Hermione Jean Granger, 27 years of age, was already a successful healer working at St. Mungo's as a magical equivalent to an obstetrician. Her job was to deliver babies and she loved every moment of it. A new mother glowing as she looked into the eyes of her infant: Priceless. It was the best part of her job and someday, whenever that came, she hoped that she would look as beautiful and radiant as a mother when she held her beauty for the first time. Although at this point, it seemed unlikely. Hermione was having trouble with finding a suitable partner and her instincts told her not to rush into anything- like she had many years ago at Hogwarts... but that was a different story.

Hermione's philosophy of love was that it never failed. It might have its ups and downs, but if it's true love, then it will find a way to work out. And of course, if it doesn't, then it was never love to begin with.

She might not have had someone to love romantically, but her friends supported her through everything and she loved them unconditionally for that. One of her best friends, Harry Potter, or better known as "The Boy-Who-Lived", was engaged to Ginevra Weasley, Hermione's best friend since her second year at Hogwarts. The two women were inseparable and because of their strong friendship, Hermione was pronounced her Maid of Honor. To be honest, Ginny and Harry were the perfect couple for one arguments would sometimes threaten to start another World War (Ginny always needed to throw a few dozen hexes at Harry before she calmed down) but in the end, their love was enough to suffice their relationship.

The third member of the original 'Golden Trio' was Ronald Weasley. Through his outgoing nature he had finally managed to court Lavender Brown into marrying him. They were both content with their marriage and soon were blessed with a child which they were expecting in the early days of April; Hermione was their healer. Ron and Harry worked together at the Ministry of Magic as aurors - both were remarkable at their jobs.

The war and Voldemort's defeat had changed each of them and because of the number of people they had lost in their lives, they made sure to stay extra close with one another; being afraid of lose anyone else. And because of this, all five of them had a strange bond that was practically impossible to break.

Christmas eve

"Draco, darling, don't forget that we need to buy new dress robes for your mother's Christmas party tomorrow night," said a very pregnant Pansy Parkinson.

Draco sighed exasperatedly. This was the fifth time his wife had reminded him of that. Pregnant women. He rolled his eyes.

"Yes, sweetheart. I remember. You told me that this morning," Draco replied with a smile.

"Oh sorry. I must've forgotten. I seem to be doing that a lot," Pansy said, as a slight red tint began showing on her cheeks. "I don't know. I'm so exhausted that I don't even want to shop. Do you know how rare that is for me?" she asked jokingly, sitting down on their bed. Despite the attempt at humor, even Draco could tell something was wrong.

"That's alright. We can get one of the house elves to go get them for us," Draco said reassuringly. He sat down beside Pansy and laid his hand on her forehead, alarmed by the hot touch. "I just want you to lay down and rest. I'll take care of everything, hm?"

"God, I love you so much... " Pansy murmured as she drifted off. Draco smiled and kissed her sweaty forehead.

I need to take her to see a healer, he thought to himself.

Draco Malfoy, a former Slytherin at Hogwarts had married his best friend, Pansy Parkinson. Key words: best friend. Of course, beneath all of it, he actually did love her and their unborn child was a symbol of it but it wasn't what he thought real love would feel like. The kind of sentimental love that he saw in muggle movies was what he had been hoping for in his love life... but fate had a different way of working itself out.

Of course, Draco had learned to convince himself that marrying Pansy was what was right for both of them.

After Draco's father, Lucius Malfoy, was killed by Voldemort, Draco was left feeling cold. His dark mark had caused many of his friends to be afraid of him and slowly it had grown to hate towards him. The only one who didn't neglect him in such a way was Pansy and he found himself slowly falling for her charismatic ways. Some things led to others and he had asked for her hand in marriage and she had accepted. They were both at ease, their worries were limited and they enjoyed each other's company. Soon, after an intimate night, Pansy had become pregnant and here they were.

Draco had really wanted a baby boy to carry out the Malfoy name. He couldn't imagine the disapproval of his relatives if it was otherwise.

A groan of pain snapped him back to life as he saw Pansy shifting on the bed. Her face was distorted with pain. She was always complaining about pains in her stomach and abdomen area... and it scared him. Maybe it's just one of those abnormal pregnancy symptoms, he thought, making a mental note to ask his mother.

Oh bloody hell. Mother. Christmas party. Dress robes, he'd almost forgot. Carefully closing the door behind him, Draco stepped into the hallway.

"Dobble!" Draco yelled, calling to one of his house elves. No less than a second later, a weird-looking creature apparated into the living room.

"Yes master?" it asked timidly.

"Go down to Diagon alley and get mine and Pansy's dress robes for my mother's Christmas party tomorrow. You know each of our sizes so make sure they're properly fitted. Is that clear?"

"Like a bell, master," Dobble replied and apparated instantly.

Ugh, Draco was not in the mood for Christmas festivities. Whatever happened to a quiet and peaceful evening? Instead he needed to spend tomorrow night with his mother's Mudblood friends. Don't take him wrong - he wasn't a prejudiced arse as he once had been when his father was alive- but he hated being associated with them.

Sitting down at his kitchen table, he pulled out several files that he needed to finish for work. Next week, he and Blaise had an assignment to complete with Pot-Head and Weasel, his nicknames for the two boys he had bullied at Hogwarts.

Draco rolled his eyes. He once again wondered why he had chosen to become an auror.