Disclaimer: In an attempt to become more like JKR I started playing minesweeper during bouts of writer's block…only it didn't so much work out for me. Instead of the brilliance that is the HP series, I got precious little writing done in the last few months and I ended up with an unhealthy minesweeper addiction to boot – never mind the fact that I can't even touch JKR's high score of 90 seconds at expert level. I come in at a paltry 134. *Hangs head in shame* Anyway…
Chapter 6 – Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop
"Okay. Spill," Ginny commanded, resting her steaming cup on the table and glaring impatiently.
"For the last time, there's nothing to tell!" Hermione exclaimed in exasperation, eyeing her friend from across the small booth.
"Nothing to tell?" she repeated, arching her red eyebrows, incredulity clearly etched across her face. "Come on Hermione, first you show up at the Minister's Ball after assuring everyone multiple times you're not coming. Secondly, out of all the men at the ball clamoring for your attention, you choose to dance with Draco sodding Malfoy. Then you meet with him out on the balcony alone, at which point you both disappear for the rest of the night, and you're honestly going to sit here and tell me NOTHING HAPPENED!"
"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying," Hermione reiterated for what felt like the hundredth, and hopefully last time. "And will you please keep your voice down?" she hissed, glancing around the tiny tea shop, hoping no one was eavesdropping on their conversation. She hadn't seen any members of the press buzzing about that morning, and so far the staff, along with a handful of quiet patrons at The Daily Brew, had left them alone.
"Well, the cover of this morning's Prophet tells a very different story," Ginny pressed, slapping a copy of the morning paper on the table.
Hermione was beginning to think that pesky periodical may well be the death of her. Just when she thought the media had finally moved on and grown tired of gossiping about her supposed 'Rekindled Romance with Ronald,' a new headline had popped up that very morning linking her to none other than Draco Malfoy.
Golden Girl of Gryffindor caught consorting with Billionaire Business Mogul Malfoy!
Despite her annoyance, she at least had to give them credit for creative use of alliteration. She merely skimmed the article itself, unable to stomach any more speculation about secret affairs and scandalous rumors. It was all errant nonsense anyway, the kind that gullible witches and wizards ate up like breakfast, complete with a full colour photo. The photo was particularly damning. Even Hermione had to admit that, taken out of context, an objective observer might easily mistake them for lovers.
The photographer had caught them dancing together, at the precise moment when Malfoy had spun her into his chest and slipped one hand around her back, resting it low on her waist. She shivered slightly as she remembered the feel of his cool fingers on her bare skin, and she stared down at the picture on the front page to hide the flush creeping up her cheeks. Hermione watched in embarrassment as he revolved them on the spot, humming low in her ear as she smiled broadly over his shoulder. Of course she hadn't been smiling at Malfoy. Minister Shacklebolt singing along to Celestina Warbeck had been the cause of her mirth, but the photo didn't capture the true object of her attention. To the whole of wizarding Britain, it appeared as though she and Malfoy were sharing a terribly intimate moment. She shuddered again and refocused her attention on Ginny.
"And since when has the Prophet cared about printing stories bearing even the slightest resemblance to the truth?" Hermione countered waspishly, flipping the paper over and pushing it to the side.
"Normally I would agree with you," her redheaded companion conceded, "but I saw the two of you with my own eyes, and so help me Merlin, I'm not going to let the subject drop until you tell me every last juicy detail."
Ginny had been badgering Hermione for details about the previous evening since they'd arrived in Diagon Alley that morning. Hermione supposed she should have seen it coming. The two friends had a long-standing ritual of meeting for breakfast after formal occasions and important dates in order to recap the evening's events. This tradition dated back to the morning after the fiasco that was the Hogwarts Yule Ball, when Hermione had escorted Victor Krum to the dance, much to the consternation of Ron.
Hermione sighed. She had really been looking forward to spending some time with Ginny sanschildren, brothers and spouse. Hermione loved Harry and Ron as if they were her own brothers, but she and Ginny had developed a special bond over the years, partly because she was a much better correspondent than her husband and brother combined, but mostly because Hermione had always valued Ginny's ability to deliver sound, non-judgmental advice. Even when Hermione had confided in her that she didn't think her relationship with Ron was going to work out; Ginny was completely supportive, and even went so far as to help smooth things over with the highly disappointed Mrs. Weasley.
They had grown somewhat apart over the last several years, what with the demands of career and family, but Ginny could still read her like a book. She was annoyingly observant and didn't miss a trick. Hermione knew she would have to tell Ginny something of her meeting with Malfoy last month, but she certainly didn't want to go into the whole debacle of Malfoy's halfwit private investigator and ridiculous job offer. She stared out the window at the iron-grey sky, watching the light drizzle speckling the glass and debated how much she could reveal.
"Alright, here's the big juicy story," Hermione began, deciding on the half-truth. "Last month when I first arrived in town, I ran into Malfoy at The Leaky Cauldron..."
"What were you doing there?" Ginny asked, pouncing on the small detail with gusto.
"It was late and I hadn't sorted out where I'd be staying yet so I took a room at the Leaky," Hermione shrugged as if it were no big deal.
"I told you a thousand times you could stay with us!"
"I know, but as I said, it was quite late and I was too exhausted to be social…"
"…but you felt like being 'social' with Malfoy?" Ginny asked with a wry smile.
"Ugh. Gods, Ginny, no! I just ran into him, we talked for a bit, he left and I went to bed. End of story."
"Well then what was last night about?" Ginny fired, undeterred.
"He happened to be standing next to me at the bar when Ernie MacMillan cornered me. It seems he hasn't changed much from the pompous git he was back in school."
"Yeah, he's always trying to suck up to Harry at the Ministry, but sod Ernie MacMillan, get back to the good part. Tell me more about Malfoy."
"If I didn't know better, I'd think you had a bit of a crush, Gin," Hermione said, smiling.
"Ha-ha. Nice try 'Mione. Get back to the story."
"Fine," she huffed. "Ernie was being a smarmy git as usual. Malfoy must have noticed I was uncomfortable and he asked me to dance so I'd have an excuse to get away from MacMillan. That's it, really."
Ginny took a sip of her tea and looked as though she was processing this information, scant though it was.
"What happened on the balcony?"
"Nothing," Hermione lied. "I was talking on the phone with Kevin, my assistant in New York, and Malfoy came outside for a cigarette. I needed to tend to some important work matters, so I left," she added vaguely. "I have no idea where Malfoy went, what he did or with whom, but he certainly wasn't with me."
"So you didn't talk to him at all while you were out there?"
"We may have exchanged a few pleasantries, but that was all." Hermione was beginning to feel uncomfortable with all of the lying by omission. Ginny didn't look particularly convinced in any case.
"Strange," Ginny mused. "He must have apparated straight off the balcony then, because no one saw him after that."
"Why would any of you be looking for him?"
"We weren't. Some French girl, a friend of Fleur's I think, came up to our table and asked if anyone had seen him. I told her I saw him go out onto the balcony and she left, presumably to go look for him. I guess no one told her we're not on such friendly terms with Malfoy. Don't get me wrong, Harry has done a bit of business with him and there isn't any open animosity, but he's not someone we'd invite round for tea if you know what I mean."
"I know all about our history with Malfoy, thanks," Hermione said warily.
"I just meant that, if you were interested in becoming more 'social' with him, I don't think it would be such a big deal…" Ginny said in an attempt at an offhand manner.
"I have no idea where this is coming from, and I can't imagine what might lead you to believe I would have the slightest interest in Malfoy."
"I can't imagine why you wouldn't!" Ginny said, unable to contain herself any longer. "Look at this picture!" she added, grabbing the newspaper and shoving the moving photo in Hermione's face. "You can deny it all you want," she said with a knowing look, "but deep down you have to admit, there's chemistry there."
"That's ridiculous!"
"It's not! I mean, he's smart, stable, handsome, rich, age appropriate – not like that last bloke…"
"You mean the bloke YOU set me up with!"
"What? You said you were looking for a more mature man," Ginny said defensively.
"Mature, yes, but that guy was positively ancient. He was practically old enough to be my grandfather!"
"Well he looked a lot younger in his picture and that's beside the point. Give me one good reason why you shouldn't go for Malfoy."
"One!? I could give you a thousand reasons! One; he's Draco Malfoy, my childhood nemesis. Two, even if he wasn't a total prat, I'm leaving soon and don't want to start a relationship with anyone! Three, you said he was out with some French girl. I'm not the least bit interested in starting something with someone who already has a girlfriend, least of all Malfoy…" Hermione ticked the reasons off with her fingers.
"I said give me one good reason, not three, lame, half-hearted ones." Ginny smiled, looking like the cat that ate the canary. "Okay, so he's Draco Malfoy. So what? You said yourself that you've had a few pleasant conversations with him. Harry's worked with him. He can't be that bad anymore. I'm sure he's outgrown his…more prattish tendencies."
"What difference…?"
"Two," Ginny went on as though she hadn't heard her, "Who cares if you're leaving soon? That's no reason not to have some fun with the guy. It's not like you have to marry him…"
"Oh, please Ginny…" Hermione practically gagged.
"THREE!" Ginny shouted over her friend, "I wouldn't worry about any French girlfriend. She couldn't mean that much to him if he left her last night without even saying goodbye…"
"Like I said, total prat," Hermione said as if that settled the argument.
"Maybe so," Ginny said, raising her hands in mock surrender, "but you've got to admit, he's one tall, sexy prat."
"Why thank you, Red," came a voice from behind her. It was the last voice on earth Hermione wanted to hear at that moment. "I wouldn't let Potter hear you talk like that. As I recall, he was always the jealous type, wasn't he?"
Seriously, Hermione thought. What in the name of Merlin and the Four Founders had she done to deserve this? The universe was clearly punishing her for something.
"Speak of the devil," Ginny said, positively beaming, without the least hint of embarrassment.
"Granger," he said, acknowledging Hermione with a smile. "It seems like despite our best efforts we made the front page after all."
"Hello, Malfoy," Hermione said, exhaling through gritted teeth, "yes, I suppose we have."
Malfoy flashed her one of his trademark smirks…an unholy, make-you-want-to-slap-him-silly kind of smirk.
"I confess I'm surprised to find you still in town. Based on the tone of your conversation last evening, it seemed like you were needed back in New York…"
"My assistant Kevin is perfectly competent and able to handle things in my stead, thank you very much," she snapped acidly.
"I'm sure he is," Malfoy said with a polite smile. "It's just that the Hermione Granger I remember was never quick to delegate her work to anyone else. It must be something important that's keeping you here."
"I don't see how that's any of your busi-"
"She's here to help me and Harry when the new baby arrives," Ginny answered, interrupting the now fuming Hermione.
"How wonderful!" Malfoy exclaimed, in a tone that conveyed the best imitation of sincerity Hermione had ever heard. "May I ask when you're due?"
"Of course," Ginny replied delightedly, placing her hands demurely on her stomach, "I'll be two weeks overdue tomorrow actually."
"Well, I guess your little one must be very comfortable in there."
"Oh, he is," Ginny said, thoroughly charmed, "at least that's what I keep telling my Mediwitch. She's been trying to convince me to try some experimental charm to induce labor, but I won't hear of it. I've already had three children au natural and I'm perfectly happy to wait this one out until he's good and ready to make his appearance."
The two carried on like that for several minutes while Hermione tried to compose herself. She scanned the room surreptitiously to see if any reporters had followed Malfoy into the shop, but it appeared as though he was alone. Miraculously, no one seemed to be paying them the least bit of attention.
When Ginny suddenly excused herself to go the loo, Hermione rounded on Malfoy.
"I thought I told you to stop following me!" she whispered vehemently. "Honestly, you're like a case of Dragon Pox that won't go away."
"Granger I hate to be the one to burst your deluded bubble, but I haven't been following you anywhere. This happens to be my favorite café in all of London. I come here all the time," he said smugly.
"I'm sure you do," Hermione replied, sounding thoroughly unconvinced.
As if on cue, a waitress appeared at the table, where Malfoy had made himself quite at home occupying Ginny's vacant seat, and asked if she could get them anything.
"My usual please, Wendy," he said with a charming smile.
"Coming right up, Mr. Malfoy," Wendy the waitress said, returning his smile, obviously pleased he'd remembered her name. "And for you?" she added, turning to Hermione.
"Fine, thanks," Hermione said with a curt dismissal, as if the waitress had come round with the sole purpose of irritating her.
Wendy hardly seemed to notice Hermione's mounting ire and hurried away to fix Malfoy's breakfast.
"You know Granger," he paused for dramatic effect and leaned across the table, lowering his voice conspiratorially, "if I didn't know better I'd say it's you who can't seem to stay away from me…"
He was deliberately trying to rile her up and she knew it. It wasn't going to work though. For the entirety of the last week she'd been jumpy, skittish and sick with worry about her stalker, only to discover Malfoy had been the cause of it all. Last night, she finally felt like she had gained the upper hand with him after embarrassing herself at The Leaky Cauldron and she wasn't about to let him tip the scales in his favor again. He could sit there at his ease and chat with Ginny all he liked, but Hermione was not going to rise to his provocation. If he wouldn't leave her alone, she would simply have to ignore him.
"Listen Malfoy," she said, lowering her own voice to match his tone, "I don't know what you're playing at, but I don't want any part of it. Understand? Now please, go away."
"Come work with me."
"No." she replied, flatly.
"Come on, it's a temporary position, no more than a month and I'll pay you double, no…triple your current salary."
She looked up and cocked her head to the side, exhaling slowly as though she were mulling it over, then quick as a flash she resumed her deadpan expression, locked her eyes onto his and said, "No. Please leave me alone."
Without waiting for him to respond, she snatched up the newspaper from the table and held it up in front of her, resolutely avoiding both the photo on the cover and the man himself who was currently staring down at her with a bemused expression. He was silent for so long she actually allowed herself to hope that he'd gone, but then he spoke again.
"It's actually a rather flattering photo if I do say so myself."
She pointedly ignored him.
"I mean, I look spectacular," he continued, undaunted, "and you don't look half bad yourself, Granger."
Hermione had to exercise every last bit of patience she possessed not to simply roll up the newspaper and start beating Malfoy about the head and neck with it. He was like a fly she desperately wanted to swat.
"Even if by some miracle no one actually reads the article, the picture alone…" he continued, trailing off as if choosing his words with extreme care, "…you know what they say about a picture painting a thousand words…"
"Malfoy, if I believed everything I read or in this case saw in The Daily Prophet, then you would've been married a dozen times over and I'd have at least six children by now."
She cursed herself for rising to Malfoy's bait and was almost glad when Wendy the waitress came back to their table to deliver Malfoy's 'usual,' an English muffin with butter and jam and a cup of what looked like black tea. At least if his mouth was full he wouldn't speak. He thanked the simpering Wendy before tucking in to his breakfast. They sat there for several long, awkward moments, where the only sounds that passed between them were the crunching of Malfoy's toasted muffin and the rustling of Hermione's newspaper.
"What are you reading?" he asked after he'd finished eating.
"If you're so interested, why don't you go buy a copy for yourself?" she blurted out before she could stop herself.
"I have no interest in that rag whatsoever," he said, gesturing at The Prophet with disdain, "but I find myself terribly interested in whatever it is that's making your brow furrow in such concentration."
"What my brow does or doesn't do is none of your concern," she said, hitching the paper up higher so that it covered all of her face.
"You didn't answer my question," he said, tugging a corner of the paper down and peering at her over the top of it.
"Would you look at that?" she retorted and snapped the paper back in place.
"Granger, I'm trying to make polite conversation here. You're being terribly rude."
"You're not going to leave me alone are you?" she asked, sensing defeat.
"No, I think I'd be quite happy to sit here and chat with you all day," he said, flashing an ingratiating smile.
"Fine," she huffed indignantly, "if you must know, I'm reading an article about the debate over whether or not hippogriffs should retain their 4X classification of 'Dangerous' or be downgraded to a 3X 'Approach with caution' as defined by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Of course it's ridiculous they've been classified as dangerous creatures for this long…" she bristled, scanning the rest of the article as she spoke, "…looks like that old hag Dolores Umbridge actually wants their status to be upgraded to a 5X or 'Known wizard killer/Impossible to train or domesticate/Should be exterminated.' What a complete nutter! It's a wonder they still allow that woman to step foot inside the Ministry."
"I think she's absolutely right."
"You've got to be kidding me! There isn't a single documented case of a hippogriff killing, or even doing any kind of lasting damage to a human."
"Excuse me, but perhaps you've forgotten about the time one of those bloody beasts nearly tore my arm off!"
"Oh yes, how could I forget? 'I'm dying, I'm dying…It's killed me!'" Hermione dropped the paper and cradled her arm to her chest, mimicking Malfoy's panicking cries from third year Care of Magical Creatures class.
"Very funny, Granger. Would you like to see the scar?" he replied testily, pushing up his right shirtsleeve.
"I don't see a scar."
"It's very faint, but it's there," he said indignantly, shoving his sleeve back down.
"Don't be so melodramatic. It was only a scratch. I'm sure Madame Pomfrey had you sorted out in about five minutes. Though I seem to remember you milking your 'injury' for at least two weeks after that. 'Professor Snape, I can't cut my daisy roots because of my arm. Sir, I need someone to skin my shrivelfig…'" she mimicked again in Malfoy's whining, prepubescent drawl.
"What happened to leaving the past behind us where it belongs, eh Granger?" he said, recalling her words from their first meeting. "It's not like you were the picture of perfection back in school either. 'Ooh, ooh I know the answer! Professor, pick me!'" he said, shoving two sugar cubes over his front teeth and frantically waving his arm in the air, doing a buck-toothed impression of a teenaged Hermione.
Before Hermione could even think about forming a retort, Wendy the waitress flew out from behind the counter and rushed over to their table to inquire if Malfoy needed anything else. He hastily removed the now melting sugar cubes from his mouth and, with as much dignity as he could muster, politely requested the bill. Hermione nearly died with laughter. Malfoy quickly regained his composure though his cheeks were tinged slightly pink. Hermione's laughter continued so long she could scarcely draw breath.
When her laughter finally started to die down, Malfoy placed both of his hands on the table leaning in to her once more, his expression suddenly grave.
"Look Granger, seriously, would you at least consider-"
"My goodness, you two certainly look like you're having a good time," Ginny said, an amused expression playing about her lips and several bulging shopping bags slung over one arm.
"Ginny! Where were you? I thought you'd just gone into the loo…" Hermione couldn't believe she had completely forgotten about her friend.
"That was nearly half an hour ago," Ginny replied easily. "I had some shopping to do and you two looked like you were…uh…" she grunted and grasped her stomach as she lowered herself into the booth next to Hermione, "…having a rather intense conversation…" she exhaled slowly, "…so I didn't want to interrupt." When Ginny had finally finished speaking, she looked completely winded and rather pale.
"Gin, are you alright?" Hermione asked with concern.
"Yes, but…uh…" she said, exhaling another ragged breath and wincing in pain, "I think my water just broke."
"Oh my god! Is it really time?" Hermione asked excitedly.
"Yeah," Ginny said with another grunt of pain, "I think it is. Hand me my phone, will you? I need to call Harry."
"Sure, okay," Hermione said and rummaged through Ginny's purse. She held up the little device with slightly shaking hands and dialed Harry's number before placing the phone to Ginny's ear.
"Damn it!" Ginny practically barked after only a few seconds. "It went straight to voicemail."
"It's alright, just dial again and I'll try Ron, they're bound to be together," Hermione said, trying to remain calm while she took out her own cell phone and dialed Ron's number.
Meanwhile, Malfoy was still sitting on the opposite side of the booth staring at them both with a completely dumbfounded expression.
"Voicemail again," Ginny fumed.
"Same here," Hermione said. "They must be playing Quidditch," she reasoned.
"I told him a hundred times to keep his fecking…ow…phone with him at all times…ah!" Ginny cried out, doubling over from the pain of the contraction.
"Okay, take it easy, Ginny…just breath. Everything is going to be fine."
"I'll kill him!" Ginny shouted, slamming her fist on the table. People were starting to stare.
"Why don't we get you to the hospital first and we can worry about killing Harry later, alright? Malfoy, help me get her up," she added, addressing Malfoy for the first time since Ginny's reappearance.
"Shouldn't we call someone? A Mediwizard or…?" Malfoy questioned, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of approaching Ginny.
"No, we have to get her to St. Mungo's," Hermione said, placing one of Ginny's arms around her shoulder and gesturing for Malfoy to help lift her from the other side.
"Unless you want me to give birth in this café we'd better get out of here in a hurry because if these contractions keep up…aah-oow," she yelled, "I don't know how much longer this kid is going to wait."
"Okay, don't worry about a thing. We're going to get you there in plenty of time," Hermione said as she and Malfoy hoisted Ginny out of the booth and began gathering her things.
"We…we are?" Malfoy said, looking more than a little bit terrified.
"Yes, we are," Hermione said sternly, then addressing Ginny in gentler tones, "I'm going apparate over to the burrow to collect Harry and the rest of the family, while Malfoy takes you over to St. Mungo's, alright?"
"Al-alright," Ginny stammered, breathing through another painful spasm.
"So…I just have to side along apparate her over to St. Mungo's then?" Malfoy queried, clearly trying to get a handle on the situation.
"No!" both witches shouted at him at once, causing Malfoy to flinch. "Are you daft? She can't apparate while she's in labor!" Hermione chided as she tossed a few coins on the table and bade Malfoy to carry Ginny's shopping. "Even the floo network is too dangerous to attempt after the second trimester."
"Then how the hell do you propose I get her there, carry her on my back?" Malfoy snapped, falling behind the two witches as they exited the café.
"You'll have to take a muggle taxi I suppose," Hermione said, pausing for a moment outside The Daily Brew to get a better grip on Ginny. "She took the Knight Bus to get here this morning, but I wouldn't fancy a ride on that horrid contraption in her condition. Are you coming or what?" she added, looking expectantly at Malfoy who was standing in the doorway of the café looking positively stricken.
"I don't know anything about muggle transportation and I don't have any muggle money. Why don't I go find Potter and Weasley and you take her to the hospital?" Malfoy suggested hopefully, tossing the shopping bags over his shoulder and grabbing Ginny's other arm with his free hand.
"You can't. The burrow is unplottable," Hermione explained as they walked, "and unless Molly or Arthur gave you the address, you wouldn't be able to access the house. And even if you could, the Weasley's own a lot of land. Unless you know exactly where the Quidditch pitch is, you'd never find them in time."
"What about that talking patronus thingy you Order lot used to use? Can't you cast that charm to contact Potter?" Malfoy asked in desperation as he and Hermione guided Ginny down the High Street towards the back entrance of The Leaky Cauldron.
"No. I can't," Hermione said. "I never learned that spell," she added almost sheepishly.
"Well, why the bloody hell not?" Malfoy demanded. "You know practically every other charm ever invented!"
"For one thing it's really complicated, advanced magic," Hermione said defensively, raising her hackles, "and for another, who was supposed to teach me? Kingsley? Or how about McGonagall? Because they were both rather busy rebuilding all of wizarding Britain at the time if you'll recall. Besides, there really wasn't any need for it after the war ended and the lines of comm-"
"As fascinating as I'm sure this is," Ginny interrupted, "some of us are trying to have a baby over here!" she shouted, putting an end to their conversation.
"Right. Sorry, Gin!" Hermione apologized quickly and they continued down the seemingly never-ending main thoroughfare of Diagon Alley.
Hermione tried to keep up a steady stream of encouragement as they walked, while in between bouts of screaming and crying, Ginny was cursing a blue streak and muttering a variety of death threats under her breath. Malfoy had mercifully kept quiet, cowed both by Hermione alternately barking instructions at him and glaring daggers every time he tried to protest, and his obvious fear of Ginny who maintained a vice-like grip on his hand. Their unlikely trio was causing quite a stir, even more than was usual in the bustling shopping centre.
Hermione, who was now in full on crisis mode, repeated her instructions to Malfoy one final time before leaving him to care for Ginny on his own.
"You're going to go straight through the pub to the muggle street on the other side, hail a taxi – it shouldn't be that difficult at this time of day – and tell the driver to take you Purge & Dowse on Mare Street, Hackney. It's only about three miles away so it'll be a short ride, no more than fifteen minutes with traffic."
"But…" Malfoy started.
"Will you SHUT UP?" Ginny boomed, causing Malfoy to wobble a bit, "Merlin's sake, he acts like he's the one who's about to push a tiny human through his-"
"Here," Hermione said loudly, when they finally reached the entrance to The Leaky Cauldron, and she shoved two twenty pound notes into Malfoy's fist. "That ought to be more than enough to get you to St. Mungo's from here."
"But I don't know where to…"
"The driver will know how to get us to Hackney and I know how to get in through the visitor's entrance once we get there," Ginny said with a long suffering sigh, before doubling over with the pain of another contraction.
Hermione couldn't imagine a situation where Malfoy would be more out of his element. She was almost sorry she wouldn't be there to witness what was sure to be his first ride in a muggle taxi. The thought gave her a moment's pause.
"You listen here Malfoy," Hermione threatened, "don't you even think about putting her in that taxi by herself. You are to escort her all the way to St. Mungo's and you will not leave her side until a trained Healer takes over. If anything happens to her I will hunt you down myself. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, fine…all right," he agreed grudgingly.
"Geez Malfoy, it's like you've never seen a woman give birth before."
Hermione threw a sideways glance at Ginny. If she wasn't mistaken, Ginny was putting on a bit of show and having some fun at Malfoy's expense. Ginny winked at her. Hermione beamed.
"You're going to be fine Ginny. Remember your breathing. I'll have your idiot husband here in no time, okay?" Hermione said with a reassuring smile, kissing Ginny on her already sweaty forehead.
"Okay, 'Mione. Hurry back," Ginny panted as Malfoy tried to maneuver her and the shopping bags through the back door of the pub at the same time and getting stuck in the process.
"See you soon," Hermione called as she turned on her heel and sprinted toward the nearest apparition point.
She couldn't suppress a smile as she distinctly heard Ginny say over her shoulder, "Relax Malfoy. I do this all the time."
A/N: Minesweeper aside, I am terribly sorry that it took me this long to update. I promise I am not giving up on this story. The next time I get stuck I think I'll try writing a little one-shot or maybe even start a new story just to get the creative juices flowing again. I'm going to try to get back to some semblance of a regular posting schedule, even if it is (gulp) only once a month. It wasn't only writer's block that was cramping my style for the last few months though… Real life has also been rearing its ugly head from time to time. I'll try not to let pesky things like work and family get in the way of my writing schedule in future
To business: The song for this chapter is taken from Landon Pigg's debut album aptly calledCoffee Shop. I'd like to reiterate my author's note from the last chapter once more: a little foreshadowing never hurt anybody. (It's almost as awesome as alliteration.) Also, just becauseweknow that they're probably going to wind up together at some point doesn't meantheyknow it. ('They,' being Draco and Hermione, you know, because talking about them like they're real people is totally normal and not all unhealthy.)
Mediwitch/wizard and Healers: My idea is that a Mediwitch or wizard is akin to a paramedic or a nurse or even a midwife. They have medical training, but are not as well versed in the more advanced healing spells that a Healer would perform. As we all know, Healers are of course similar (though vastly superior) to muggle doctors.
Declassification of Hippogriffs as dangerous creatures: According toFantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, the Ministry Classification System deems Hippogriffs to be a XXX – Competent wizards should cope, but for the purposes of this fic I have them classified as XXXX – Dangerous/requires specialist knowledge/skilled wizards may handle.
Mega thanks to AidenK77 for being super amazeballs at betaing not to mention a killer research assistant!