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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Hermione snuggled further into Harry’s arms and stared up through the holes in the thatched roof of their hut. They’d been with the tribe for a month now and were finally getting closer to speaking with the elders. She thought they’d pulled off being married quite well, except for the sex part, and the village chocked that up to him being sick.
She was extremely worried for Harry. Without the weekly healings, he was going downhill fast. He’d already lost so much weight despite her desperate attempts to try and fix what she could. She just didn’t have the training or access to the potions she needed to keep Harry at prime condition. He was always skinny but now he looked nearly skeletal, even worse than when they were on the run and had nothing but berries and mushrooms to eat. He was also tired and cold all the time, despite taking multiple naps and the rising temperatures.
Even the villagers were worried for him. The elder of the village proper had offered to marry her if Harry didn’t make it but Harry declined. He’d said that he’d already arranged for his brother to marry her in his stead. Hermione had to bite her tongue when Harry started describing Malfoy as his brother. She wanted to hex him to Antarctica for that one, but he was thinking about her safety and she couldn’t blame him there.
The baby kicked her hard and she hissed in pain, sitting up to try and get him to reposition. It was no use though. The only way the tike settled down was if Harry was sleeping on her stomach and he was so weak he could scarcely sit up anymore. She leaned over and kissed Harry’s temple before covering him up and leaving her hut. A walk would be the only relief she’d get now.
At seven months pregnant, she was starting to feel like a beached whale. She wasn’t waddling yet but the ladies in the village insisted that she would start soon. She was surprised at how quickly they were taken in and shown daily life. Maybe it was her desire to learn everything she could about their culture but she thought it was probably the desperation in her eyes when she’d explained Harry’s sickness to them. He was fading fast and they were running out of time.
She came to the end of the village, as close to the House of Words as she dared, and stared at the sky. The stars were different here, something she had known but still found fascinating. She wished Professor Sinestra were still alive. She’d contact her and have her send charts of the heavens. They were beautiful here, even without the enhancement of a magical telescope. Something in them gave her a sense of peace, though she wasn’t sure why. Here she stood, seven months pregnant with the first half-blood bastard Malfoy. She was on a strange continent in a strange village with strangers who were slowly becoming her friends despite the harsh culture shock. Her friend, the savoir of the wizarding world, lay dying in a hut just a few hundred feet away.
If only she could find a way to create that damned potion. She’d spent months pouring over that fucking journal. Even now she studied it every night by the light of the torches in the village. The women joked about her obsession and the men shook their heads in disapproval but she didn’t back down. The recipe for the potion was emblazoned in her memory but she still couldn’t produce it. She’d written a cryptic message to Minerva weeks ago asking her if Dumbledore’s portrait had any leads on what they’d discussed previously. The answer came back as gloomy as ever just today. No. Dumbledore hadn’t been able to locate anyone capable of casting the modified dark spell. So here she stood, waiting for the villagers to build enough trust in her and Harry to take them to the elders. She just hoped Harry lasted that long.
“Stupid girl.”
She froze, unable to even breathe. She’d heard that voice before. Only now, it was reserved for her nightmares of a time less pleasant. It wasn’t possible.
“You’re growing careless in your advanced state.”
She swallowed and turned to see a cloaked figure standing a few feet behind her. The night was softly illuminated by the full moon, accentuating the height of the figure speaking to her. She took a shaky breath and shook her head in disbelief.
“More like shock… Professor Snape.”
The figure chuckled darkly and lowered his hood, revealing the visage of a man she’d thought long dead. She drank in his dimly lit features, hoping that this wasn’t a dream. The man he used to be was wholly unpleasant but she desperately needed his help.
“I take it this is why your portrait remains still?”
“Astute as always, Miss Granger. Or should I call you Mrs. Potter?”
She sighed and looked back up at the sky, not wanting the man to see her cry. “I think we both know what my name is.”
“Then why the charade?”
“Tribe laws,” she said curtly. “I believe you might have heard of them.”
“And the Malfoy that grows in your stomach?”
She gasped and spun to stare at the man. “How did-“
“The prick of your finger wasn’t just to seal the spell, Miss Granger. I needed to know if you were under the influence of anything. Your condition was just a bonus.”
She snorted and absentmindedly rubbed her belly as she turned again. “Some bonus.”
“I take it you haven’t told Draco?”
She shook her head, dashing her tears. “No one was supposed to ever know.”
“Well, that’s hardly the case now. Potter might be dense, but he isn’t a complete idiot.”
She sighed. “He knows everything. It’s only fair.”
Snape stepped forward and joined her in her examination of the sky. “Why, might I ask, are you keeping this pregnancy a secret.”
“I’m carrying a half-blood,” she said sharply.
“You believe Draco would make you abort?”
“I…” she looked down and studied the grass beneath her feet. “I don’t know what he’d do but I know it involves some sharp words and… probably more.”
Snape sighed and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Draco might be many things, but a murderer he is not. He would never strike a woman, much less a pregnant one, especially if she carries his heir. I think that deep down you know this. I think… you’re running scared.”
She jerked away and stared into the night. “The only thing I’m scared of is losing Harry.”
He hummed and crossed his hands behind his back. “How far has the disease progressed?”
“As far as I can tell, most of his stomach is gone. I’m not sure why the deterioration is so rapid. They gave him three years.”
Snape hummed. “That was taking into account the weekly healings, potions regimens, and complete isolation from the magical world.”
She gave a sardonic laugh and threw her hands out to gesture to the rainforest surrounding them. “How much more isolated could you get?”
“There are powerful wards at work. I imagine Potter’s core is responding to them.”
She gasped in horror. “What have I done?”
“What needs to be done,” Snape said. “The tribe is taking Potter to the elders tomorrow. He should meet the healer there.”
She turned and studied him for a while. “How do you know this?”
Snape sighed and pulled out his wand, fingering it thoughtfully. It was an absentminded movement, one she’d grown familiar with in class. Somehow, fingering the ebony wood seemed to focus his mind. She couldn’t say much. She’d chewed quills and muggle pens to bits for the same reason.
“I became a member of the Fang tribe long ago, while I was healing Miss Frobisher. It took me two and a half months to gain the tribe’s trust and I was only able to do so after I arranged for her to come here so the tribe could lay eyes upon her. We were lucky the cancer stayed in the ovaries and she was healed before Vicky was born. But in all those years, I still haven’t managed to work myself into a position to ask for a favor. Alas, I believe it is me who still owes them.”
“So you needed Harry to plead his own case.”
Snape nodded. “I make potions for the tribe on occasions that call for it. If they deem him worthy of healing, I shall make the potions for him as well.”
“Then why give me your journal?” she asked in frustration. “It’s been driving me insane.”
“Did you read the brewing instructions?”
She blinked in shock. “It takes two to brew it.”
Snape nodded. “And one of those persons must be…”
“A pregnant woman,” she whispered. “But… but why?”
Snape raised an eyebrow and motioned his hands to her stomach. She nodded warily and allowed him to lay them upon her rapidly growing bulge. The little tyke inside her kicked with all his might, letting her know that he felt Snape’s power. It was much different from the soothing feeling she got when Harry snuggled against her. It was extremely uncomfortable but she allowed the contact.
“A mother-to-be is a very magical creature indeed,” Snape said, his voice low and silky. “You can feel it, the subtle power around you now. The baby is feeding off of your magic, but he is powerful in his own right. Maryssa Frobisher felt the same, despite the rapidly spreading cancer. But your case is much different than hers. Potter had a piece of the Dark Lord’s soul living in his body for sixteen years. It boosted his core, twisted the very nature of his magic. He will require much more power and skill to treat him than Maryssa did. So it only stands to reason that I’ll need one of the most powerful witches of the age to help.”
“And I’m pregnant,” she said flatly.
Snape nodded. “It might not seem that way, but your condition is fortuitous. I was most pleased to learn of it from your blood.”
She sighed. “Why would you want to help Harry?”
Snape pursed his lips. “I’ve not forgotten my vow, Miss Granger, loathe though I am to admit it.”
She nodded, choking back a sob. “He’s been through so much. He deserves life. We all do.”
Snape nodded, his hands still on her stomach now gently rubbing circles in an effort to sooth the restless babe inside. “It took me a year to realize that myself, Miss Granger. And perhaps a little prodding from a meddling old fool.”
Hermione dashed the tears from her eyes. “I’m glad you’re alive sir.”
Snape nodded but his face was solemn. “I’ll not do this for free, Miss Granger.”
She sighed, her heart sinking into her shoes. Of course he wouldn’t. He was still Snape after all.
“Name your price.”
“Two things. No. Three.”
She winced but nodded just the same. She’d give anything right now to help Harry. “Go on.”
“First, you are to never tell a soul you found me. I’ve started over. I have no wish for anyone to know of my existence.”
“You know,” she said softly. “You were post-humorously exonerated.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And do you know how I would be treated if I were to return?”
She snorted. “As a spectacle I’d imagine. Fine. Done. I’ll take an oath if you’d like.”
“After the potion. I don’t want to exhaust your strength just yet.”
“Ok. Next?”
“I might have started over but I am in need of funding.”
She shook her head, angry tears welling up in her eyes. “I don’t have a knut. Harry had been paying for this entire trip-“
Snape held up a hand to stay her tirade and then lowered it back to her stomach. “I didn’t say I wished you to pay. I merely need a way to earn it.”
“What do you propose?”
“A partnership,” Snape said. “I might be removed from the wizarding world but I still remain informed on current events. You have not chosen a career path yet. Why is that?”
“No wish to be kept in a gilded cage, I imagine,” she murmured, still angry at her prospects. “They want to use me for their own gain, monetarily, politically, and otherwise.”
He hummed. “I can’t say my offer is much different.”
“It is,” she said quietly. “Because you have something I truly want. So name your terms and I’ll lock the door myself.”
He nodded, his hands still rubbing soothing circles on her stomach. She found that the more he rubbed, the less she cared. The little freeloader had stopped doing somersaults in her womb, probably calming down from the influx of magic Snape was inadvertently putting out and the motion of his surprisingly warm hands. She could tell that he didn’t have any ill intentions and his efforts seemed to be helping the deep aching that she’d been experiencing since around the fourth month of pregnancy.
“As you know, I have several patents on different rare potions, the majority of which are extremely protected. No one knows the recipes and no one is allowed to brew them without my express permission and guidance. What I’m offering is an apprenticeship of sorts. After the child is born, I wish to teach you these potions. Afterwards, you may brew and sell them to whomever you like. We would split the profits.”
She furrowed her brow. “I don’t understand.”
Snape frowned. “What’s not to understand? I’m offering you a chance to become a potions master and a way to earn a living.”
“I know,” she laughed in disbelief. “I just, I don’t understand why that’s a demand? I mean, if you just wanted me to sell your potions and give you all of the money, that I could see. I could see me setting up a dummy company in my name that would allow you to operate anonymously from anywhere in the world. But offering me an apprenticeship… you’ve never offered that to anyone in your entire life. And you’ve never liked me. Why? Why would you offer that? You’re helping me save the one man you can’t stand. If anything, that’s more of a burden for you than a demand.”
Snape merely stared at her for several minutes, his hands now making long lines across her stomach until she was nearly vibrating with curiosity. “So is that a yes?”
“Of course!” she squeaked. “But-“
“My reasons are my own,” he said, effectively cutting her off. “Just know that there would be benefits to me beyond your short sighted assessment. Shall we continue?”
“Y-yes, Sir,” she said, thoroughly chastised.
She didn’t know how he managed to do that. She was twenty now, hardly a child, and yet he’d cowed her with a few sentences. She supposed she’d better get used to it. He’d be her Master for years to come. Merlin. Potions Master. She had never seen that one coming. Still, there was one more condition and she was so close.
“Are you quite finished with your mental road trip?” Snape growled.
She blushed, though she knew he couldn’t see it in the dark. “Sorry. Please continue. The third condition?”
“You must tell Draco of his son.”
The air left her and she swayed a moment. Snape steadied her but he said nothing. He meant it. She’d have to do the one thing she’d been dreading since that blue potion had slid down her wall. She had to face her ex-lover… with his child.
“H-how long do I have?” she whispered.
“How long do you wish for Potter to suffer?”
She gulped and reached down to hold her stomach, jumping when she grabbed Snape’s hands as well. He didn’t move them so she just trembled and stared at them.
“What if he…”
“What do you fear the most, Miss Granger? That he’ll shun you or that he’ll shun the child?”
She scoffed. “I hardly care what he thinks of me.”
Snape chuckled. “I’d say he thinks quite a lot of you, if your state is anything to go by.”
“This was a drunken mistake,” she snapped.
“That didn’t stop,” Snape said, smirking when she gaped at him. “I know my godson quite well, Miss Granger. He can be very persuasive.”
She shook her head. “This child is innocent. He doesn’t deserve his father’s scorn… or his grandfather’s wrath.”
“You leave Lucius to me,” Snape said smoothly. “As far as Draco is concerned, you gave him a chance once. Why take it away now?”
She sighed and nodded. “I can hardly contact him here. And there is your state to consider.”
“You let me worry about my state. As far as contacting Draco, are you a witch or not?”
“And the village? They’ll burn me at the stake.”
“About thirty minutes outside the village there is an abandoned hut. It was used long ago for prayers and healing but it was abandoned years ago. The villagers only leave it standing in memory of the woman who used to live there, a powerful spirit healer, Kothbridge’s grandmother I believe. Women sometimes go there to pray for help for their sick children and mates. Your journey there would not be scrutinized.”
“And if I’m followed?”
“The tribe believes in solitude for personal prayers.”
“How am I to contact him, though? An owl took a month.”
Snape finally let go of her stomach and reached into his cloak, producing small compact mirror. “Just say his name, his first name, and he’ll be there.”
She took the compact with a shaking hand. “I hardly feel right telling him over the mirror.”
“Versus not telling him at all?”
She nodded and pocketed the mirror. “Thank you… Professor.”
“Thank me when Potter is healed.”
She nodded and turned to walk back towards her hut.
“Miss Granger?”
She turned and tilted her head in question.
“I’ll expect payment either way.”
She nodded and turned again. It wouldn’t be a hardship. She just wished it didn’t have to be this way.

AN: You guys knew I couldn't kill off Snape. ;) But I might... I have once. *evil grin* Anyway, sorry for the delay. In between the two jobs and the tests and having to take it a little easier than normal, I just haven't had time to write. Don't give up on me just yet. I'll get the next chapter of Junkies out as soon as I can. As always, thanks to everyone who has reviewed. I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far. Keep them coming and let me know how I'm doing. Until next time... love you guys.
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Three Conditions