Study the Australopithicines for my archaelolgy final tomorrow? No, I think I'll write an unrealistic fanfic. I use unrealistic very losely as it is Harry Potter and there is magic and shit. Oh, whoops. Excuse my language.

This is what happens when Hermione gets preggers and Draco become wise. It's a bit of a hate on Ron but hey, in this story he deserves it.

I do not own Harry Potter ect ect.

"Oh, Merlin" Hermione sobbed as she sat on the loo at work, the poor dear. "Why me?" And she continued to sob, rather loudly, with her underpants around her knees until there was a knock on her cubical door.

"Hermione?" Said the timid voice. "It's me, Hannah. Will you come out?" Hermione stopped her crying with a large, ungraceful sniff and righted herself.

"I, uh... I'll be right out, Hannah—Miss Abbott. Sorry." She whipped her face haphazardly with the back of her hand and exited her cubical. She came face to face with her boss. Hannah Abbott, Head of the Ministry of Magic's Muggle Liaisons Office.

"Oh, Hermione. Come here." Hannah held out her arms and encompassed the teary witch in a warm hug. "Now, tell me what's happened." She said, taking on a motherly tone and rubbing circles over Hermione's back. Isn't she lovely? Isn't she wonderful?

Hermione had been having a horrible week. By Tuesday she had discovered Mr. Ronald Weasley in a rather compromising position with an anonymous witch. After much begging and pleading on his part, despite her better judgement, she had agree to give him another chance. Call it hormones. Give her a break, her period was due any day. Wednesday came along and brought with it the news that Harry and Ginny, now married, were moving to Scotland to be closer to Harry's work at Hogwarts. Well done, Harry. Holding that defence against the dark arts position for three years now has been no easy feat. On Thursday (that is, yesterday), feeling the pressure of work, Hermione took a bit longer lunch to surprise Ronald so as to make sure he knew she was trying to forgive him. By the evening she swore she would never forgive him again. Today simply had to be the worst. Hermione had awoken feeling uneasy, given the past few days who could blame her? Then it hit her. She was a week late! Wait, no. She was.. six, seven... click click click... ten, eleven... click click. Two weeks late. TWO WEEKS? Oh, no. Can't be. She was.

Pregnant.

So, Hermione and Hannah, sat on the ministry bathroom floor, their sensible heels discarded. The three disappointingly positive muggle pregnancy tests clutched in Hermione's pale hand. Now that you mentioned it, she was looking rather pale.

"Are you going to tell him?" Hannah asked as she picked at her chipped, pink nail polish. Hermione gave a non-committal grunt. "You have to tell him."

"I know." Dry eyed and red faced, Hermione's emotions had be worked so hard this week she simply must be out of tears. That can be the only reason she had stopped crying. There was silence a moment longer then Hermione, out of curiosity, checked her watch. "Merlin's beard! I've got to go. He'll kill me for sure. I'm so sorry Hannah... about the.. Well, the state of me today."

"Honestly, Hermione it's fine." She consoled, strapping her shoes back on. "We have been friends a long time. You let me know if ever you need a day to yourself." Hannah smiled warmly. "You know I can excuse you at the drop of a wand."

Hermione nodded and thanked her friend (her very good friend, it seemed) once more before zooming out the door, down the corridor and into her office, barefoot. She is literally barefoot and pregnant. The office she shared with a grouchy Mr. Malfoy. Junior, that is, but as intimidating as his father none the less. Rushing in Hermione apologised profusely to her partner, scattering the pregnancy test on her desk in attempt to adjust the strap on her shoe.

"Where on Earth have you been. We had the meeting with the advocates on the Marigold case. I had to handle it on my own!" He was getting angrier and angrier.

"I know, I'm so sorry. I was in the bathroom and..." she tried to diffuse his oncoming rage. If he started she might have to do something drastic... Like punch him again. Or cry.

"Well, next time you spend hours in the bathroom remember to check your face. You look like a niffler's nest." He said harshly, turning away from her and opening another file. She looked down, a bit ashamed at her unprofessionalism. She spotted the tests again, sprawled offensively over her tidy desk. That's right, messing up her tidy life. Well, not particularly tidy. She began to weep again but tried to hid it. Come on, Hermione. You have to get yourself together for all our sakes. You know what they say about stress in your condition. Stifling her sobs, she opened a file and began reading, the three tests now neatly piled to one side next to the photo of Ron visiting Charlie in Romania. Scratch that last part, will you? Ron's on the floor now.

"Will you stop that!" Malfoy popped up from behind his file. "It's bloody annoying."

That was it. He's done it now. "Malfoy! Just... stop. Please. Just stop." She pleaded. Head down again she got back to work. I really thought he was going to get it. He sighed then, decided. Up he got, and as a Malfoy does, he sauntered over to Hermione's desk, perching himself on the corner like a little bird. Cheep cheep, skicky-beak.

"Alright, what's your problem, Granger? You have been moping around the office all week, becoming progressively more depressing and today you have begun to openly weep. You are making it hard to concentrate." He folded his arms over his chest, waiting for an explanation. Well, you could say he means well but one can never tell with a Malfoy.

"I'm sorry. Oh, I'm so sorry for making it difficult to concentrate." She was sincere. To Hermione, there was nothing worse than being denied a safe and comfortable working environment.

"No, it isn't that." He said. "What I'm worried about is what in Merlin's name has unhinged you so thoroughly that you have dropped you working standards. That's just no you at all, Granger." They weren't exactly friends but when you work in close proximity to another person for as long as they had, you have to put aside your abhorrence for that person. No matter how deeply rooted and well nourished it may be.

"I'm...Well, you see..."

"Spit it out, now."

"I'm pregnant, Malfoy." He did not expect that. "And, the father is a good-for-nothing, cheating... Ugh!" And she began to weep. Not again.

"Hmm." He said. What else could he say? "You sure?"

"Pretty sure." She said, motioning to the pregnancy tests.

Oh, they were right there. Next to his hand where he had placed it on the desk. "Am I right in saying that you.. ah.. well, you..?"

"I peed on them, Malfoy. Yes, I peed on them." She was exasperated now. He emotions were running haywire. He stood from the desk.

"So..." Said Malfoy after a while, trying to break the tension that wafted into the room like a dense fog. "You are going to be a mum."

"I suppose, yes. I am, aren't I." She hadn't thought of that. Well, she had but more so in the terms of Oh, my. I'm having a baby to Ronald Weasley. She was going to be a mum. She always wanted to be a mother but oddly had never really considered marriage or settling down. I suppose they go hand in hand, don't they? No, not necessarily. She began to think of things a bit differently.

"Hermione," He addressed her. Well, that was rare. "You are the best in this department, besides Abbott and I, of course. I'm sure you are more than financially stable enough to raise a child. What you have to think about is if you are emotionally ready and if you want to do this alone, or with the father. Either way, you know you will have a lot of support. An overwhelming amount if you ask me." He was now shuffling through papers on his desk again. When did Malfoy become so... wise?

He was right. "You're right."

Of course, he was. "Of course, I am. I'm a Malfoy." He smirked, smugly. Hermione nodded to herself, then. Determined.

She finished the day with an air of resolution and floo'd to the Burrow (where Ron had moved back to since the first...incident) directly from work, marched into the kitchen unannounced and blurted "Ron, I'm pregnant!" The Weasley family, including Ron, gaped at her. Speechless, they were. "It's yours." She continued quickly, before she lost all her confidence. "Obviously because I have a moral conscience. I'm keeping it and, while I will accept your parentage, we will not be getting back together." And with that she fled. Rather cowardly, actually but one can only muster so much bravery in a day. Even a Gryffindor. Once through the floo, Hermione blocked her end to prevent being followed, before Ron could even get out of his chair and bellow "Hermione!" into the empty fireplace.

Now, Hermione it's time to think. It's what you do best. "I can do this." She said out loud to the vase on the coffee table as she paced. "Malfoy was right. I am financially stable enough for this. I have plenty saved and I can continue to work" This to the two seater lounge before she plopped down in the middle. Malfoy being right was a troubling thought, come to think of it but she pushed that out of her mind for now. She had more important things to think about. She believed she was emotionally ready enough to raise a child. The idea went from being the emotional, proverbial hay that broke the camel's back to something she quite liked. And yes, she was surrounded by support. Oh, she had to tell her parents and Harry and Ginny. Ginny probably already knows, Hermione. Ron's a big blabber-mouth, remember. Just like his mother. And if Ginny knows then Harry does. "Tomorrow." She told herself. "Tomorrow I'll do it. And I'll have to book the healer. And I should start eating better." Okay, Hermione. Make a list.

Tomorrow

Get up early.

Go for a walk.

Make healthy breakfast.

Drink more water.

Throw away all junk food.

Call Mum and Dad to arrange a time to meet.

Floo Ginny and Harry.

Make healthy lunch.

Book a healer's appointment.

Stop by work to pick up next week's files.

Head by Flourish & Blott's to pick up pregnancy books.

Rent movies (it's a Saturday night after all).

Start pregnancy book or two.

Watch movies.

Don't be too late to bed.

Yes, that sounds good. Nowhere did she put grieve over failed relationship with Ronald Weasley. Why? Because she is done with him. She has someone far more important tp care about now. Okay, now. Bedtime, Hermione.

Yeah, it's a bit weird. I'm trying out a new sort of writing style inspired by french writer Anna Gavalda but she writes mainly in first person. At least, the last one was in first person and im pretty sure the one before that was, too. Regardless, she is wonderful and I wanted to try and capture her style of the comedic narrater who has their own oppinions on the story. As if the narrater knows the charaters personally. Anyway, if you dont like it then don't read it or if you like the concept but the writing style bugs you then let me know and I'll consider changing it. I bet no one has read this part but if you have then thanks for the effort. Also, it will become more Draco-y. Maybe the narrater will follow him anound sometime. I just had an idea: I'll name the narrater. I think I'll call her Trisha but if you have something better let me know. I apologise for the rediculousness of all of this but I'm sleep deprived and thinking about bipedalism and cranial capacities. I'm going to bed now. Thanks for reading.