The Day After Tomorrow

Summary: Neither can remember the events they'd probably rather forget. Once bitter enemies, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy are forced to unite in their search to recover the past, especially since no one will tell them anything.

Rating: T for now.

Setting: Seventh year, disregards HBP and DH.

"And for next time, I want a two-foot essay on the pros and cons of using pi in Wizarding equations," Professor Vector called over the tumult of scraping chairs and rustling books.

Hermione dually noted the assignment before snapping her planner closed and sliding it into her bag. She paused by her desk for only a moment before joining the throng. There went her entire evening of revising.

"Vector's a slave driver," Padma Patil complained as she joined Hermione in the mad rush for the door. "I don't know how I'm supposed to get all my homework done and put in those extra hours revising for N.E.W.T.'s the teachers keep demanding."

"I know," Hermione mumbled, wishing not for the first time that she had her time-turner again. So many things to do, so little time…

"And Seamus is being a brute about me spending all my spare time with him," Padma continued. "He never listens when I try to tell him I've got other things to do beside…"

"Besides snogging him in every broom closet, corner, and empty classroom?" Hermione finished, eyebrows raised.

Padma grinned sheepishly. "Well, yeah. Honestly, Hermione, you should be glad you don't have a boyfriend. It's really hard juggling both studies and a relationship around here."

"I'll keep that in mind," Hermione said as they reached the door.

As the flow of the crowd propelled them forward, someone knocked into her. "Watch your step, Mudblood," a familiar voice spat.

She didn't even have to turn around to know who it was. "In case you didn't notice, it was you who knocked into me, Malfoy," Hermione replied tiredly, inwardly rolling her eyes. The customary insults exchanged had grown old and so over-used that the barbs didn't really faze her any more. Both of them knew that she wasn't the same second year who had cried at Malfoy's stinging words. They knew, but now the exchange was so common that her day wouldn't feel complete without a few jabs from the Slytherin.

"Go ask Potty to lend you his glasses next time," Malfoy retaliated. "Then maybe you can keep your over large feet to yourself."

"Sod off," Hermione said unenthusiastically. Today she was too tired to think of any really good comebacks. Besides, his words lacked their usual venom.

"Yeah, go find someone of your own mental capability to annoy," Padma piped up, taking Hermione's arm and propelling her away from the blonde ferret.

"Thanks," Hermione said once they were well away from the disliked Slytherin. She slowed, the deep weariness slowly taking over once again. For reasons she couldn't figure out, she'd been feeling like dung for the past several days.

Padma, the typical Ravenclaw, was unfortunately too observant for her own good. "Are you alright?"

"Fine, fine," Hermione said, brushing away her concern. "I'll brew myself a Pepper-up Potion later and be fine. It's probably only a cold from this drafty castle."

The other girl didn't look convinced. "Whatever you say, but I'm still telling Parvati she needs to make sure you take better care of yourself."

They descended the stairs to the Great Hall. "Study with me later in the library?" Padma asked hopefully.

"Sure. Does eight sound good?"

"Great. See you later."

Hermione gave a half-hearted wave as Padma grinned and headed over toward the Ravenclaw table. The sad truth was, Hermione thought as she looked for her friends, that she was glad to have an excuse to stay out of the Gryffindor common room that evening. Harry and Ron had been acting extremely strange of late, almost as if they were uncomfortable to be around her. She couldn't figure out why, but it must be something that happened over Christmas holidays because Ginny was acting odd too.

Hermione had racked her brain, but in all reality, the last six months since the beginning of school were a blur. She'd let schoolwork occupy so much of her time that details of other events were foggy. Even Christmas holidays seemed a little misty, though she's spent the time with her grandparents. I really have to pay more attention to what's going on around me, she chastised herself. If I'm not careful, the year will slip by and I won't remember a thing at the end. Is this really how I want to spend my last year at Hogwarts?

The answer was no.

She put on a cheery smile and dropped into a seat next to Harry. "Hi, Harry, Ron."

They looked up at her, exchanged a glance she didn't like very much, and then smiled too, though the smiles were half-hearted. "Hi, Hermione," Ron replied, pausing with his fork half-way to his mouth. "How was Arithmancy?"

This gave Hermione a chance to launch into a detailed description of the concepts they'd covered, the homework Vector had assigned, and the little incident with Malfoy afterward. Ron and Harry didn't seem to be listening until Malfoy's entrance into her tale. Then both heads popped up.

"Malfoy confronted you?" Harry demanded. "What did he say?"

Hermione frowned. "He called me a Mudblood, and I told him to sod off. Nothing out of the ordinary."

Neither boy seemed to be relaxing, and Hermione finally decided she'd had enough. "Listen you two," she began. "What on earth is going on? You tiptoe around me like I've got AIDs or something. You keep exchanging glances and whispering behind my back. Even Ginny is avoiding me. What happened? Are you mad at me for something?"

"No, nothing at all," Harry said hastily. "Nothing's going on. We're just…worried…about you, that's all. You seem more tired."

Hermione felt herself relax a little. "Yeah, I am," she admitted. "Maybe it's just all the schoolwork and the Head Girl duties catching up to me all at once. Or maybe I'm getting a cold or something, but don't worry about me, I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Just take care of yourself, Hermione," Ron said, his voice laced with much more concern than should have been present, and Hermione got the distinct feeling that she hadn't yet reached the bottom of her friends' strange actions.

With the bright dawn of Tuesday morning came the rolling waves of nausea that left Hermione gasping for breath. "'Mione? What's wrong?" Parvati mumbled from underneath piles of blankets on her bed as Hermione made a stumbling dash toward the bathroom.

The contents of her stomach ended up in the toilet bowl as Hermione knelt on the tile floor, breathing hard.

Suddenly, she felt gentle hands pulling her hair out of her face and wiping the sweat off her brow. "Hermione, tell me what's the matter," Parvati said urgently. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Hermione said, but then her stomach revolted again.

"Oh Merlin," Parvati muttered. "Lavender, bring me a washcloth.

Hermione could hear the soft pattering of feet on the floor as Lavender left and returned with the requested object. A moment later the cool cloth was being pressed to her forehead as she leaned over the toilet a third time.

Parvati stroked her hair and wiped her face until Hermione was finally able to lean back against the wall. "It's nothing," Hermione insisted when she was able to speak. "I'm sure it's just the winter flu."

Without looking, she could tell Lavender and Parvati were exchanging meaningful glances. "I don't think so, hon," Lavender said, shaking her head. "But it couldn't be…could it, Par?"

Parvati bit her lip. "Perhaps…"

"What on earth are you talking about?" Hermione said, a little angrily, sitting up straighter. "I just have the flu, that's all."

"No," said Lavender, more serious than Hermione had ever seen her before. "No, you don't."

"Come on," Parvati sighed. "Let's get you to Madame Pomfrey."

Ten minutes later, Lavender and Parvati were dragging a still-protesting Hermione down the last flight of stairs to the Hospital Wing.

"For the last time, I'm FINE!" she whined.

"Well, we'll let Pomfrey determine that," Parvati said firmly as she and Lavender pushed open the double doors.

"What is it now?" the bustling nurse said, her eyebrows shooting up at the three girls.

"Hermione's sick," Lavender began.

"I am not!"

"And she needs you to diagnose her," Parvati finished.

"Sit down on the bed," Pomfrey instructed.

"But I feel great…"

"I don't care if you feel good enough to climb Mount Everest, you're in my infirmary, and it's obvious to me that you're not alright. Now hold still."

Hermione gave a little angry noise, but did as she was told. Madame Pomfrey did a quick blood-drawing charm, then began a series of diagnostic spells.

"It's just the flu, right?" Hermione said, tossing her hair. "I'll get a potion and be done, right? I've got Transfiguration in a half hour…"

"Maybe," Pomfrey said distantly, waving her wand up and down. Suddenly, she stopped.

"What? What is it? Is it the flu?"

"No," she said slowly, her eyes fixed on Hermione's abdomen.

"Then what is it?"

The nurse looked up. "I guess there's no way around this than to just say it straight."

"Then say it already," Hermione said irritably.

Pomfrey raised her hands, then dropped them helplessly by her side. "Hermione, you're pregnant."

There was a stunned moment of silence, before Lavender and Parvati chorused in unison, "Pregnant?!"

A/N: I know, I know. Another story started... But this plot bunny hopped into my head and wouldn't leave, so I'm trying my hand at a new plotline with a pairing I haven't attempted to write yet, and once again I'm attmpting to "rescue" an overused plot by adding hopefully interesting and new twists. I figured I'd post this as a teaser and see what the general opinion was. Tell me what you think.