Hermione stared at the stick in her hand for a moment before tossing it into the bin with the others. She'd run to the chemist this afternoon because she had to be sure. The spell could have been wrong, all twenty times she'd done it. Now, there really was no question. Muggle and magical methods were both positive.

She leaned back against the tiled wall and fought down the wild surge of magic flaring up within her.

The joys of magical pregnancy.

Morning sickness and accidental magic.

Bloody buggering fuck.

She'd thought this part of her life was done. Her children were mostly grown. Not that it mattered at all. Witches were fertile into their eighties. She knew the facts. She'd been careless just once.

One night of frivolity in a lifetime of responsibility hadn't seemed too big a deal. Her divorce was final. Her children were safely tucked away at Hogwarts. So, she'd had an extra pint and spent the night actually enjoying sex? Did fate have to deal her this hand?

Things with the Weasleys were tense enough, but this was sure to send the lot of them through the roof. Molly and Ron would be apoplectic. Harry and Ginny would both frown as they offered support that never materialized. She was going to be on her own. Not that her ex husband's family would keep their mouths shut.

Ron would love playing up as the scandalized ex. The papers would fill with lurid speculation. Rose and Hugo would probably spend their summer at the Burrow just to avoid her. This was going to hurt them. She rubbed the back of her neck. Just imagining telling them was intimidating, but that would only be the beginning. Rose's temper was sure to get the better of her, and Hugo would probably pull another stoic withdrawal like he had done after the divorce. There was no way to avoid the ugliness.

She looked down at her still flat stomach. There was a precious life in there. She hadn't planned for it. She would have to make some major changes in her life in the next few months, but this felt right. Despite everything, it really did. She pressed her hand against her abdomen. She wasn't going to fall apart.

There were things to do.

"We need to tell your daddy." She sighed and patted her stomach. "He deserves to know."

She didn't imagine he would want to be involved, but it was the right thing to do.

Harry glared at the report in front of him. There was no doubting this was another group claiming their place in the hierarchy of the stupidly evil. The damage they'd done in the muggle neighborhood had taken fifteen aurora and eight certified obligators to fix. The blood they'd used to paint their threat on the house that had once belonged to the Grangers had been feline, but it was still grotesque. This particular group was rather well informed. Finding the Granger's old place wouldn't have been easy, and the feline blood made it personal in a way.

He pushed back from his desk. He was so tired of Pureblood prejudice. He was tired of facing down the same old stupidity. Being an auror had been a link to his father, but he didn't need that link anymore. He had children of his own. He understood more about watching them grow than his father had ever had. He also knew a bit about protecting his loved ones.

He needed to have everyone shore up their wards and link into the office.

He'd prefer it if he could stash everyone at the Burrow until he'd rounded up this latest group of idiots, but Hermione wouldn't be welcome. Molly blamed her for the divorce, and she had a point. Hermione had asked for the separation after all.

Not that she had been wrong. Ron was happier now. Hermione seemed to be doing well, too. It was just inconvenient having to protect her separately. She was always so bloody difficult about it, but he'd have to talk her round. This particular bit of nastiness seemed quite focused on her.

Draco Malfoy glared at his daily diary. Most of his day was spent in useless meetings. The business ran itself. He didn't need to sit in this office twiddling his thumbs, but he didn't have any idea of what to do with his time. Since the divorce every woman of his acquaintance had decided to make an appointment. He'd spent hours being bored while they tried to impress him.

Medea Zabini was scheduled for that afternoon.

He grimaced. She was still beautiful, but he wasn't insane. A relationship with that woman was sure to end in death. Whether Blaise cut him to bits or she poisoned him, his life wouldn't be worth a knut. He didn't want to die, and he didn't want another empty, loveless marriage.

One of those was plenty. He'd done his duty. He had an heir. Scorpius was the joy of his life, but Astoria had not been inclined to offer up her womb for a spare. Pregnancy had not suited her. She'd been bloated and whined through the entire thing. Of course, motherhood hadn't suited her much either, so the whining had continued through the remainder of their marriage.

When she'd asked for the divorce, he'd been relieved.

He wanted more. He wanted something special. His mind turned inevitably to that night almost three months ago. His one off with Granger had been beyond his teenage fantasies, but he'd been stupid. He should have owled her the next day with an invitation, but he'd been too afraid that she would say no to even try.

He'd never really learned how to handle dating. It was rather difficult to attempt it now. He wasn't as reviled as he had been after the war, but he wasn't young anymore either. His hair was thinner, and he needed his glasses more than he liked to admit. He was still fit, but he didn't have the brash confidence of a young man any longer. The night with Granger, with Hermione, had been the best of his adult life, but the awkward morning after had left him floundering. He'd let his insecurities guide him into more regret. He sighed and looked back at his schedule.

There was nothing that required any great effort. He was so damn tired of this.

He pushed back in his chair when a silvery otter swam into the room. Rising to his feet, he glanced around. The patronus was here for a purpose, but he'd never actually received a message in this fashion. Most of his acquaintance couldn't produce one.

It swam around the room as if it were in a pool before it moved to him with sudden speed. He took a step back and felt like a fool as it swirled around him. The sensation of her magic played over his skin like exploding bubbles. Hermione Granger had sent him a patronus. He felt oddly giddy as it brushed against him. The thing spun around and floated in front of him for a moment.

"I know it's asking a lot, but could you meet me for lunch today? The Leaky? My schedule is flexible, so let me know whatever time works best for you."

Draco smiled as the otter swam around him one more time and dissipated. His day was looking up. He wasn't going to miss this chance.

Author's Note

I was working this one over for Waste A Moment when inspiration hit. I know I have too many of these things active, but getting my muse to behave has never been my strong suit. This one suddenly has more of a plot than a couple of awkward scenes so I decided it deserved to have a chance.

Let me know if you agree.

Thanks,

Anna