AN: Thanks for the reviews, and the support for my friend. You guys rock.

Draco watched as the sun started to come through the windows. Hermione was still asleep, her jaw had slacked and she proceeded to drool on the plump leather underneath her. He couldn't understand why he wasn't bothered by it, but he wasn't. Merlin, he'd deny it for years but he swore his mind had mentioned it looking cute at one point.

How could a drooling woman be cute? That was bloody impossible. But he felt for her, all she wanted was a child, he'd honestly thought it would have worked, but it didn't. He couldn't help but smile at the fact that they were going to spend another weekend together; maybe he'd make this one more interesting.

Hermione started to regain recognition when she felt a massive pounding on her head. God, she shouldn't drink, she hated drinking; but at the moment that felt like the best solution. Numb, numb was good when she didn't want emotions or to feel her heart.

She woke up starring into a puddle of drool on Malfoy's flawless couch. Shit. She whipped the excess off her cheek and looked around the room. The sun was pouring in from the bay windows, and Malfoy was smirking at her over the book in his hand.

"Hey" she said pushing her hair over to the side.

"Hey, sleep well?" he asked with a smirk

"Yeah, thanks for that. You didn't have to catch Me." she said glancing down at her lap

"I know, but it wasn't a problem." he said glancing back down at the pages in front of him.

She couldn't help but wonder if he was questioning their arrangement. What if he thought she wasn't responsible enough? And why in the bloody hell was she falling so often?

She shook her head and stood up, she felt dizzy but she needed to leave. Malfoy was certainly not allowed to see her hung-over. God, he could see her naked but hung-over, she wanted to laugh at herself. It was ridiculous but in her mind it made sense. Well, some sort of sense.

She got up to leave, when Malfoy spoke, "It'll be ok, Granger." she nodded and walked out of the Manor. Draco fucking Malfoy was comforting her.

She apparated home and quickly crawled into bed, even though it she'd already slept away half of the day, all she wanted to do was sleep. She wanted to forget, forget that she was excited about a child that didn't even exist yet.

Hermione awoke to her alarm. She didn't want to get out of bed; she didn't want to deal with anything today. She certainly didn't want to deal with work. When she finished she flopped back into bed, crawling under her comforter.

Malfoy waited in the lobby of the ministry for Granger to arrive, she didn't. He couldn't honestly remember when she had been late, she was never late. But with a shrug he went off to his office.

At noon, Hermione still hadn't pulled herself out of bed.

Malfoy started to worry around noon when he still hadn't seen her. He didn't think she'd drank enough to be dangerous, but he was slightly worried. He ignored these thoughts; Hermione Granger was more than capable of taking care of herself.

Two weeks flew by, Hermione managed to yank herself out of bed after two days. She knew it was difficult to get pregnant; and she'd lived without a child for this long. She'd be able to continue surviving.

Hermione immersed herself in work; she wasn't going to pine over the idea of a child. She'd done that long enough, she wanted a child more than anything in the world but she wasn't going to stop living.

She knew she was only one week away from another one of their weekends. She just hoped that this time it would work; or she'd probably ask Malfoy to just go with her to Saint Mungo's. Even as fun as the last weekend was, she desperately wanted a child.

But not any child, the perfect child; her child, her brains, her passion, but his looks, his blood, and his drive. That's what she wanted and she wasn't going to let anything stop her.

As she sat shuffling papers around her, the door flew open and her boss started talking in an exceptionally rushed manner, "Granger, Three weeks from now I need you in Bulgaria for a conference." Shacklebolt stated. It wasn't a question, it was a command. She had never had a problem doing anything for work before, but quickly checking her mental calendar she knew it wouldn't conflict with her schedule.

Malfoy sat at his desk, twirling the crystals in the chandelier with his wand. He didn't know why he was so focused on this. How had Granger managed to push something so huge, straight onto him? And why was he so obsessed with it? Why couldn't he stop thinking about it? Probably because he didn't believe that woman could separate sex from feelings, yes, that's what had him confused?

When his door flew open, he knew it was one of two people. Granger who somehow had lost all boundaries with him, or his boss, Shacklebolt. It turned out to be the later, and as Shacklebolt rambled on about some weekend in Bulgaria. Malfoy just wrote the date down on spare parchment and couldn't really focus. His mind jumped everywhere.

The next week was full of mindless thinking, unexplained emotional struggles, and pulling documentation for a weekend of work conferences with foreign dignitaries. Neither one mentioned the Bulgarian weekend, actually Malfoy and Granger hadn't crossed paths since Hermione's drunken escapade.

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