Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

Chapter 7

Hermione suffered all of the latest gossip, Quidditch news, and Ron's abysmal table manners continually through dinner. He was now, thankfully, helping his mother carry dessert from the kitchen.

Hermione excused herself to the loo.

After splashing some water on her face, Hermione wearily looked into the mirror. She took a deep breath, and braced herself for the storm that was Molly Weasley.

As she was passing by the kitchen, she heard Ron and Molly talking in hushed tones.

"I think all she needs is a push in the right direction."

"I don't know, Mum."

"Nonsense, Ronald. I've known plenty of witches who've unexpectedly found themselves 'in the family way' and in the end they were delighted. Hermione is just too headstrong for her own good. Trust me, she needs a few children to take her mind off all this foolishness she's into. Now, take this. The potion is expired, so it is no longer potent. It tastes and looks the same. She'll never know, and in a couple of months you'll be making your announcements."

Hermione froze.

She wanted to run away from the house screaming, but her feet felt like lead.

She could hardly breathe. She was so shocked and angry.

She buried all emotion, and trying for all the world to not look like a frightened rabbit, sat back down at the table.

After dessert, which Hermione could not bring herself to touch, Ron turned to her, "Oi, Mione. You alright? You look a bit peaky."

"I'm OK Ron, I think I just need a good night's sleep. Maybe we should go home." she mumbled.

As they were leaving, Hermione saw Molly lean over to Ron conspiratorially and whisper, "Maybe she doesn't need that potion after all! Ha!"

As if. Hermione thought.