On her few days off, Hermione liked to go window-shopping in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. Several of her friends (usually wives of Draco's fellow workers) thought it would be more appropriate if she worked in a more respectful atmosphere. They turned down their superior noses at taverns and the Three Broomsticks was at the top of their list.

That Wednesday morning, Hermione decided to take a quick window tour of Diagon Alley. She approached the Quidditch shop with apprehension; every time she neared the building, she felt an amazing sense of homesickness for Hogwarts. She would remember summers when she, Harry and Ron would pick up their school supplies then look anxiously in the windows of the Quidditch shop to see if anything had changed. Hermione sighed, fighting the urge to press her hot forehead against the cool window. A sudden flash of unbearable heat overcame her and she struggled to the nearest bench where she sat for a moment until the spell passed.

"Hermione Granger?"

The voice startled her and she turned towards the thickly accented voice. The speaker's shadow loomed behind her, blocking out the bright sunlight from her view.

"Seamus Finnigan?"

"Yeah!" A bright smile crept across the face of Hermione's former schoolmate. He hadn't changed a bit since their days at Hogwarts, except perhaps his hair appeared a little darker. She stood up to greet him and he pulled her into a hug, nearly causing another spell of heat and dizziness. "It's been forever! How are you?"

"Fine, Seamus, just fine," she replied, pulling back and straightening her hair. "How about you? Married yet?"

Seamus shook his head, the familiar grin refusing to fade. "Nah," he answered. "Was seeing a girl but things didn't work out."

"Sorry to hear that."

"Well, these things happen." His eyes travelled over Hermione's face. "What about you? Did you and Weasley ever get married?"

Hermione forged a laugh that came out high and squeaky, unusual for her. "No, no, we didn't," she confessed, but halted to say anything more.

"Well?" Seamus looked at her expectantly and his eyes briefly travelled to the gold band on her finger. "Who did you marry?" His face changed and his eyes widened. "Don't tell me, was it Potter?"

"Not exactly." Hermione took a shuddering breath. "Draco Malfoy."

For a split second, Seamus looked appalled. Then he laughed hysterically, doubling over and slapping his knee. "You're joking, right?" he asked when he straightened out again. "You're pulling my leg. There's no way you and Malfoy could have married."

Hermione smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, there is," she said softly and Seamus' laughter stopped.

"The name Malfoy is well-known," he said, still looking a little distrustful. "Why didn't I hear about this marriage?"

"It was a quiet ceremony."

"Wow." Seamus looked absolutely stunned and Hermione couldn't help but giggle.

"It's not really that big of a deal, is it Seamus? People get married everyday and people change."

"I'll say," Seamus retorted, staring at Hermione as if he barely knew her. "You've changed, Hermione. The old Hermione would never have even dreamt of marrying someone like Malfoy."

"I meant he's changed," Hermione said feebly, looking down at the ground. Seamus' words stung; had she really changed that much? Was that why her friends no longer wanted to be in contact with her?

"Yeah, well, I guess," Seamus said, looking behind him. "I have to go, Hermione. Take care and say hi to Weasley and Potter for me." He departed before Hermione had the change to tell him that he probably had a better chance of seeing them before she did.

She watched as he hurried away and contemplated his comments. Had she really changed that much? It was true, in their early years at Hogwarts, no one would have ever suspected that Hermione Granger would marry Draco Malfoy, her enemy. But people changed, didn't they? That's what life was all about: changing and learning to adapt to certain aspects of change. It was only natural that she see the other side of Draco after so many years.

A strong fit of nausea swept over her, causing her thoughts to momentarily cease and her mind to go blank. She breathed deeply, waiting for it to pass before deciding she should head home and lie down for a bit. If these attacks didn't stop, she would have to go see her doctor and that was the last thing she needed: a doctor telling her to get more rest and eat properly. It was hard with her work schedule, but she did try.

Back at home, the kitchen crew was preparing lunch. "Mr. Malfoy sent an owl," Chevy called. "He'll be here for lunch, in about twenty minutes."

"Mr. Malfoy?" Hermione thoroughly hated when the help referred to Draco as 'Mr. Malfoy' for it simply confused her. "Mr. Malfoy is what you call Lucius," she had told them many times. "At least, that's the polite version of what you call Lucius."

"Sorry, Draco will be here for lunch shortly," corrected Shelby and Hermione smiled briefly.

"Thanks, girls," she answered, although she was in no mood to have company for lunch. She had considered skipping the meal altogether to take a quick nap but decided that might only increase her ill feelings. Instead of heading upstairs, she took a seat at the kitchen table and stared off into space.

"You look tired," Chevy commented, breaking up lettuce into a bowl and staring at Hermione with concern. Behind her, her wand was madly stirring a pot on the stove. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Hermione replied faintly, a small idea forming in her brain. But she pushed the thought aside, although it remained firmly rooted in the rest of her conscious being. Now was not the time for dreamy thoughts. "I'm just a little off today, that's all."

"Today, yesterday and probably tomorrow," Shelby replied in her brisk manner. "Maybe you should have that condition checked out."

At the sound of the word 'condition', Hermione winced, for that was exactly what she was afraid of. "No, I'm fine," she said with an artificial smile. "What are we having for lunch? I'm starved."

Draco arrived home shortly afterwards and they indulged themselves in a lovely meal that suited the day just fine. After their lunch, they sat outside on the swinging seat while the kitchen staff cleaned up.

"How was work?" Hermione asked, still feeling a little queasy. She had put on a big show of eating everything she possibly could so that Draco would not think anything was wrong.

"Fine, once we got everything sorted out," Draco said, leaning back into the chair. "I knew that if I come home, though, I would not want to head back."

"I don't blame you," Hermione muttered, staring into the blue sky. She almost wished she had to work that day for fear of acute boredom. That's usually what happened when she had a day off work after working for such a long string of days. Her mind kept flashing to the one subject she wanted to avoid and finally, without further notice, her mind managed to amble out a coherent sentence.

"Do you want to have kids?"

Draco looked at her before reverting his eyes back towards the roof above them. "Is that a subtle hint for something?" he asked, his eyes twinkling happily.

"No," she replied, looking down at the deck. "It was just a question."

"Well, one day I do."

"Why not now?"

He heaved a tremendous sigh. "I don't know. I guess I'm just scared that I'm going to treat our children the way my father treated me. Not that I think I will, but it's one of those subconscious things. It's always there."

Hermione nodded, unable to speak as another wave of dizziness washed over her. She managed to keep her head as Draco jumped up and proclaimed that he had to get back to work.

"I'll see you tonight," he said, kissing her gently on the cheek. She only nodded, her eyes transfixed on some faraway scene. When he was gone, she took a deep breath before standing up. She hoped that these feelings were going to pass soon.