Perfect Storm

Chapter 25

August 2004

Hermione's alarm went off and she groaned. She slammed her hand down on the snooze button and pulled the quilt over her head. The morning sun was way too bright for her throbbing head. She had barely dozed off when the alarm blasted out a second wake-up call.

"Merow."

Hermione lifted the quilt and was met with Crookshanks' squashed and disapproving face.

"Give me a break. I feel like shite," Hermione moaned.

Crookshanks swished his tail and jumped from the bed, no doubt to go throw disapproving looks at his empty food bowl. Hermione turned off the alarm and rolled onto her back. Her head pounded and her stomach rolled. She hadn't done anything last night to warrant feeling like this. It wouldn't be so bad if she had a night of drinking and/or sex to blame it on. Alas, both her bed and liquor cupboard were empty.

When it felt like the aching had died down, Hermione slowly sat up and then immediately made a mad dash to the bathroom to vomit into the sink. Emptying her stomach made her feel better. She checked her temperature and was relieved to see it was normal. She'd had a nasty stomach flu the week before her and Draco's beach trip and wasn't keen on reliving that.

After a hot shower, some toast, and a cup of tea, Hermione's energy had increased significantly and she was able to apparate to meet up with Brian on Staten Island.

"Pushing the limit there, Granger," Brian called when he caught sight of her. "Any later and we wouldn't have time to get breakfast."

"I think it'll just be coffee for me today," Hermione said, falling into step with Brian as they made their way towards the corner bodega.

Brian looked at her and frowned. "Yeah, you don't look too good. Are you sure you're up for this today?"

"I'm fine."

"Adrienne's partner is out sick. I can always call her in if you need to go home and rest."

"I'm fine," Hermione repeated, pulling the shop door open and holding it open. She followed Brian through the door and was quickly halted as the mingled smells of melting cheese, hot sauce, and coffee flooded her nose and sent her running back outside. Brian found her dry heaving into a metal trash bin.

"You are definitely not fine," he said, rubbing her back.

"I'm not sick," Hermione wheezed as another retch wracked her body and she heard the passing people comment with, "Eww" and "Gross."

"Move along," Brian called. "It's not like y'all won't see worse by lunch."

Finally able to stand up straight, Hermione let go of the trash bin and went to wipe the sweat from her forehead.

"Wait!" Brian grabbed her wrist and pulled a small bottle of hand sanitizer from his pocket. "Touching your face after touching that would be the pinnacle of gross."

"Thanks," Hermione sighed, rubbing the sanitizer over her hands. "I think it's food poisoning. I'm not feverish. I just can't keep anything down."

"Look here."

Hermione looked up at the concerned face of her partner. He placed the back of his hand on her forehead and then grinned.

"What?" she asked.

"I'll be right back."

Brian darted back into the bodega and returned a few minutes later holding a cup of coffee and a paper bag. He took a sip of the coffee and handed her the paper bag. She opened it, expecting to see antacids to settle her stomach. Instead, it was a box with a home pregnancy test.