Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A/N: Dumbledore never died. Draco never tried to kill him, and never took the Dark Mark.

Summary: Draco, the sexy and devious devil that he is, has finally come up with a perfect plan to get Hermione as his permanently and look perfectly innocent at the same time…

He devised a potion to get Hermione Granger pregnant with his child—despite the fact that she's still a virgin! It's a dark spell, so he pretends he has no idea how in the WORLD she ended knocked up. In his devious mind he'd imagined Hermione finally being his and giving him the heir he wants, the heir that will make her his forever whether she likes it or not.

Of course, he never expected Hermione to doubt the fact that he is the father! When an accident makes Hermione believe that he, Neville, Harry or Professor Snape could be the father of her child, how will Draco convince her that it is his without letting out that he was the one behind it all?


Stupid Granger.

Stupid stupid Granger!

Draco Malfoy stopped in mid-rant, frown marring his handsome face. Okay, so maybe Granger wasn't stupid, more like the most bloody brilliant woman ever to grace Hogwarts—but if so—how the hell had she managed to mess this up? And unintentionally at that?!?!?!?

Growling, the platinum blonde threw himself on the sofa of the common room, ignoring Blaise Zabini, who was studying by the fireplace. Blaise was probably the only Slytherin he'd given the password to Hermione and his Common Room. Draco hadn't really cared for the position of Head Boy, the only advantage was that he shared a Commons with Hermione.


Back again to his rant, Draco kicked at a cushion in his foul mood. It'd taken him months to develop the potion, not only had the ingredients been hard to find, but he'd had to bribe his portraits to keep quiet and not tell anyone what the hell he was secretly brewing in his room.

When the bribery didn't work he'd burnt the portrait who'd given him the most trouble and the others kept quiet from sheer terror.

I went to ALL of that work and what do I get? NOTHING!

You'd think that the mudblood would appreciate the effort he put into that damned potion! And how about the effort and extra sneakiness on his part to get a drop of her blood and a bit of her hair (without her knowing) and getting her to drink the finalized potion (once again without her bloody realizing anything)?!?!?!?

Oh, no. She didn't appreciate his creative genius…no, not at all. If she did she'd not have messed up her part of the deal so horribly!

Yeah, sure, of course she didn't know what the hell he'd tried to do, and of course she'd never have agreed to it if she had---but that was the whole point, wasn't it? If she had he wouldn't have had to test his inner snake to the limit. If Granger would just be sensible (for once!!!!) he would have found a much nicer way to getting the same results.

But no.

She might be smart but she lacked good judgment.

And she'd made all his super sneakiness and amazing cunning plans go down the drain!

Had his stress made him mess up something in the potion? It was an extremely old, ancient and dark potion that hadn't been used in over a hundred years, and had been banned from longer.



So, obviously Granger was to blame.

SOMEHOW she'd managed to---.

The door to her bedroom flew open and Hermione Granger was just a speck of color as she raced to their shared bathroom, slamming the door behind her in a flash.

Draco blinked…what the hell?

The sound of retching met his ears and he jerked off of the sofa and stood, looking in the direction of the bathroom as the sound of Hermione vomiting filled the Common Room.

Worry filled his silver eyes.

Was his mudblood sick?

It was probably the amount of studying she had to do. And Potty and Weaselbee weren't exactly helping. They were always expecting her to do their homework for them so they could practice Quidditch. It was obviously having its toll on her.

Draco clenched his fists as Hermione's sobs were heard in between the violent heaving. He wanted to go in there and comfort his mudblood and see what the hell was wrong with her.

Sure, they'd had a sort of truce between them since making Head Boy and Girl, but they were FAR from being chummy enough for him to suggest she go see Madam Pomfrey without her suspecting a surprise attack from the whole Slytherin Common Room while on the way to the Hospital Wing.

"Looks like Potter's been busy." Zabini commented dryly from where he sat by the fire, eyes never leaving the book he was studying.

"What do you mean?" Draco asked, beginning to turn to him, yet jerking back in Hermione's direction at an amazingly disgusting sound coming from the bathroom. How much food did she have to throw up anyway?

"Third time this week she's done that." Blaise offered up the information. "Potter stuck it to her good."

Draco growled, not liking the insinuation that Potter even knew what a dick was. "Blaise…"

"You're not so dense are you?" Zabini asked, finally up from his book. "She's knocked up. Got all the signs. Doesn't eat breakfast, throws up, lost weight, looks pale. She fainted yesterday in Potions."

Draco nodded, remembering that. He suddenly frowned at Blaise. "You seem to be keeping an eye on her."

Zabini had the nerve to smirk. "Unlike someone, I haven't spent the last six years making her life impossible. We actually are quite cool with each other, study partners for Arithmancy and everything. Or we were, until she started showing pregnancy symptoms two months ago as was so sick she canceled our study sessions."

Draco growled, possessive jealousy swirling in him at that, until realization suddenly hit him. "Two months ago?"

"Yeah. I'd say she's about three months along." Zabini offered, raising an eyebrow at Draco's sudden manic smile.

Turning his back on Zabini, Draco collapsed back on the sofa with an unhealthily happy expression on his face, glad to hear the toilette flushing. It would seem that Hermione had finally stopped vomiting.

The door to the bathroom opened and a pale Hermione crawled tiredly back to her room, looking horrible.

Draco's large smug smirk followed her until she closed the door behind her.

Three months along was she?

His smirk was creepily content.

Lovely Granger.

Lovely lovely Granger.


"I'm WHAT?!?!?!?" Hermione hyperventilated, she'd finally gotten the nerve to go get herself checked—because a virus couldn't last this long, right?—and this was far from what she'd expected to hear.

"Now, Miss Granger, I need you to calm down, breathe in and out." Madame Pomfrey ordered in her soothing, motherly voice. "Good, yes, in and out. Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, but, but, I can't—you have to be wrong!" Hermione didn't sound better, not at all. "I'm—I'm a virgin." Blushing, she lowered her gaze to the floor. "So it's impossible that I---." Her hands dropped to her flat stomach.

"I checked, Miss Granger, and yes, you are a virgin…but you're also three months pregnant. You'll soon start to show."

Collapsing back against the bed, Hermione covered her face with her hands. "How is this possible?"

"Anything is possible in the Wizarding World." A voice said from the doorway.

"Headmaster!" Hermione cried out, pulling her hands from her face. "I can't be pregnant! I just can't! I'm not the Virgin Mary!"

"I'm afraid that you are…pregnant that is." His eyes twinkled merrily, then seeing that she failed to find that amusing, he cleared his throat and stepped closer into the room, clasping his hands behind him. "Poppy ran some tests on you after discovering that you were indeed a virgin, and when she got the results she came to me right away."

Hermione gulped. This didn't sound good.

"Do you remember, Miss Granger, when you were involved in an accident in Potions three months ago?" The Headmaster asked.

"Yes, Malfoy and I were working on a potion together and Neville accidentally tripped into Harry and both colliding into us. Our potions mixed, we all got cut on the broken vials, and everything exploded." She paused, not liking the situation at all. "Are you saying that that has something to do with this?" She pointed to her still flat stomach.

"We believe that somehow, the mixed ingredients formed accidentally created the Parvulus Formator potion."

"Parvulus Formator?" Hermione hadn't heard of that potion before.

"It's very ancient, very powerful, and very dark." Dumbledore answered her gravely. "It used to be used by powerful, Pureblood families when the man wanted a woman whom he couldn't have. He'd get the ingredients he wanted, brew the potion, and secretly give the woman he wanted the potion. It would leave her pregnant with his child when they might have only seen each other briefly once. In those days the woman would be forced to marry him to quiet the scandal that would have occurred if she'd been discovered pregnant out of wedlock."

"What a male thing to do!" Hermione hissed, just the thought repulsive.

"Yes, well, the name of the potion literally means child maker. The main ingredient for this potion is blood from the intended mother and father. A mere drop is sufficient for the potion to work. Mostly the potion was ingested by the mother—but if enough of it comes into contact with her skin it is pulled in by her pores and still is effective." Dumbledore explained, eyes twinkling at her feminist rage. "And, I'm sure you understand where I'm getting with this."

Hermione nodded distractedly and then suddenly blanched. "Dear God." Clutching her stomach, she looked at her stomach in horror before looking at a pitying Madam Pomfrey and a damned twinkling eyed Dumbledore. "Neville, Harry and Malfoy were cut! Either of them could be the father of my child!"

She went whiter as she remembered something else. "Dear God! Professor Snape got cut too when he went to help Malfoy! He started waving his wand around, taking points from Gryffindor, didn't see that the potions had made the ground slippery, and slipped, falling head first over me and got cut up as well…" Hermione groaned. "I'm having Snape's child!"

Madam Pomfrey promptly fainted.

Dumbledore tried not to laugh. "You cannot be sure that it was your professor's child. It could be Neville's, or Harry's—or even Mister Malfoy's."

Hermione wasn't listening. "How am I going to explain this to my parents?" She ranted to herself. "Mom, dad, I'm knocked up and don't know who the father is. He could be one of FOUR different men, one of them is my teacher by the way, and, oh, don't worry, I'm still a virgin!"

"Miss Granger---."

"If it's Neville's it'll be a walking disaster!" Hermione cried out in horror.


"And if it's Harry's Voldemort will try to hurt it to hurt Harry!" Hermione covered her face with her hands.


"And if it's Malfoy's it'll be the most annoying little prat that every was born!" The brunette was near tears.


"And if it's Professor Snape's it'll be a little crooked-nosed smart-mouthed sarcastic potion master in the making!"

By now Dumbledore realized that he was being ignored, so he remained silent, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a lemon drop, plopping it into his mouth and sucking on it, enjoying his treat until Hermione finally calmed down enough to remember that he was there…and that Madam Pomfrey was still dead to the world on the ground.

"What am I going to do Headmaster?" Hermione looked up at him imploringly.

"We're going to have to owl the would-be-fathers, explaining to them what happened and inviting them to a special meeting. But also, we'll have to announce to the school what is going on."


"Miss Granger, you'll soon be showing."

She sighed. "Okay."

"Great. I'll make the announcement tonight!" Looking absolutely giddy, Dumbledore stepped over Madame Pomfrey and walked out of the room.

Hermione, remembering the Mediwitch, leaned over the side of the bed and looked at her prone figure with a sigh before pulling out her wand and pointing it at her. "Enervate."

As the Mediwitch stirred from her faint, Hermione caressed her stomach, finally believing the truth. A little life-form was inside of her, growing.

Someone truly needed her.

A small smile formed on her face. "Heya little one." She frowned. "Who's your daddy?"


Draco hadn't paid much mind to the owl that'd arrived moments before with a letter from Dumbledore. Anything the old fool had to say to him was unimportant and could wait until after dinner—no matter how 'important' it stated it was in cursive letters on the envelope.

The Slytherin sat between Blaise and Millicent, eating, wondering what was going on. He noticed Potter flushing in embarrassment around an equally uncomfortable Hermione, who kept ducking her gaze repeatedly and murmuring. Longbottom ran into the Great Hall, saw Hermione, and promptly fainted, causing Professor Vector to use Levicorpus to levitate his unconscious self to the Hospital Wing.

The Weaslette and Weaselbee were listening to Harry with eyes wide, looking at Hermione as if she'd grown another head.

And what was weirder?

Professor Snape kept sneaking glances in her direction.

Draco frowned, not liking all the attention his woman was suddenly getting.

Still, he congratulated himself on a plan well executed. Hermione was pregnant with his child, and she was smart enough to know that that child was the lasso that'd bind them forever. She wouldn't want to give up her child, and he wouldn't give it up either—which meant that Hermione was stuck with him.

He'd win her over with his charms during her pregnancy.

Nothing could go wrong.

Brilliant Malfoy. He congratulated himself smugly. Absolutely BRILLIANT!

Dumbledore stood, getting everyone's attention as he spoke. "Something has occurred that must come to the attention of the school." The old man announced gravely. "During a Potions accident three months ago, the mixed potions created a potion now banned by the Ministry, and unfortunately Miss Granger was infected."

A hush went through the houses.

Draco sat straighter in his seat.

"She was infected with the Parvulus Formator potion and she is now three months pregnant."

Everyone in the Great Hall gasped as one, turning to look at the horrified looking Gryffindor.

Draco's eyes widened. A Potions accident three months ago? He remembered it well and smirked. It'd happened a day or so before he'd finally bribed a House Elf to slip the potion into Hermione's glass of Pumpkin Juice.

The idiots had come up with a cover story---he wouldn't have to create one himself! How perfect.

"The problem is that no one is sure who the father of Miss Granger's baby is."

Draco's self-satisfied smile froze on his face.

"Four males were hurt in said accident and can be the possible fathers." Dumbledore continued. "They have been owled and informed of the situation."

The hall was deadly silent.

Draco suddenly wished that he'd read the letter the owl had brought him.

"The possible fathers of Miss Granger's child are Mister Neville Longbottom…"

"That explains him fainting." Someone in Ravenclaw told the other.

"…Professor Serverus Snape…" Dumbledore continued.

"How romantic!" Someone in Hufflepuff exclaimed dreamily, never noticing the death glare Draco sent her way. "I always thought there was a deeper reason behind his always picking on her!"

Now that Draco thought about that…he growled in his godfather's direction…growl turning feral when he noticed said godfather watching HIS woman.

"…Mister Harry Potter…"

"Most likely." Someone in Slytherin (talk about betrayal!) sniggered to his friend. "I mean, all Potter and Granger do is make cow eyes at each other. I mean, I bet you he knocked her up and they decided to use this as an excuse to make it look as if they're both innocent little saintly virgins."

Draco memorized the face of the Slytherin and began planning something horrible to happen to him 'accidentally'.

Hermione's baby was his dammit! How could anyone believe for a moment that his woman would ever put out for Potter?

Sure…she didn't know she was his woman, but…

"…and Mister Draco Malfoy."

The hall was silent before it burst into laughter.

"Yeah right." Seemed to be the favored sentiment of his classmates. "As if Malfoy could be the father."

"My money's on Potter." The same Slytherin announced.

"Mine too." Another joined Malfoy's growing 'Must Get Hexed Soon' list.

Alone in his corner of the table, Malfoy gritted his teeth. It seems that everyone believed Hermione's baby could be anyone but his----and it was his!

It wasn't supposed to go like this!

His paternity was never supposed to be questioned!

How in the world was he going to prove that it was his without letting slip that Hermione's condition wasn't accidental at all?

Brilliant Malfoy. He snarled to himself as Hermione blushed when a foolishly smiling Potter placed a timid hand on her stomach. Abso-fucking-lutely brilliant.


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