Early Wednesday morning, Hermione hurried out to work with the burden of last night's thoughts on her mind. She got through most of the day in a fog and returned home around two in the afternoon to find Harry there alone.

He was in the sitting room on the armchair, his feet propped up on the footstool, reading the Daily Prophet. He smiled when he saw her, his eyes lighting up, and set down the paper to talk.

"They haven't changed," he commented as Hermione took a seat on the sofa across from him. "The Daily Prophet, I mean. They will still print anything that's not even remotely accurate."

"They're more like the Quibbler now than anything," Hermione agreed. She was having an internal struggle; dare she tell Harry how she felt that the three of them had grown apart or should she keep it to herself? She didn't want to force a friendship that truly wasn't there. On the other hand, she wanted to cling onto it and not let go for the life of her. It was her one link back to sanity and back to the days she loved best at Hogwarts. It was Harry and Ron that made the memories bright; it was Harry and Ron that made the days happy after Draco had shot them down. How could she think of telling them that they had grown apart?

"You look thoughtful," Harry commented, sitting up straight and looking at her, concern flashing through his eyes. "Are you okay?"

She smiled quickly. "Fine. Just a little tired is all."

"Why don't you lie down for a bit? I'll wake you before supper."

She shook her head. "Where's Ron?"

"Shopping. Hogsmeade. He was thrilled when he found out how close you guys lived." He grew serious. "I sometimes think he's rushing things with Abby. I know he likes her and all but I don't want him to push anything."

Hermione's heart began to beat rapidly and the butterflies returned to her stomach, although she was sure this time that it wasn't the baby. "What does that have to do with shopping in Hogsmeade?" she questioned.

Harry sighed. "I shouldn't be telling you this right now because I'm not positive, but that hasn't stopped me before." He leaned closer to her after looking around. "I'm not sure but I think he's shopping for an engagement ring."

Hermione's heart hit the floor. Here she was, happily married for four years, carrying her husband's baby, yet when she heard this news she felt like bursting into tears. It was like the final straw of the friendships. The Ron Weasley she knew would never be too anxious to jump into a final commitment like that.

"I'm not sure," Harry repeated, "but it just seems weird the way he's always talking about how he'd like to get married one day and then he's out all the time in jewellery stores and such. I don't know what to think."

Hermione forged a smile. "Good for him," she said weakly. "Excuse me." She hurried up the stairs, ignoring Harry's calls. Rushing into the washroom, she slammed the door and pelted her fists against it, tears of rage and gloom pouring down her cheeks. She sobbed heavily, not sure what had brought this on. She knew she had been emotional lately but this was unreal. She didn't want to make any snap decisions but the same thing that she had relied on in their friendship for the past who knew how many years wasn't there anymore. They just weren't clicking as they used to. There was no denying it: they had grown apart. Maybe Harry had stayed more the same than anything but Hermione couldn't very well keep her friendship with Harry and tell Ron that they weren't clicking anymore.

Friendship was about being there for each other. And where had her friends been for the past three years? Where would Ron be Thursday night? Why did he have to choose this Abby over her? All of a sudden, she hated Ron, she hated Harry, she hated Abby, but most of all, she hated Draco and herself for putting herself in this mess. She hated the fact that Draco Malfoy, her once-sworn enemy, had become so charming. She hated the fact that he made her love him and she couldn't get out of it now, even if she wanted to. She hated the fact that Ron loved some other girl and not her. She hated that Harry was so serenely calm with everything, no matter how maddening or upsetting it was. She hated herself for falling into the trap of love and being ensnared by her pregnancy. But most of all, she hated life in general for dealing her such a hand.

After she had emptied her eyes of their tears, she took Harry's advice and lay down for a few hours. When she awoke, Draco was leaning over her. "Rise and shine," he said softly, moving out of the way so she could sit up and rub the sleep out of her eyes. "Supper's ready; I didn't know if you wanted to be woken or not."

"Is Ron here?"

Draco looked utterly perplexed by this question but answered with a nod of his head. "He was here when I got home."

Hermione noted the bitterness in his voice, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she climbed silently out of bed, accepted a gentle kiss from Draco and brushed her hair to suit her for the evening.

Downstairs, Ron and Harry were involved in a deep discussion at the table. They halted when Hermione entered, making her sarcastically wonder whom they were talking about. "You're back," she said blatantly to Ron as she took her seat.

"Yeah," he said, diving into his food. "I didn't want to stay out all day."

"Right." The acrimony in her voice must have been noticeable because even Draco looked somewhat confounded by her tone. She continued to ignore them, picking at the food. She kept one hand on her stomach, unaware that she was still feeling for the butterfly movements.

"Are you all packed for tomorrow?" Ron's voice broke through the strained silence and Hermione could practically hear Harry hit his forehead in annoyance. Why Ron chose that moment to break out with this comment, she would never know.

"Yeah," Harry said quickly. "So Hermione, how was work today? Is the Three Broomsticks still the same as I remember it?"

"Pretty much," Hermione answered, grateful for the change in subject. "The original owners left almost two years ago but the new owners decided to keep us on."

Harry nodded. "That's good. It's harder and harder to find a job these days."

Draco muttered something that sounded strangely like, "Maybe for you," but Hermione kicked him under the table and he coughed and took a drink of his water.

"I can't wait to get back," Ron chattered, ignorant to the fact that everyone around him was doing their best to steer the conversation away from that topic. "The store will probably be in disarray, even though I gave Abby specific instructions on how to run things."

"Abby?"

Ron looked at Hermione in confusion. "Yes, Abby. Didn't I tell you? She works for us, too!" His face looked bright but fell as Hermione's turned stony. "Is there a problem with that?"

"Nope," she answered shortly before pushing her chair back. "I'll be back," she practically whispered as she hurried away from the table. Out the back door she went and into the garden that she had worked so hard on in the past. Sitting hard on the small bench she had put there, she glanced around what used to be her pride and joy.

The flowers were wilting slowly and the grass was dying. Hermione imagined it to be very much like her friendship with Ron. She had put so much into it for so many years and this was how she got treated. It wasn't the fact that Ron was dating a girl so much as it was he was so eager to get away from Hermione, when he hadn't seen her in three years. It seemed almost futile at this point; their friendship was as good as over.

"Are you okay?" Harry's voice broke through the night. He sat down on the bench beside her.

She nodded miserably before breaking into tears and shaking her head. "Not exactly," she managed to choke out.

"Sorry about Ron," Harry said, gently touching her knee, "but you know how he is. Never thinks before he says things."

"No kidding."

They were silent for a few moments. Hermione felt extremely tired despite her few hours sleep prior to dinner. She yawned, her hand still unknowingly searching her stomach for any sign of movement.

"What?" She had just noticed Harry smiling softly at her.

"Can you feel anything?" he asked. Hermione looked down at her hand and smiled in spite of herself.

"Not really. Just a few fluttering moments. Want to feel?"

Harry nodded eagerly and placed his hand gently on Hermione's stomach. "You might not be able to feel it," she warned, pushing his hand into her middle. "You have to press hard."

"I don't want to hurt you or the baby!" Harry cried but Hermione shook her head.

"You won't."

They waited for several minutes in silence before Harry's face lit up. "I think I felt something!" he cried, pushing a bit harder. Suddenly he looked up, confusion filling his face.

"It's strange," he said slowly, withdrawing his hand. "You're sitting here, high in your mansion, as Mrs. Draco Malfoy."

"Yeah?" Hermione wasn't completely understanding the concept behind this abrupt comment. "So what?"

"Nothing really." He smiled again and Hermione saw a flicker of the old Harry Potter behind the glasses. "It's just that if anyone told me years ago that this was going to happen, I would have pronounced them crazy."

"I agree," Hermione said, laughing. "I've felt the same way. Some nights I wake up and stare into the darkness, almost panicking because I don't know where I am. Then I remember and it takes me a few minutes to recall why I'm married to Draco."

"Why are you married to him?" Harry asked, suddenly very serious. His eyes had lost their shine and he was staring at her intently.

"I don't know," Hermione replied honestly. "There's just something about him that's changed over the years. Something that I really can't explain." She looked Harry directly in the eye. "That doesn't mean that I've changed, though, has it?"

It was Harry's turn to be serious. "I don't know," he finally answered. "I really don't know."

He left soon after to go get some sleep but Hermione had the distinct feeling that he was thinking what she had been thinking; the three friends had drifted apart considerably. The question was, what to do about it?