Friday arrived and still Hermione's health wasn't top notch. Due to the fact that they were hosting a celebration the following day, she decided that it was time for a visit to her doctor.

Dr. Haggler worked from St. Mungo's Hospital. He was a short, stout man with very little hair atop his head. He wore black thick-rimmed glasses that made him look like an oversized bug. However, his personality was what struck Hermione so deeply; he was a caring man and only had his patients' best intentions in mind. When Hermione Apparated into his office on Friday afternoon, after leaving work early, he greeted her with a smile.

"Mrs. Malfoy! How nice to see you! I trust everything is well?" He gestured for her to take a seat in the chair beside his desk where he was working.

"Everything's going well," she answered, returning the smile, "but I've been feeling a little sluggish and ill lately. We're hosting a party at our house tomorrow and I want to be in good shape, if not great shape."

Dr. Haggler nodded, concern creasing his middle-aged face. "Let's take a look, shall we?" He approached her in the chair, wand out before changing his mind. "Why don't you lie down on the examination table instead? You might feel more comfortable."

Hermione obliged and climbed on to the small platform of a table where she lay down and immediately felt sleepy. However, her mind kept her awake with racing thoughts as Dr. Haggler ran his wand over her body, about three inches in the air. It was like he was scanning her for something. When his wand shuddered, he moved it back to the spot where it had begun to act funny.

"Hmmm," he said, his brow creased. He poked at Hermione's abdomen for several moments, causing much discomfort for her. She was just about to ask him to stop when he told her to sit up.

"It's not bad news," he assured her with a smile, sitting back at his desk. "Not bad news at all. If I'm correct, and very rarely is my wand wrong, you are expecting a baby."

Hermione's mind felt numb, although relief swept through her body for at least knowing the truth. She had expected this; it was as if little alarms were ringing in her head. Subconsciously her hand found its way to her stomach as Dr. Haggler filled her in on the details.

"You're about six weeks along, as far as I can tell. My prediction is," he screwed up his face and aimed his wand at her stomach again. A jet of pale yellow light followed a short incantation. "Your baby will be due on November 27th," he determined finally.

"Wow." No matter how much Hermione expected this, her mind still reeled with a mix of excitement and fear. She wasn't sure what kind of a mother she would make. Dr. Haggler must have sensed her hesitation for he stood up from his desk chair and put his arm around her.

"Congratulations," he said softly. "You and Mr. Malfoy will be great parents." He glanced at his watch. "You should be getting home. I imagine you'll want to tell him soon."

"Yeah," Hermione muttered as Dr. Haggler began instructing her on her own health and care.

"Don't do anything you normally wouldn't do," he directed her. "But you're fine to run your life as you would usually. If you're not already, start eating right and take it easy. When you start to feel dizzy or nauseous, sit down and take deep breaths. You'll be fine," he repeated, smiling at her encouragingly.

Hermione left the office that day and walked a few blocks from the hospital before Apparating back home. A glance at the clock there told her it was a quarter to five; Draco would be home sooner than expected. Quickly, she hurried upstairs for a shower, her mind still racing.

When she returned back downstairs, she found Chevy cutting up carrots. "Mr. Malfoy won't be home for dinner," she told her in a brisk voice and Hermione didn't bother to correct her on the name. "He sent an owl to say that there's been a few problems with the Floo network and he'll be home as soon as he can. I guess it's a good thing you didn't try to take the network to get to the hospital." She looked up at Hermione's face and stopped short. "So? What did Dr. Haggler say? Is everything alright?"

"Oh, everything's fine," Hermione replied airily, waving her hand and stealing a carrot from the cutting board. "Where's Shelby?"

"Right here," came a muffled voice from behind her. Hermione spun around to see Shelby struggling into the kitchen, her arms full of laundry baskets.

"Let me help!" Hermione cried, dashing to Shelby's rescue. They managed to settle the four baskets by the table and Hermione helped Shelby fold the clothes. "How has everything been here today?"

"Fine, as usual," Shelby replied, folding a pair of socks. "You got quite a few junk owls from places that want to sell you long distance owl rates and rubbish like that. I tore them up."

"Good." Hermione finished folding one of her blouses for work. "So Draco didn't say when he'd be home tonight?"

Chevy shook her head. "Nope. Just said they had a backup on the Floo network and people were dropping out of random fireplaces like flies. I'm just glad you didn't take the Floo network earlier or else we might have been making dinner for no reason."

Shelby looked up. "Right, you're appointment. How did it go?"

"Fine."

"No medication? Nothing serious?"

"Nope. Just overworked," Hermione lied. She considered the help some of her closest friends but for some reason, them finding out about the baby before Draco didn't seem right.

Shelby shook her head in a condescending way. "I don't know why they work you so much over there. You're still young; you need to save your strength." Shelby stopped folding and bent over slowly to ease her own aching back. "Lord knows some day it will catch up to you."

Hermione was listening, but her mind had tuned out. She had considered everyone's reaction so far, except for two very important people: Harry and Ron. Ron, especially, had never taken the marriage seriously, even after so many years. Now, with Hermione pregnant, it would finally sink in to him that Hermione and Draco were married and married for good. How was she going to tell him? A letter seemed too impersonal; especially after three years without contact. It didn't seem right to drop him an owl saying, "Hey there, Ron, sorry we haven't chatted in so long. By the way, I'm pregnant. Hope to talk to you in another three years, love Hermione." No, that simply wouldn't do.

Draco didn't arrive home until well after midnight. He climbed into bed exhausted and Hermione pretended she was asleep. She didn't want to tell him just yet; not to mention the fact that she wasn't sure how. She wanted it to be special. Almost afraid of his reaction, given recent conversations, she couldn't truly picture how he would act. Sometimes, she assumed that he would act like a child and throw a temper tantrum in front of her. Other times, she guessed that he would take the news like a man and be happy for the fact that he would have someone else to share his love with. Hermione drifted off into sleep, confused, yet strangely exhilarated.