‘I think you might be…pregnant.’ Her eyes dart around the room, avoiding my amused expression.
 
‘Oh, yeah, and Bellatrix Lestrange got Harry a pair of polka-dotted socks for Christmas,’ I joke. 
 
‘I’m serious. I think you’re pregnant,’ she says, completely disregarding my joke. 

I laugh. ‘Merlin’s beard, Hermione, why’d you think that?’ 

 ‘Dinny, why you so chubby?’ Teddy shouts, snapping me out of my trance. He must’ve caught on to my refusal to listen. Come to think of it, if anyone besides Teddy asked me that, I would’ve punched them out, but I can’t find myself to be mad at Teddy for this. I mean, to be fair, I am quite pudgy. 

 

Every stares at us, clearly amused by Teddy’s question. I just sit there, on the verge of tears, suddenly self-conscious about myself. If a two year old could tell I was fatter, what was everyone else thinking?

I shake his hand away. I’m in control here, not him. ‘Sorry,’ he says weakly.
 
‘You should be,’ I reply harshly. He looks up, confused.
 
‘And why is that?’ he asks, probably questioning my sanity.
 
‘I’m pregnant,’ I say, a little too loud.
 
His eyes widen so much they’re at great danger of falling out. ‘Pregnant? What the hell did you get yourself into?!’ 

 Ginny speaks Draco, and Ginny speaks business. She hates both of them.