couldn’t yell at her either.
“They’re an old tribe of warriors who were forced from Nigeria by the Hausa tribes. Since they were used to the savannah, they had to adapt and eventually took up agriculture to survive. It’s hot, humid, and mostly rainforest where we’re going so we’ll need to be careful about dehydration. They were known for practicing cannibalism, though I don’t believe they’ve done that in centuries. And while they are friendly, they are extremely cautious of newcomers, especially those who wish to seek council with the tribal elders. In the end, if everything works out the way I hope it will, it will be you and them in the House of the Word.”
“They don’t much care for women,” Harry said knowingly.
“They value women very much,” she said defensively. “Each man has more than one wife. The women do the farming and net building and cooking and education. They are integral to the overall health and wellbeing of the tribe.” She sighed. “Just not in a leadership role. They believe that their God, Mebe’e, made everything and then was disgusted with the evil he’d created so he left it to the tribal ancestor to rule. Their ancestors’ bones are kept in special boxes that they claim have powers and if the bones are removed, the power is lost. They make masks to help protect and heal the villages which are fueled by their ancestor’s bones. They expunge sorcery but the elders do ask for help from the ancestors and it is granted from time to time.”
“Does that mean what I think it does?” Harry asked.
She nodded. “They are talented healers, though it isn’t widely advertised. I’m hoping they’ve found some sort of herb or ritual that will help us.”
Harry nodded and pulled her closer to him. He understood and though she could tell he didn’t like it a bit, he’d go through with it. That was the one thing she loved about Harry. He had an uncanny ability to read between the lines. It hadn’t always been that way but after Snape’s death, he made it his mission to try and read people. He didn’t want to make the same mistake again. So when she’d told him the history of the tribe, he’d heard her real story.
The tribe was old, dangerous, and had power. It might not be the conventional magical power they were used to, but it just may be the sentient healing they were after. The trick would be to earn the tribe’s trust and Harry had already guessed that women were not considered leadership material. An unmarried pregnant one would be severely frowned upon.
“We should get married,” Harry murmured, pulling her in tighter.
Hermione laughed sadly. “It’s a little late for that.”
He sighed. “We need to at least pretend, for both our sakes.”
She hummed and nodded. “Fine. But I’m not sleeping with you.”
Harry chuckled. “You’re not my type and you know it.”
She shook her head and gave him a sad smile. “How did Henry take the news of your trip?”
“Since I didn’t tell him, I couldn’t tell you.”
She frowned. Harry had finally realized about six months after the war that he preferred male company. He’d met Henry on a rare trip to the muggle world for some much needed rest and relaxation. She liked Henry. He was the strong and silent type, something Harry needed. He’d had enough chatter and hero worship to last a lifetime. Hermione was proud of Harry, who’d amicably broken things off with Ginny and still maintained a strong relationship with the Weasleys. She hated that Henry didn’t know Harry had left. He didn’t deserve it.
“I know what you’re going to say,” Harry said quietly. “But I just didn’t have the heart to tell him.”
“Why not? It’s just a trip.”
He stared at her for a few minutes. “I think we both know the stakes.”
Hermione swallowed hard and stared out the window at the scenery flying by. He was right. Without his weekly healing treatments, he’d go downhill fast. His core was working overtime to try and beat the cancer but all it was doing was fueling it. And in two months, she hadn’t been able to find anyone who could cast the spell they needed to complete the potion. It was written in explicit details in Snape’s journal, everything from speech infliction to wand movement and intent. But no matter how many times she tried, she couldn’t cast it. The baby was feeding off of her own magic and she couldn’t conjure up enough power to cast it. Well, that and the fact that she just wasn’t any good at dark magic.
Truth be told, she was sure that Harry was both powerful enough and in tune with the darkness that he could cast the spell. But in casting, it would probably kill him. She’d tried to find someone else who could cast it but that was a dead end. The LeStranges had either died or received the kiss and the Carrows were under security so tight that she couldn’t speak with them. They probably couldn’t cast it anyway, considering what Dumbledore had said about their magical ability. The Parkinsons had left the country with the Zabinis and many of the older families had 24 hour monitors that would alert the aurors if any dark magic was cast. That left the Malfoys and she wasn’t ready to approach them yet, not until they had secured a healer… and the baby was born.
She sighed and tried to steer the conversation to much safer items. “While we’re here, we should try to get some ebony bark.”
“Are we low?” Harry asked, obviously thankful for the obvious out.
“No, but it would be much better quality than what we have.”
Harry hummed. “Anything else we could pick up while we’re here?”
“I’ll take a look when we get there.”
The taxi ride stretched on forever and by the time they reached the village, Hermione was ready to scream. Between the bouncing and the jet lag, she needed the loo and a pain potion. The bloody freeloader in her stomach was kicking like a football player and there was nothing she could do about it.
“Here we are,” the cab driver announced. “I would suggest you visit the local boarding house first, get settled in. The tribe will not accept visitors anytime near darkness. Bad luck.”
“Thank you,” Harry said as he paid the driver.
“Good luck,” the driver said before reaching down to touch Hermione’s stomach. “I hope this little one brings peace to you both.”
Harry laughed as the cab pulled out. “That little one is going to give us both hell if he’s even one bit like his father.”
Hermione shook her head and made a beeline towards the nearest loo. The little bugger was going to be the death of her if he was half as naughty outside her stomach as he was inside. He’d caused nothing but morning sickness, fatigue, and muscle cramps since his conception and she had a feeling that he would cause much worse than that once he was born. She still hadn’t decided on a name, despite knowing his gender for months, at Harry’s insistence of course. It didn’t feel like the right time.
She walked out of the loo to find that Harry had already paid for their room. She gritted her teeth and thanked him, though she hated it. He knew damn well she didn’t have a knut to her name, but in true Harry nature, he never said a word. He simply paid and dismissed her before she tried to make promises that she’d pay him back.
The room wasn’t much to write home about, but it was clean. She cast a few cooling charms since it was almost summer in the southern hemisphere. She had a feeling that she’d long for the gloomy winter weather of England in no time. With the added weight and increase in magical output, she was constantly hot. Harry often complained that she was trying to freeze the cancer out. If it were only possible.
“You don’t mind sharing a bed, do you?” Harry asked with a sheepish grin. “I thought, if we were going to pretend…”
She chuckled and shook her head. “It’s not the first time we’ve ever shared a bed, Harry. At least I know that if I wake up with something poking into my back, it’s not for me.”
He sighed and sat down on the bed. “I miss Henry.”
“Then why did you just leave him like that?”
He shook his head. “I’ve already said goodbye so many times.”
She nodded and pulled him into her chest. For some reason, when he laid his head upon her belly, he instantly calmed. She wondered if it was the baby magic or if Harry just took comfort in the gesture. She wasn’t going to question it either way. It worked so she would continue to use it.
“Don’t give up just yet,” she cooed, running her hand through his unruly hair. “This is the first decent lead we’ve had in months. But you know, if we succeed, you’re going to have some major explaining to do once we get back.”
Harry sighed again and snuggled his cheek deeper into her belly. “That’s the other thing. I’m not sure Henry would take the news of my being a wizard very well.”
“Why not?”
“Gin and Ron were over one day before I could get Henry home. Ron decided to help clean the dishes.”
“Which ended in disaster,” she said knowingly. “I’m not sure how Molly could have neglected in teaching her boys to do dishes without breaking them.”
Harry chuckled and sighed again. “Gin yelled at him, of course, and then repaired the dish without thinking about Henry being there.”
“He saw?”
“He saw the dish back in Ron’s hands. Hermione, he turned white. He’s been distant lately, like he’s scared of me. I… I don’t think he could accept it.”
“You never know until you try.”
“And if I try and he doesn’t take it well, then I’d have to call the aurors and have him obliviated and… no… it’s better this way.”
She huffed. “Well, I’d obliviate him for you. No need to call the aurors.”
“Not helping.”
She sniffed and massaged his scalp, smiling when he sighed at her touch. “I don’t know what to say, Harry. My parents were terrified when I started exhibiting magic and I know the Dursleys… Well, not exactly welcoming of magic, were they? But if Henry really loved you, I think he’d try to understand.”
“But then I’d have to tell him about my life and… I don’t ever want to have to explain that again.”
“I could tell him.”
“And then he’d look at me; you know the look. I- I couldn’t stand it, not from him.”
Hermione did know the look. It was a cross between abject fear and overwhelming awe. Having been with him since first year, she sometimes wondered why she didn’t look at Harry any differently. Then again, they’d met at age eleven, before he had such trials and tribulations. She hadn’t seen “The Boy Who Lived” when they’d become friends. She’d seen a mischievous little boy with a nose for trouble and an overwhelming desire to belong. But she couldn’t imagine the pain it would cause Harry to see his loved ones look at him the way the rest of the wizarding world did.
“Too bad Snape isn’t alive,” she mused aloud.
“Yeah,” he sighed. “I’d be cured by now… if he hadn’t killed me yet.”
She chuckled. “Well, there is that, but that wasn’t what I meant.”
“What did you mean?”
“Well, he definitely wouldn’t look at you that way, now would he?”
Harry pulled back with a wrinkled nose and a frown. “That’s just… not right.”
“Oh, come now. Don’t tell me you didn’t think he was sexy.”
“You’re projecting,” he said confidently.
She laughed. “I’m not the one who was wanking with his name on my lips.”
Harry turned beat red. “That’s not fair. I was drugged. And drunk.”
She laughed again and messed up his already atrocious hair. “You just keep telling yourself that.”
He pulled back and crossed the room to chuck a pillow at her. “The man was a bastard. The end.”
She chucked the pillow back and sat on the bed, the smile falling from her face. “So is Malfoy. And look how that one went down.”
He sat beside her and pulled her into his side. “You really should tell him. I’ll bet my inheritance that little tyke is going to come out with blond hair and grey eyes.”
She sighed. “I know, but… I just… I can’t risk it. Not yet.”
He nodded and kissed her temple. “Come on. Let’s get some shut eye. Big day ahead of us.”

AN: So angsty. And cathartic for me. But angsty for you guys. :) As always, thanks to everyone who reviewed. Good, bad, or ugly, they always lift my spirits. Keep them coming and let me know how I'm doing. Until next time... love you guys.
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Three Conditions