14 Weeks

"Good morning, Ms. Granger. Mr. Sterling is ready for you in his office."

Hermione picked up her stack of mail from Fawley's desk. "Thank you, Mrs. Fawley."

Fawley tapped her chin. "Ms. Granger, you're glowing. Are you using a new face cream?"

Hermione clenched her jaw. "Um, no. Nothing different."

Fawley shrugged. "Well, you look extra beautiful today."

Hermione chuckled. "Well, thank you for that, Mrs. Fawley." She hurried to her office and dropped her tote bag onto her desk. Her mail wasn't urgent so she unpacked her tote, grabbed her werewolf legislation draft and headed for Mr. Sterling's office.

Mr. Sterling was at his desk, his eyes skimming rapidly over the document in his hand. He looked up briefly. "Ms. Granger, come in. Close the door behind you."

She followed his directions and then took a seat in the plush chair across from him. "Good Morning, Mr. Sterling. I have the final section ready for your review."

He took the offered documents. "Very good, thank you. Ms. Granger. Was there anything you wanted to go over?"

She shifted toward the edge of her seat. "I was wondering, should we write arguments for passage of the bill."

He steepled his fingers. "That has crossed my mind. I've begun drafting my arguments for the whole bill. I believe once the Wizengamot hears the arguments for it, they'll hopefully pass that section with no difficulties. Are there any other sections you believe will meet some hurdles?"

She grabbed the ends of her blazer. "While I know the Wizengamot can be difficult, especially when it comes to something as progressive as this, I think the position of government support for the housing and health portion? I can imagine the fighting that will take place over this. I can write my own testimonial and arguments for this section or the legislation as a whole. I can have it for you by the end of this week."

"Excellent. Thank you for all your hard work, Ms. Granger." His warm brown eyes seemed to pierce through her.

She licked her lips. "Of course. This is a measure near and dear to my heart."

His gaze softened. "It hits rather close to home, I suspect."

She nodded. She rested her hands in her lap. She assumed she didn't need to tell him about Remus and his family, even though the British wizarding community knew he was a werewolf, it wasn't her place to share that part of his identity.

He leaned back in his chair. "All the more important to ensure easy passage of our bill."

Our bill? "Yes, sir."

"I'll update you on the latest draft," he dismissed.

She nodded again and stood up, heading for the door.

His voice cut through the air. "Ms. Granger, do let me know if you have any concerns regarding the department or yourself."

Her hand paused over the doorknob. "Concerns? What do you mean?"

"I noticed you were taking early leaves and a few sick days, more than usual." He grabbed a file folder from the end of his desk and got to his feet, meeting her at the door. "Merely, if you find yourself needing to reduce your hours, don't hesitate to inform us. We are open to accommodate you."

Her cheeks began to heat up for some reason. Her hand roamed around for the doorknob. She winced as she jammed her wrist against the side of the doorknob.

Mr. Sterling reached around her and she could smell his masculine cologne. It took all her willpower not to close her eyes and drink in the citrusy scent. And was that sage? He gripped the doorknob and opened the door. "Keep that in mind, Ms. Granger."

She blanked. "Yes, thank you, Mr. Sterling." She scratched the back of her head and watched him walk away toward the lift. What was that all about?

# # #

Harry scribbled out a quick note to himself to check in with Castle the next morning. He quickly glanced at his calendar. The month of May was almost over and Southgate's trial wasn't going to start until the first of June.

"Harry!"

He jumped, turning to glare at Ron, standing in the doorway of their shared office. "What the hell?"

"What the hell? Mate, what are you still doing here? Go home." Ron pulled his cloak over his broad shoulders.

Harry glanced at the clock and groaned. 7:20 p.m. How did it get so late? He pushed his paperwork together. "What are you still doing here then?"

"I left two hours ago but came back because I forgot the tickets for the Cannons match. Jenna is meeting me there."

Harry looked across the room and found Neville's desk completely void of a certain blonde.

"He left when I did." Ron shook his head. "Honestly, Harry. What's gotten into you? You're not usually this strapped to your desk. Come on. I'm walking you out."

Harry grabbed his jacket and followed him, securing their office door.

"What's got you so preoccupied?" Ron gave him a sideways glance.

"Nothing just lost track of time." They walked past the Aurors on night duty and entered the lift.

"See you tomorrow, Harry." Ron stepped into the nearest floo and promptly disappeared in a round of flames.

Harry hurried up to the secure London access point. As he stepped out into the street, he wondered if Hermione was still awake. He took out his phone and called her.

She answered after the third ring. "Yes?"

"Hey, have you eaten?"

"I ate a little while ago," she paused, "are you going to get food?"

"Yeah." He strolled down the street. He just wasn't sure where to go yet.

"Can you pick me up something from that French cafe in Islington?"

He crossed the street and headed toward the entrance for the metro. It was easier to blend in and disappear in a crowd. "There's a French cafe in Islington?"

"Yes," she said with a groan. "You know the Tesco that's down the street from Grimmauld Place?"

"Yes." He walked past the metro entrance and strolled nonchalantly down a narrow alley.

"It's just past the Tesco."

He hid behind a dumpster. "What if I just get you something from Tesco?"

She sighed, her breath crackled over the line. "But I don't want anything from Tesco."

He rested his head against the wall. "What did you want from the French cafe?"

"I want their apple tart."

"Apple tart? Hermione, I can get that at Tesco."

"But, I don't want Tesco's apple tart. I want the apple tart from that cafe."

Harry held back a groan. "What if I can't find that French cafe?" Maybe, just maybe, he could cut his travel short and just pick up something from Tesco.

"Why bother coming over then if you don't have my apple tart."

He narrowed his eyes at the brick wall in front of him. Damn it.

"And Harry, I've got leftover spaghetti if you want some. Make sure they give you ice cream with my apple tart."

And that's what led Harry to search up and down Upper Street looking for some damn French cafe.

He knocked on Hermione's door thirty minutes later, starving, and holding a preserved caramelized apple tart, a scoop of french vanilla expertly placed on top.

"Yum! Thanks, Harry." She took the take away container and walked into her small kitchen. "I have some spaghetti warmed up for you. Do you want some garlic bread with it?"

Harry closed the door behind him. "That'd be great, thanks." He followed her to the small table where a plate of spaghetti and a glass of water was set out for him.

She set a plate of garlic bread down in the middle of the table. She grabbed a spoon from the sink and sat down at the table. "Did you just leave work?"

He picked up his fork and twirled it in the spaghetti. "Yes."

"I thought you weren't working any serious cases right now," she dug her spoon into her food.

"I'm not. I just got preoccupied with some old cases." Harry grabbed a slice of bread. "Ron was actually the one who got me out of the office."

"About Ron," she scooped up some ice cream, "how are we going to tell him about the baby?"

He took a slow bite of spaghetti. How were they going to tell Ron? He wanted to tell him before they told anyone else. He's their best friend, he deserved to know individually. "What have you thought of?"

"I thought about inviting him over for dinner, to catch up and we'll just tell him, together." She took a breath, "Ron, I'm having a baby."

Their eyes met. Hermione bit her lip and dropped her gaze down to her apple tart. "What do you think he's going to say?"

He pushed his spaghetti around the plate. "I have no idea, but he'll be really happy about it. You'll see."

Hermione finished her food and put her trash in the bin. She settled herself back on the sofa, picking up the pregnancy book she had started to look through before Harry arrived.

"So, according to this book, baby is as big as a navel orange."

Harry grabbed his plate and walked over to the sofa.

"I'm in my second trimester. It says they're moving around in there, but I can't feel it." She set the book down in her lap. "I haven't felt anything at all. At least I don't think so."

Harry swallowed a mouthful of food. "What else does it say?"

"Baby is growing little hairs to keep it warm," she gasped, "and it says here the nausea should be going away. Thank god." She leaned back. "My boobs haven't hurt that much recently either. That's a nice break."

Harry set his plate down. He scooted closer to her. "Are you in any pain right now?"

She shook her head. "No, actually. It's been a while since I've felt this comfortable."

She closed the book, setting it down on her lap. "It also says I should consider buying maternity clothes soon." She laid her hands over her abdomen. "I'm not showing yet, though, and my clothes fit fine."

"Everybody is different," his voice was low, "and grow at different rates."

"The book says that too."

He smiled at her. "See, you should listen to me."

She rolled her eyes. She leaned back and let out a tired sigh. "I'm tired."

"Let's go to bed."

"To sleep?"

He pinched her leg. "Yes, just sleep."

She slowly stood up and walked to her bedroom. Harry cleaned up his plate and put the food away. By the time he was done, Hermione was already dressed in pajamas and laying in bed.

She held out a book. "Will you read to me?"

Harry shrugged out of his slacks and shirt, leaving only his boxers. He laid down beside her and opened the book. He groaned at the sight of the stuffy words and sentences. "Merlin, Hermione what are you reading?"

"Pride and Prejudice, leave me alone," she mumbled.

He briefly looked at her. She faced him and closed her eyes. He took a deep breath and began. He didn't really comprehend what he was reading. He was just reciting the words on the page.

He set the book down against his legs. "Catherine is a nice name," he told her.

But, she didn't respond.

Harry closed the book and set it down on her night table and contemplated whether or not he should lay back and fall asleep as well. He doubted Hermione would appreciate him just crashing on her bed.

"It is a nice name," she mumbled. She nestled further into her pillow. "Better than Fitzwilliam."

"Fitzwilliam? What kind of name is that?"

She shrugged but didn't answer.

Harry watched her for a few more moments. She looked so relaxed. He pushed some loose strands of hair out of her face. "Goodnight, Hermione." He kissed her forehead and then quietly slipped out of her bedroom.