DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!

The Girl Amongst The Wolves

Chapter 37

Hermione lay curled up in a ball on her and Fenrir's bed, not moving as she stared into the flames flickering in the fireplace. Why had he left so suddenly? Where had his aggression come from? Was it because he had to go to Canada when he didn't want to? Possibly but that wouldn't explain his hostility towards her. Had he found the pregnancy test in the small rubbish bin in the bathroom? Perhaps, but wouldn't he be happy about it? Unless he didn't want the cub – no that's not an option! If he hadn't wanted the cub, she wouldn't even be pregnant! So what? What had made him so cruel? Hermione couldn't think of anything. All her intelligence failed her then. But then felt more disappointed in herself for not understanding why her Mate was so angry, and apparently with her. Had she done something? If so, what?

Her thoughts were interrupted by knocking on the door.

"Alpha Hermione?" Lauren's voice called unsurely through the wood. Hermione gave no response. Lauren knocked again. "Alpha Hermione?" Again, Hermione said nothing. "Is everything alright?" Hermione's heart gave a painful twang as she thought how un-alright everything was! Her Mate had left her to go to a faraway country for an unknown period of time with unknown people, without even a kiss goodbye! Not only that, but he had shouted at her and said horrible things, then patronised her and insulted her on his way out. What was wrong with him?!

The only thing Hermione could feel good about was her newly discovered pregnancy. A baby boy to be born in approximately six months. What would he look like? Would he have Fenrir's slightly darker skin, or Hermione's fairness? His hair; would it be her frizzy brown mess or Fenrir's straight black locks? Would his eyes be blue like his father's or brown like his mother's? What would he be like as a person? Bookish and quiet like Hermione? Or proud and stubborn like Fenrir? Would he like to climb trees – which would surely make Hermione nervous – or read books? Would he be friends with Marta? Would he be obedient? Or would he need supervising all the time? Although, since Hermione was also his Alpha, would he listen to her every word? Or would her being his mother make him immediately disobedient?

Another knock on her door broke through her train of thoughts.

"Alpha Hermione?" This time it was Cami. Cami knocked again, harder this time. "Alpha Hermione, please let me in." Hermione uncurled slightly from her foetal position, knowing that Cami's mothering instincts wouldn't let Hermione be alone when she was so upset. Heaving a sigh, she stood up and walked over to the door, removing the ward locking it and opening the door. Cami immediately pulled her into a gentle hug, one arm holding her tight whilst her other hand held her head and stroked her hair soothingly. Hermione hadn't realised she'd been silently crying until she felt Cami's shirt turn damp under her cheek.

She sniffed sadly before pulling away from Cami. "He left."

"I know."

"I don't know where he is."

"I know."

"I don't know how long he'll be gone."

"I know."

"And I'm carrying his child." She wept.

"I know." Hermione looked up in surprise. "Lauren told me, she couldn't keep it in. She's so happy for you." They both smiled together. "She says it's a son as well." Hermione nodded with a proud smile. "Congratulations." Cami kissed her forehead.

Hermione's stiff-upper-lip attitude crumbled. "What if the baby's born before he comes back? What if he's killed or hurt when he's there? What if the distance between us becomes too much and I lose the baby? What if-?"

Cami grasped her arms firmly, gave her a little shake and tugged her over to the bed and sat her down. "Hermione, you need to calm down. If there's anything that'll hurt the baby, it's you worrying. For now, I'm afraid," She sighed through her nose, "there's nothing you can do."

Hermione protested, "But-!"

"No, Hermione." Cami insisted firmly. "He's gone and we don't know when he'll be back. So the best we can do is wait. Wait and hope that he makes it back in time for Final Battle that is sure to come soon enough, let alone the birth."

Hermione didn't say anything for a few seconds. "This isn't much of a pep-talk."

!"!

So Hermione waited. And waited. And waited. She waited three months. Three months without a word from Fenrir. At first it had been an agony that made her feel like her heart was almost breaking in two. She'd missed him. She'd missed his face. His scent. His touch. The warm feeling he gave her whenever he was near her. She'd missed kissing him goodnight and curling up against him, his arm wrapped protectively around her back, his other hand holding hers onto his chest, his nose buried in her hair. She'd missed waking up next to him, bathing with him, reading with him, eating with him…The only reason she'd been able to go on had been the tiny piece of him that she carried inside her, even the Pack's Shaman had agreed to that – if Mates were separated for a long time, then they would begin to display physical symptoms that could only be cured by being reunited.

Even though Hermione had nothing to compare it with, she knew her pregnancy was going well. Even if the mornings of her second and third months had her knelt on the bathroom floor being violently ill into the toilet. 'That's good', Cami had told her, 'it means the cub's developing well. You're taking care of him, don't worry'. Hermione wasn't worried about her unborn son, she was worried about her own body. Sudden vomiting that lasted for nearly half an hour, followed by five to six hours of nearly crippling nausea? Only then to feel unbelievably hungry and want to eat everything in sight, even if Hermione didn't like it? She'd never been keen on asparagus, for example. But a few weeks after she'd found out about the baby, she'd taken to carrying a small bag of it around with her in her bag and munching on sticks every so often. It didn't even taste nice, but she kept craving it. That, and lemon curd on toast, which doesn't sound too bad…Until she felt like slathering it with French mustard, much to the other students who had to sit near her in the Great Hall.

When she'd told Ginny, Neville and Luna – well she didn't technically tell them; Luna had guessed it as soon as she'd seen Hermione the morning after Fenrir had left. 'You're pregnant, aren't you, Hermione?' 'How do you know?' 'There isn't a single Wrackspurt around you right now! They don't like to be around pregnant women, you know?' The unusual blonde had been thrilled for her, telling her that she was sure Hermione would be a good mother. Neville hadn't really known what to say, merely blushed at the knowledge that his close friend and the girl he thought of as a sister was sexually active. Ginny had been…Perturbed by the situation, particularly when Hermione had told them that Fenrir had left – though not revealing where he had gone or why. Ginny had taken that as evidence that 'if he could abandon his pregnant Mate, what would stop him from abandoning his Mate and baby?'

That had been three months ago, and Hermione hadn't spoken to the redhead ever since. She still spent time with Neville and Luna, but she couldn't bring herself to forgive Ginny for what she had said. Because, deep down, she agreed with her. Fenrir had abandoned her. Granted, he hadn't known about the baby, but that wasn't the point. He had left her quickly and his last words had been an insult. She wasn't thinking that maybe he was bored with her or wanted to get away from her, she would never think that. But whether or not that she was still at Hogwarts with her friends or with her Pack during the Full Moons; her Mate had still left her.

Hermione sighed, bringing her hands out of the bath water and running them down her face as she closed her eyes, leaning her head against her fist as she rested her elbow on the edge of the tub. Her fourth month of pregnancy had brought about two things – fatigue and horniness. When she wasn't exhausted and crawling up in bed, she was sneaking back to her rooms or 'going to the loo' and had to quickly relieve herself to stop herself from going crazy. Apparently whatever needs a woman has curing pregnancy, she should meet them as quickly as possible, even if it means hurrying to the bathrooms, locking the stall, casting strong Silencing spells and fingering herself to completion several times a day.

Her eyes shot open as she distantly heard the fireplace roar to life in the sitting room. "Hello?" A strong voice called out.

Hermione could hardly believe it. "Fenrir?"