A/N: Uh...hey guys! Sorry it's been a while. This was a hard chapter for me to write, for some reason. And sadly, I start school on Monday so updates will probably be every one to two weeks, depending on how awful my classes are.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own Harry Potter. lesigh.


Today was the day. It was a generally gloomy late-November afternoon, clouds hanging low and gray over the rows of buildings that surrounded Diagon Alley. Every few minutes I anxiously glanced through the kitchen window that provided a lovely view down to the street below. Ginny would be arriving shortly, to provide a meager amount of moral support. She could only stay for a little while, she had a Quidditch game that evening in Edinburgh.

After what must have been the twentieth glance out the window in just as many minutes, the red-headed woman rounded the corner and waved happily to me from the sidewalk. We had made up the weekend after Draco's engagement announcement party, and all had been well since then. She had even given me a small, stuffed bunny for the baby after I had begged for her forgiveness.

"Hermione, stop making a fool of yourself. I'm not here to yell at you," she said, holding out a worn, pink (it possibly could have been red at some point) stuffed animal. "This was mine when I was little, and I had planned on giving it to my first niece or nephew."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "You have two already, Gin."

"Yes, but Fleur is their mother and she was 'not going to let anything zat dirtee touch ze precious child.' Toad of a woman," Ginny scoffed, "I didn't even bother trying to give it to Dominique after that. And so now you're the next one...so here."

The peace offering had brought a sense of calm over the two of us, and I was so ecstatic that she had finally come to terms with my pregnancy, and the father.

"Hell, I could have gotten knocked up by some of the Slytherin scum I'm so prone to shagging whilst drunk out of my mind. Things like this happen to the best of us," she encouraged me one morning after a particularly grueling Quidditch game of hers that had lasted well through the night.

Finally, she walked in through the front door, and greeted me with a large grin before shedding her raincoat.

"Awful day, isn't it?" She quipped, hanging her coat on a hook by the door.

"Ugh," I sighed, "don't remind me."

She walked towards me, putting her hands on both of my shoulders. "Now, we all now my brother's going to be a prat about this. But Harry...he's reasonable. He may not like it, but he knows he'll have to accept it," she said, a closed-lipped smile gracing her face before she leaned down to kiss my cheek. She was the only Weasley child that wasn't at least a good eight inches taller than me. She was only five.

"I'm still worried about Ron, though. It'll be like you, but instead of quietly storming off it'll be a good half hour of 'how could you? He's our enemy!'"

Ginny laughed. "You're right. Can't put it off any longer though," she said, gesturing towards my ever-growing midsection. It felt like it had doubled in size in the past few days, and had grown just as uncomfortable. I was glad the cold weather had finally settled in, so my daily use of oversized jumpers had gone generally unnoticed by Ron.

I turned away from her to finish rinsing some plates in the sink. "Maybe I just won't tell them about Lucius," I said, running a soapy sponge over the mug I had used this morning for tea.

One of the chairs at the table dragged along the tiled floor as Ginny pulled it out to sit down. "Yes, because when you tell them you're pregnant they're definitely not going to want to know who did this to their precious, virginal Hermione," she said, her voice sour with sarcasm.

I scoffed. "I don't know why they get so worked up about my sex life. I've slept with both of them, you know, and they probably haven't even compared their trysts."

Ginny laughed, her hand closing over her mouth. "It's because Harry still hasn't told him about it. He told me that while we were dating," she pointed out.

Sleeping with Harry was a huge, colossal mistake. It was during our many-month camping trip, after Ron had left, and I was miserable and Harry was just trying to comfort me. It wasn't even awkward, almost too not awkward. We were so comfortable with each other, and for a very brief time, I thought that maybe we could make it work. But then I realized he was my absolute best friend, and I could not allow sex to ruin what we had. It wasn't worth it.

"The longer he waits the worse it's going to get," I murmured, drying off the various dishes.

"Which is exactly why," Ginny began, standing up to help me put the dishes away, "you can't put telling them about the baby off any longer. Today's the day."

Harry and Ron arrived soon after Ginny had left. I was careful to not lean into them too much when they hugged me, and precariously shifted around my jumper to remove any notion of a bump.

Harry had brought along some Indian take-out for lunch, and the conversation we had was generally humorous and goodhearted, just as it always had been. Finally, as they had both been going on and on about the most recent Quidditch matches, I decided to clean up.

While I was at the sink cleaning off the utensils we had used, Harry sidled up to me.

"Are you all right? You've been a bit quiet today," he queried, drumming his fingers on the counter top.

I nodded fiercely. "Yes, I'm perfectly fine. Just a little...anxious, I guess."

"Oh, okay," he said, sighing, before turning around to head towards the sofa where Ron had relocated.

I grabbed his upper arm before he got too far from me. "I have to tell you both something, but you cannot...you absolutely cannot be angry with me, all right? I know Ron will be furious, but you are my rock and I don't think I could handle you going ballistic," I said under my breath, soft enough for Ron not to notice.

I saw a flash of fear go across his eyes, and he nodded once before joining Ron.

When I joined them, my hands were shaking. I cleared my throat, and over the years, that had become my signal for them to shut up. And, obediently, they did just that.

"I have some news," I said, fiddling around with the hem of my jumper, not looking at either of them.

It was eerily quiet between the two of them now. Ron shifted in his seat, facing towards me.

"Well?" He goaded, throwing his head back to yawn. Harry said nothing, just merely placed his hand on my knee for reassurance. I looked at him, biting my lip, and he gave me one of his quirky half-smiles.

I was so insanely nervous I could feel bile rising in my throat, and I couldn't understand why this was so difficult for me. Ginny was probably spot on in her predictions of their reactions, but every scenario that ran through my head was twice as worse than what she said. I wasn't even facing them now. Harry's hand had retracted from my knee when I brought them up underneath my chin.

"Out with it, 'Mione," Ron said, looking a little impatient.

"Can't be that bad, can it?" Harry added, this time reaching out to touch my arm. I leaned away.

"Mum still thinks you're pregnant, by the way. She told me she's certain the last time we saw her." Ron laughed after saying this, probably from the absurdity of it. I remember the look on Molly's face when Ron and I ran into her at George's shop a few days ago.

"Well, Hermione, you're looking...lovely, aren't you?" She had said, smiling, her eyes scoping out my ever-changing body. I just hoped she had the tact to not mention it to her sons when I turned around to leave, but of course, she just had to tell someone.

I'm not bitter, but she should have realized that if I hadn't told anyone by then, obviously I didn't want Ron to know of all people.

"She's right, though," I murmured into my knees, and squeezing my eyes shut tightly.

It felt like all the air was sucked from the room. When I finally mustered up enough courage to look up at them, their faces were near identical. Mouths gaping, eyes as big as saucers, faces that had lost their color. Harry finally shook himself out of his stupor, and all he could stumble over was, "Seriously? I mean, really? Really pregnant? Herm...Hermione, are you sure?"

"Harry, I'm three months along," I deadpanned, watching him process the information.

"Oh," he whispered, his voice higher than normal.

I scoffed as I stood up, generally disappointed in their reactions. I had, however, shaken myself up so much that my last meal was on the verge of being lost, so I headed towards the bathroom just in case.

Before I reached the door, I heard Ron's voice growling in what I could only describe as fury. "Who...who did this to you?"

I placed my hand on the doorknob, not bothering to turn around. "Not now, Ron," I pleaded, my voice catching in my throat a little. For some reason, I hadn't expected for either of them to ask me that question. Stupidly, that thought never crossed my mind. Telling them that it was just a result of a one-night stand seemed futile now, they wouldn't accept that.

Lucius would be furious if he found out that I had told them. I shuddered thinking of his reaction.

"No, Hermione, right now," he demanded, and I could hear him stand up from the sofa. "I know you've been sneaking blokes in, I've heard them. And isn't it funny that Harry noticed that you disappeared from Malfoy's party in thirty minutes? Couldn't stand to be around him, eh? You think I haven't noticed these things, but I have. I'm not as daft as you lead yourself to believe!"

My stomach dropped. I turned quickly on my heel, trying to look as unfazed as possible, but the tears welling up in my eyes gave everything away. "What are you trying to insinuate, Ronald?"

Harry noticed the inflection of my voice, he knew that this would be worse than the usual bickering. "Uh, Ron, maybe you should just leave this alone for now," he suggested, standing in between us.

"No, I don't think I will," he spat, trying to shove Harry out of the way. "Hermione's just shagging away with fucking Malfoy of all people, and you expect me to leave it alone?"

I guffawed. "Draco Malfoy? You are daft, Ronald Weasley. Never in my life would I even consider sleeping with him!"

Well, it was true.

"We are not doing this now, Ron, all right?" Harry said, placing his hands on his shoulders, shoving him towards the front door. "You've got a Quidditch game to get to now, right? Go support your sister," he suggested.

It was one of Ron's off weekends, but we knew he would still attend Ginny's game. Now, I'm not so sure.

"Don't fucking patronize me, Harry," he growled, before taking one last look at me and turning to head out the door.

Harry stood there quietly. Finally, his shoulders shrugged and he turned to me. "He'll come around," he said, his quirky smile gracing his face yet again.

"Thanks," I said quietly, trying to mask my sadness and rushed back towards the kitchen. "I'm going to make some tea, do you want any?"

Harry followed me slowly, and I caught glances of his mouth opening and closing when I moved to the cupboard to grab some mugs. Like he was trying to figure out what to say, to tiptoe around my fragility at the moment.

"What, Harry," I snapped, irked by his apprehension.

"Well, I just – um, what Ron said earlier...I mean, was he right? About Malfoy?" He stammered, hands shoved into his pockets like a schoolboy about to be punished for his misdoings.

I stopped midway from setting the teapot on the stove, and swung around fiercely. My mouth opened to throw a fiery remark about how Malfoy is a disgusting creature and I wouldn't touch him even if he were the last man on earth. But I shut it immediately, not wanting to dig myself any deeper in my lies.

My stance softened, and so did Harry's after he had prepared himself for one of my verbal rampages, and reluctantly, I realized that if I could trust anyone, it would be Harry. He owed me his life several times over (I mean, really, that boy would have been dead the second he walked into Hogwarts if it weren't for me), and he didn't have the temper that Ron did. He would just be confused for a very, very long time.

Which is completely understandable, because I myself am befuddled by this predicament I've gotten in.

"Practically," I quavered, and my eyes found his instantly as he figured out my implication.

"And by that you mean..." he trailed off, running a hand through his constantly disheveled hair.

I inhaled deeply. Here goes nothing.

"Lucius Malfoy," I stated, my hands gripping each other in embarrassment.

Harry sat down at the table (more like fell into a chair that just happened to be at the table), and I followed suit, empty mugs still in my hand.

"Harry, I don't want you to think any less of me," I began, but no words followed. I tried to make eye contact with him, but he wouldn't look at me.

"Did he hurt you?" He demanded, his voice strained.

I shouldn't have been taken aback by his question, but I was. "No, of course not! It was all," I paused, searching for a decent word to describe what we had, "mutual, I guess."

"You guess?"

"You're being difficult," I huffed, crossing my arms under my chest.

"Well, you would be too if I had told you I knocked up, say, Pansy Parkinson," he said, crossing his arms in the same matter.

"Harry, just stop," I whined.

"How did this even happen? I mean, not only is his son our age, but you just happen to be the one thing he hates most. It's just a little hard for me to wrap my head around this," he said, letting out a sigh of general discontent.

"I don't know...I just, well, I guess he seduced me. But he kept coming back, and then I kept coming back and we just had this...thing, I guess you could call it," I explained, trying to keep it as vague as possible. And lying a bit, because honestly, Harry doesn't need to know that I was the only one who kept coming back. That just sounds needy.

Harry's eyes widened for about this fifth time that day. "Wait, this was ongoing? You and Lucius Malfoy were basically lovers, that's what you're trying to say."

I let out a nervous laugh. "Hah, no, we don't...we don't love each other. It would be worse than Ron and me. He's very aggravating."

Harry laughed, and finally, the air around us cleared. "Lucius is aggravating? Wow, I didn't realize that at all, Hermione," he jested.

I giggled in return, and looked up at him, a smile across my face for the first time that day. "Thank you, Harry," I said, reaching out to grab his hand across the table.

"Can't really be mad at you for too long, Hermione, it's just so hard," he said, a little melodramatically, enticing another laugh from me.

We carried on the conversation amiably, and we covered all topics from Teddy to his Auror training and to what I wanted the gender of the baby to be.

"Oh, I haven't really thought about it, Harry," I said, walking him over to the front door.

"Well," he began, smirking, "I've already got a godson, just hoping for a goddaughter now."

"Well," I mocked, "I just don't think these things always work in Harry Potter's favor."

He leaned in to give me a hug, and this time I didn't hesitate to press myself fully against him. I hadn't hugged him like that in a very long time.

"I don't know if you've heard," he said, opening the door and heading right out into the chilly air, "but I am the Chosen One."

I covered my mouth to stifle a laugh. He wasn't going to get one of those from me for another of his 'Chosen One' quips. "That doesn't mean anything, Harry, and you know it!" I called after his receding form, and he turned around to give me a last wave goodbye.

Smiling, I leaned against the door frame as I watched him disappear around the corner, Crookshanks making figure-eights between my legs. Things were starting to fall into place, finally. Now I just had to wait for Ron to come around.

I should probably give myself a few weeks for that to happen.


A/N: Ah, words cannot describe how much I adore Harry and Hermione's friendship! Please, please, please review! They make my day!

Bailey