A/N: Another story, from yours truly!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hogwarts, Draco, Hermione, etc.

Summary: "Granger, what's wrong?" I asked in worry. "What's in your hand?" And something struck me. "Have you been vomiting again?" She said nothing. She did nothing... except hold up her shaking palm, her fingers wrapped tightly around a very blue pregnancy test.

xxxxxx

When You Lose Your Way

Help Me Pull Through

xxxxxx

Wretch, wretch, wretch.

Holy Hell.

Honestly. How many times a day must this go on? The bloody woman's been doing that almost every morning for the past two weeks! I can't get a good morning's rest without her making those disgusting noises ten feet away. She hogs the bathroom for a ridiculously long amount of time, and leaves it smelling like dung. I can't stand living with this Gryffindor!

I was having a terribly bad morning. The hang-over I had from last night (and almost every other night) was killing my poor head. Every noise from the bathroom I heard made my head spin, and made the feeling of a dinosaur sitting on it worse.

I groaned angrily with my lips tightly shut together and checked the clock. It was the same hour as always that she did this. I should have been used to this routine by now.

I got up swiftly from my bed dizzily and walked over to the bathroom door, banging on it like a maniac.

"Granger, what the hell are you doing in there!" I yelled. I heard Hermione jump at the sound of my angry voice. She heard me alright.

Yet no reply.

"I don't know if you've got some hairballs stuck down your throat from that idiot cat of yours, or just bulemic, but it's way too early for this, so could you do me a favour and shut the hell up?"

I barely had enough time before the bathroom door swung open, Hermione standing there looking oddly composed. She did look rather pale, however.

"I'm truly sorry to have disturbed your beauty sleep Malfoy, but I had some bad pudding last night, so could you give me a little more than... oh, ten seconds to get it out of my system?"

I humphed angrily instead of taking a threatening step towards her. If I wanted to get slapped in the face I would have done that by now. When I did so, her face flickered with fear for almost a second, before she took an involuntary step back. The frightened look in her didn't completely go away. I wasn't even that threatening.

"Fine then. Eleven seconds."

She snarled at me and shoved me out of the doors way and slammed it shut.

Women.

xxxxxx

"Well don't you look tired," Blaise commented on me, while shoving me in the ribs. I grimaced slightly, and propped my head in my hands.

"Do you blame me, considering I've been living with a nightmare?"

He laughed, and picked at his breakfast.

"No, I'm not talking about the Gryffindor."

I glared. "Then what?"

Blaise gave me a pitying look and patted me on the shoulder. I gave the spot where he patted me a disgusted look.

"Having some trouble getting over Pansy?"

I snorted. "Please."

He gave me a serious look. "You've been a miserable son of a witch ever since she dumped you mate. You can't honestly be denying that you miss her?"

I stabbed at my eggs and glared down at it. Taking the smart route, I ignored him.

He sighed, aggravated with me, and focused on his own breakfast. About damn time too.

I can honestly tell the truth, that I did not miss Pansy at all. Our relationship was completely for show, and only lasted thus far because of the - benefits - it had. I had no real feelings for her, I'm almost positive. But what surprised me when she gave me the boot, was that I actually felt sad. I came home, drunk with anguish, and brooded over the break up for weeks. It was a really bad time for me, considering the rumours that spread like mad.

While I was finishing up my sausages, three Slythering girls walked past Blaise and I, winking and nudging each other. Blaise and I were delighted.

"Ladies," Blaise said handsomely, as they walked by.

"Hi, Draco," one of them giggled. I winked seductively her way. "Any plans for tonight?" she questioned me.

"Well, now I do," I said flirtatiously.

"Oh... wait," she said, with mock sadness, "I heard you only date for show... and that you get drunk like a fool after a break-up! And only after two firewhiskeys!"

My handsome grin suddenly turned into a furious glare. This girl was treading on thin ice.

Her friend gave her an "Oh my god, I can't believe you just did that!" grin, and pulled her away from me.

"Woops, gotta run, Draco dear. You keep sober for more than a day, okay?"

And then she was off.

I was seething.

"Tramp," I muttered.

Blaise patted me on the back once again.

"Which is one reason why you would've shagged her, had she not said that," Blaise chuckled.

"She's so full of crock," I managed to say, without punching Blaise in the nose.

"Well, half of what she said was true. You were drunk most nights after the break up."

"Well, at least I would never be drunk enough to sleep with her," I spit.

"Shame," was all Blaise could say.

xxxxxx

Skiving off class is so easy if you think about it.

Well, as long as you have a Skiving Snackbox.

Not that I use it... a lot.

I was lounging around the corridor nearest to the lavatories, shuffling a deck of cards over and over again. History of Magic was never a class I wanted to continue, but my N.E.W.T.'s required it, if I wanted to be a sucessful Department Head of Magical Law Enforcement. Apparently, you needed to know the History of rules.

Solitaire was becoming more and more boring. I'd won my fifth game straight, and there was still a half our left in class. Apparently, I'd skived too early. The Fainting Fancy should have been replaced with a Nosebleed Nougat, I knew it. Perhaps next class I can try that one out...

And then I heard the noise I hadn't heard for weeks.

Could she be at it again? It had been so long since I heard it. The last morning she was doing this was so long ago, wasn't it? And wasn't she supposed to be in class? Why was she vomiting in the girls lavatories rather than in the privacy of her own common room?

My questions made me stand up and pack away my cards. I inched closer towards the girls lavatories, and hesitated at the door. I couldn't possibly walk inside a girls bathroom, could I? Granger would probably slap me across the face if she knew I was listening.

But it wouldn't be the first time she slapped me. So I shrugged, and walked in.

Hermione stood at a sink, her shoulders hunched over it, shaking tremendously. Her hands were wrapped tightly on either side of it, her knuckles almost white from the grip. She gasped when she heard the creak of the door and turned around, while wiping furiously at her mouth.

"Malfoy!" Granger shrieked at me. She backed off quickly, and took a lame defensive stand in front of a garbage can. "What are you doing in the girls lavatories!"

I cocked a brow. "I could ask you the same thing, Granger. Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"Aren't you?"

I shut my lips tight. The Head Boy couldn't be caught skiving...

"Good question," I told her. "I wasn't feeling well. And apparently, neither are you," I accused.

Hermione went rigid and looked down.

"Bad pudding, again, I suppose?"

Hermione cleared her throat, and turned around in the sink. She looked up at me through the mirror while she turned the faucet on and began washing her hands.

"No, I don't think so," she said, with a hint of worry in her voice. I almost laughed at the dramatic edge she put in it as well.

"Right. Well, don't let the Head Boy catch the Head Girl skipping alright, Granger?"

"I wasn't skipping - "

"Tell it to someone who believes it Granger," I said in a sing-song voice.

She glared at me angrily, and hunched her shoulders. She still seemed to be in a defensive stance, and that surprised me.

"What the hell are you doing?" I questioned her.

"What?" she asked me innocently.

"You make it look like I'm about to attack you or something."

Hermione flinched inconspicuously, and walked quickly over to a stall.

"Well, who knows, you are a Slytherin. Now if you don't mind, I'll be doing my business. And you seem to forget you're in the girls lavatory. Please, leave?" she asked me. It almost sounded like she was pleading.

I shrugged, not wanting to push the matter further.

"Whatever. Class ends in thirty minutes," I warned her. "Don't be late."

I took my leave, and opened the door to get out. I heard Hermione wince at my last words.

"I already am..." I thought I heard her mutter.

xxxxxx

Lunch in the Great Hall was always a fun time for me. There was always something that happened before, during, or after classes that was exciting, and gossiped about throughout the House tables. The fun thing for me about it was the gossiping of course. Us Slytherins gossip like birds in a tree.

I was on my way into the Great Hall, looking forward to some juicy news, when someone bumped into me. It was two sixth year Hufflepuff girls that I hardly knew. They walked in front of me, blocking my way to my table, but I didn't mind. They were talking hurriedly in furious whispers to each other in a happy way.

"Is it true?" one of them asked the other.

"Yes! I got the owl during class. Mum's got a bun in the oven!" I cocked my eyebrow. Her Mom was baking?

The other girl squealed. "I can't believe it! How did she find out?"

"Well, of course she was late," she said matter-of-factly. The word was eerily familiar to me.

"And, and?" her friend urged.

"Her morning sickness! That's why Dad called St. Mungo's! He thought Mum was ill or something, but now we know she's not!"

"This is amazing, Wendy! Let's go tell the rest of them!"

And they scurried off to the table beside the Slytherin one, no longer whispering.

I took my own seat at the Slytherin table all alone, waiting for Blaise. I took the time alone to contemplate. Being late? I never understood these womenly things. Late for a doctors appointment, I suppose? A bun in the oven... how confusing. And morning sickness? I knew that was vomiting. Maybe her mother had the same symptoms as Granger...

"Oi there, mate," Blaise said, taking a seat beside me.

I raised my eyebrows in greeting towards him, and continued to think.

"What's up?" he asked me, while piling food onto his plate.

I wasn't paying attention. "...Huh?"

He laughed at me. "Pansy on the brain?"

I glared.

"No."

"Well then why does it look like you're constipated?" he asked me while laughing. Honestly, I had no idea how I could befriend someone who always had a snarky comment every second.

I gave him a fake laugh. "Oh ha-ha. Do you know that Wendy girl in Hufflepuff?" I asked him quickly.

Blaise arched his eyebrow. "That blonde Hufflepuff girl? Yeah."

I nodded a few times.

"She's pretty and everything, Draco, but I think you could do a little better," he said suddenly. I gave him an incredulous look.

"You think I want to shag her?" I asked him, the surprise evident in my face. He looked confused.

"Well why else would you ask about her?"

I wacked him across the head very hard. Blaise gasped, and rubbed the area where I hit him angrily. He punched me in the ribs in return, and went back to his breakfast, all the while staring daggers at me.

"Her mum apparently has a bun in the oven," I told him.

He choked on his food. "At her age?"

I shrugged. "Well, yeah. It doesn't matter if you're even eighty, does it? Anyone can do that."

Blaise looked at me, as if someone just told him his Mother wasn't a tramp.

"Maybe, sure! But I would hate to picture that!"

I looked at him, confused. Why did he look so appalled at my question?

"Why? What's wrong with having buns in the oven?"

"One is good enough, trust me, mate," Blaise said confidently. "They're a handful when they grow."

"But one is hardly enough." He dropped his mouth in front of me.

"Well, my stomach wouldn't be full enough," I explained to him.

Blaise's mouth reached the floor. "Your stomach? Mate, it's not even possible!"

What in the world? Anyone could bake buns. He continued to look at me, incredulously surprised, and dropped his fork onto his plate with a loud clatter.

"Alright, I've lost my appetite."

Why? They were just buns.

I raised both my eyebrows. "Are we... even talking about the same thing?"

"Well, if we're talking about Wendy's mum being pregnant, then yeah, we are!"

This time my mouth dropped all the way to the floor.

Oops.

xxxxxx

My mind was racing. There was no way in Merlin's name that Granger - the Granger - could be pregnant. With child. Baking a bun.

I hesitated at first as to whether or not I should question her about it. I mean, Granger was more responsible about... well... sex, than any of the rest of us were, so her symptoms could always just be the pudding. Or not. I tried to look back on the conversation I over-heard between the girls.

Hermione wasn't late. I don't think. I mean, Blaise explained it to me when I re-told the conversation to him, and I know that Granger's always on time. Take it from a guy who's seen the bathroom after she's done with it.

And the vomiting? Already explained. The pudding, duh.

And what else could there have possibly been to hint that she was pregnant?

She was oddly scared everytime I came near her. Like I was going to hit her or something. I thought about it again. I decided she was scared that I would hurt the baby if I hit her or something. But no. Remember, Granger's definitely not pregnant.

My thoughts were interrupted when the common room door shut. Ho-ho, the Head Girl was home.

"Hey, Granger!" I called to her. But she ignored me, and marched towards her room. She was holding her bag tightly to her chest. I got up from the armchair, and tried to follow her. When she noticed this, her pace quickened.

"Go away, Malfoy, I'm busy!"

I stopped in my tracks. She slammed the door shut.

"Okay..." I said awkwardly.

I waited for her to get out. She couldn't escape my questioning for long. I didn't care that it was absolutely none of my business, and that it would probably never be my business, but nothing like this ever happened at Hogwarts. And I wanted to be first on the scene.

Granger opened her door slowly after a while, and peeked outside. Apparently she knew I was waiting for her.

I got up from the couch quickly and stumbled over my feet. I fell in a heap of tangled limbs.

Hermione looked terribly frightened. She backed up quickly into her bedroom, and began to close the door.

"Wait!" I told her. She didn't listen to me.

"If you're drunk again, Malfoy, just leave me alone!" she shrieked.

I raised my eyebrows. "I'm not drunk, I swear!" I told her while getting up. I brushed off my shoulders and straightened up. I walked in a circle for her, showing her that I was completely sober.

She let the door hang open.

"Good," she said, more composed. She still looked a little scared though.

"What the hell is up with you, Granger?" I asked her.

"Nothing," she answered, a little too quickly. I noticed there was a thin box in her hands.

"Hey..." I noticed," what's that?"

She looked down at it, and put it quickly behind her hands.

"Just a... something for the bathroom," she muttered quickly.

"Can I see it?" I asked, holding out my hand.

"No!" she said, a little too loudly.

I sighed. "You're beeing rather difficult."

Hermione's face went blank. She looked like she was in some sort of daze. And then her face crumbled.

"I'm going to the bathroom," she said quickly, while hiding her face.

"But I - "

"Go away!"

And then she pushed past me, gaining a straight path towards the bathroom. I let her go without another word. She really was being difficult.

There was no point in waiting for her, I thought. If she was going to be like this the whole night, then maybe I would try again in the morning. She couldn't hide from me forever.

I decided I would go into my room, and start reading to get things out of my mind. It always helped me.

My back was on the bed, my hands holding up the book in front of me. It was a very comfortable position. The book began to do it's magic in seconds, and suddenly I forgot. This wizarding romance book was amazingly interesting.

The girl was breaking up with her long time lover for another man.

Pansy, I seethed.

And the man tried desperately in sleepless nights to forget her.

Pityful Draco.

All the while he found that the answer to forgetting her was right in front of him.

Sob, sob, sob.

I tore my eyes away from the book. That wasn't me crying was it? Quickly, I wiped my fingers across my cheek. It was dry.

Where was that noise coming from?

I got up from my bed, and checked the living room. It was empty. The kitchen was clean and empty as well. No one was in Hermione's room, for her door was hanging open, and I could see. I looked towards the bathroom. The door was shut.

And then I heard the noise again, coming from inside there.

I dropped my book on the bed and headed for the bathroom. Granger seemed really sad. My steps were light, so that she wouldn't hear me coming and turn me away. I wanted to get to the bottom of this. Instead of wrapping on the door, I muttered a strong unlocking spell so that I would have immediate entrance.

I pushed the door aside, and it creaked open.

Hermione sat on the toilet, shaking. Her cheeks were stained with tears and the sink was dirty with vomit.

At a time like this, I would probably laugh my head off. But her sadness was too real. I knew how that felt, and to stand there and mock her would probably guilt me.

"Granger, what's wrong?" I asked in worry.

She looked up at me, surprised by my presence. She didn't turn me away this time. She was so vulnerable, I almost cringed in sorrow. Instead of asking to be alone, like I thought she would, she stood up and did an act of evil.

She hugged me.

I was so caught of guard, I didn't have the time to react. I stood there, my hands up in surprise while her arms were wrapped around my neck. I smelled something icky.

I looked sidways to look at what she was holding. "What's in your hand?"

Granger ignored me. She looked at the sink, and sobbed. And something struck me. "Have you been vomiting again?"

She let go of me, her eyes full of worry and sadness. She said nothing. She did nothing... except hold up her shaking palm, her fingers wrapped tightly around a very blue pregnancy test.

Her fingers unwraveled itselt from the stick gracefully, and she let it drop to the floor. As it did, she sat back on the toilet, and cried her eyes out again, her hands covering her face. Her sobs were saturated with sadness and the bathroom was almost flooded with her tears. I really had to admit that I was truly sad for her.

She looked up from her hands and eyed me. They were narrowed and had no vulneribility in it, like it did ten seconds ago.

"Go away," she whispered.

I had no idea what to do. Stay there and comfort her? Stand there and watch? Go away and forget all about this? What could I do?

"Go away," she said more forcefully.

I sighed. It was what she wanted. So I turned around and left, leaving the sadness there as I did.

-

-

-

To be continued...

A/N: Pretty good for my first try at this sort of fic? I hope so! Review if you like it or review if you hate it! Thanks x.