Hermione woke to face an unusual problem indeed. The morning routine went
smoothly, as usual, until she began to tug her skirt on.
The fabric slid up her thighs in the normal fashion. Then trouble arose. She started to zip the side up absently when she was met with resistance. Her thoughts up to this point had been focused on her Magical History essay on Medusa Melhook, a famous sorceress. She had written it hastily the night before, having been distracted all weekend by either Ron or Harry.
Her daydreaming halted. She frowned and tugged again. It was no use. It wouldn't budge. She went to the full length mirror and scrutinized her body from a side view. Yes, it was finally happening. Her stomach was obtruding by several inches, far more than it ever had before.
She knew she shouldn't get emotional. She knew it was pointless. But that didn't stop her. She let out a sob, careful to keep it low because Lavender and Parvati will still getting ready. Crookshanks, who was sitting on her bed, let out a plaintive meow.
Hermione turned to give him a doe-eyed look. "Look, Crookshanks," she whispered, gesturing to her skirt. "I'm doomed."
Crookshanks meowed again, as if in reply.
Hermione acted as if he had actually spoken. "Yes, I know I never cared before!" she said defensively. She turned back to the mirror and let out a depressed sigh. "But this has never happened to me before."
Crookshanks let her know what he was thinking again.
She turned around and glared at him. "I didn't expect you to be so snooty!" she cried out, forgetting to keep her voice down.
Crookshanks stood up, offended. He brushed himself off, gave her a glare, and quickly darted out of the curtains surrounding her bed. Hermione watched him go angrily. That was fine with her. He was being a brat anyway.
Hermione went to her bedside and picked up her wand. She thumbed it thoughtfully, eyes watching her protruding stomach absently. She knew a spell or two that would fix this. They would work for the rest of the week, at least until Saturday when she could go shopping. She could also search through some of those fashion spell books Lavender was so fond of. Maybe they had some advice on how to permanently make her clothes bigger. At least until the baby was born.
Hermione's eyes widened as she thought this. It was no uncommon knowledge that she was pregnant. But looking down at her stomach, placing a hand on the hardened flesh, it suddenly seemed very real. Her heart began to beat wildly. How much longer did she have? She was five months along which meant . . . she had four months of this. She would only grow bigger. The baby would come closer. A fit of panic overtook her.
Hermione quickly muttered the charm that would stretch her skirt. She finished zipping it and grabbed her robe. Now it was necessary to wear it at all times. Until she could cast that unobtrusive spell that Dumbledore had taught her.
She flew out of her room as fast as lightning, forgetting to grab her school things. She went straight to Ginny's room. The other girls of her year weren't the least bit surprised at her presence. She slipped under the curtains around Ginny's bed and cast a silencing charm that would keep their conversation private.
"Is there something you need, Hermione?" Ginny asked as she finished with the tie all students were expected to wear. After six years of it, Ginny seemed to have forgotten to complain about it.
"What do I need?" Hermione demanded. "What I *need* is to be two, maybe three years older at the very least!"
Ginny turned around slowly. Hermione had been emotional lately, but never this much. "What do you mean?"
"What I *mean* is that I am only seventeen years old and I'm having a baby! For Merlin's sake! What am I going to do about this?" Hermione's voice continued to rise in shrillness. Her eyes were intense as she waited for Ginny's answer.
"You just now realized this?" Ginny asked carefully.
"I've known all along," Hermione said evenly. "But it didn't hit me until just now. My skirt has grown too small."
"Really, now?" Ginny's eyes brightened, amazed. "That's wonderful news, Hermione! Only a few months away now, then."
"I know!" Hermione said, voice low and fierce. "That's what I started thinking. I'm not nearly ready to do this now, Ginny. Before things seemed so easy. But . . . it's happening. In a few months, I'm going to have a baby. I don't know how to care for a baby! Ron and I haven't prepared for anything! He doesn't even have a job!"
"Isn't he going to the twins' this weekend?" Ginny pointed out. She went to Hermione and took the older girls' hands. "Hermione, you get like this just before every important test."
"That's what I need to do," Hermione said, brilliancy inspiring her. "I need more books to read. I haven't read nearly enough. More books will do it."
"Books aren't going to mean a thing when you have a living breathing human to care for," Ginny said wisely. "Why don't you write to your Mum?"
"No," Hermione said, eyes downcast. "Mum and I have been growing apart for seven years now. I could never talk to her about *this*."
"Then talk to my mum."
"Your mum?" Hermione said testily. She contemplated it. "She *has* been rather helpful. And she *did* raise seven children. Do you think she'd be willing to talk to me though?"
"Of course," Ginny reassured her. She squeezed Hermione's hands, then let go. "She thinks of you as her own daughter now."
Hermione smiled slowly. "Really?"
"Really." Ginny smiled crookedly. "Can't imagine why you'd *want* her though. She gets rather irksome after sixteen years."
"I'm going to write to her now," Hermione said solidly. "Thanks, Ginny."
"It's no problem," Ginny replied as Hermione quickly rushed out of her room. Ginny shook her head and smiled to herself. She removed the silencing charm and opened the curtains around her bed.
"Ginny?" Cressida asked, a sneer on her face.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "What do you want?"
"I just wanted to try and offer comfort for your *situation*," she said, eyeing Ginny's midriff with her last, emphasized word. "Especially with Malfoy being the . . . er . . . father."
"Yeah, yeah," Ginny said dismissively. "Thanks and all that." Before Cressida could reply, she left the room, grabbing her books off her nightstand first.
When she went down the stairs, the common room was empty. It was a bit depressing, but she quickly shook it off. She was fine. She didn't need anyone to wait for her. Though it would be nice, after all. She shook her head ruefully.
The walk to the Great Hall was punctuated by Ginny's thoughts, turning over every piece of homework she'd completed over the weekend, trying to make sure she'd done each of them correctly. She opened the door to where breakfast was taking place and walked straight to where Harry and Ron were sitting. Hermione must have gone up to her room to write.
"Morning," Ginny greeted, sitting down across from her brother and . . . er . . . *friend*. She grabbed a slice of toast and began to spread marmalade across it.
"Look at Malfoy," Ron said, snickering.
Ginny compliantly turned to look at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was sitting at the very edge of it, isolated, and eating his breakfast sullenly. She turned around, trying to conceal her smile. "It serves him right."
"People are talking to me again too," Harry said cheerfully.
"Several girls came up and apologized to him." Ron rolled his eyes. "Harry wasn't complaining of course. He seemed to enjoy the attention."
Ginny felt something akin to jealousy settle in the bottom of her stomach. "Really now?" she asked a little too casually. She bit fiercely into her toast, keeping her eyes down safely.
"I thought you'd gotten over that," Ron said, sounding disgusted. He stood up. "Is Hermione in the library? Why am I even asking?"
He started to leave, but Ginny stopped him with her voice. "She's not in the library as a matter of fact. She's up in her room writing to Mum."
Ron raised his eyebrows questioningly.
"I wouldn't bug her this morning," Ginny said wisely. "She's having a hard time."
"A hard time with *what*?" Ron asked, confused.
Ginny shrugged. "I don't know if it's my place to tell you."
"Of course it's your place. She's my bloody girlfriend. I have a right to know what's going on. Especially if it's about *the thing*." He looked around himself furtively, as if to make sure no one was listening.
"Is that how you're referring to it now?" Ginny bit out. She glared. "Just don't mess with Hermione, all right? If you're a good little boy, she'll probably tell you anyway. After she gets a reply from Mum."
Ron scoffed and stalked out of the Great Hall. Ginny shrugged, unconcerned, and turned back to eating.
"What was she upset about?" Harry asked, his quiet question intruding upon Ginny's thoughts.
She jumped slightly. She'd forgotten he was there. She looked up and met his eyes carefully, guardedly. "I'm only telling you and not Ron because he's a git and will do something stupid."
Harry nodded. "I understand," he said, a slight trace of a smirk on his features.
"It's stupid, really." Ginny leaned closer, trying to keep the conversation private. "Her skirt is too small, and she panicked."
"About that?" Harry looked at her quizzically. "What's so wrong with that?"
" *I* don't know," Ginny said defensively. "But Hermione about had a heart attack. She came barging into my room yelling about not being ready and about needing to read more books." At Harry's widened eyes, she added," She put up a silence charm first, don't worry."
Harry's worry turned to concern. "You don't think she's going to back out of this, do you?"
"No." Ginny shook her head. "I think it was a sort of wake up call though. We've all known that this was coming, but the reality hasn't really sunk in. In only about four months, we're going to have a *baby* on our hands."
Harry nodded. "I've known that."
Ginny shook her head. "No. I don't think any of us have really *known* it. Least of all Hermione. Maybe we'll realize all of this when the baby is born."
Harry looked even more confused.
Ginny sighed. "Just leave it be, Harry. I know what I'm talking about."
Harry smiled subtly. "Do you now?"
Ginny's eyes flashed. "Yes, I do, as a matter of fact. More than you'll ever know."
"Is it from those trashy romance novels you bury your nose in?" Harry asked.
Ginny wanted to laugh, but she was insulted. She stuck up her nose. "You'd never understand, Harry."
"I thought you said I was really a romantic at heart."
"Then you're a romantic who can't understand what being a romantic means."
Harry opened his mouth to reply, but he was interrupted.
"Take it back, Weasley," a chillingly cold, slimy voice commanded authoritively.
The Great Hall seemed to go silent. Everyone was watching the scene unfolding before them. Ginny turned around slowly. "What do you want, Malfoy?"
"I want you to take whatever you said back!" Malfoy repeated.
"You mean the rumors?" Ginny asked calmly. "I would have just told everyone the truth, but . . . well, they wouldn't believe me. Besides, it was more fun this way."
"Look," Malfoy grated out. "I know you're not . . . you know . . . pregnant and all. I'll gladly tell everyone if you just tell them that I didn't do anything!"
"You're telling them yourself, Malfoy," Ginny stated. "Everyone's listening to what you're saying."
Malfoy looked up. He glared angrily at Ginny. "Muggle-lover," he spat, unable to come up with anything better under the pressure. He turned around and practically stomped out of the room.
After a few minutes, the Great Hall filled with talking again, fueled by the scene they'd just borne witness to.
Ginny rolled her eyes and turned back to Harry. "This is possibly the worst thing that has ever happened to me."
"Aren't you glad they think it's Malfoy though?" Harry asked. He was playing with his food, appetite gone.
"You know I'm not. I just want everyone to shut up and mind their own business!" Ginny stood up defiantly and gathered her books.
"Don't leave, Gin," Harry pleaded. "It'll all blow over . . ."
"In four months? When Hermione has her baby?" She snorted. "That seems years away right now."
Harry knew that several people heard her comment, but he was too distracted to care. He thought he saw Ginny's eyes glistening with tears as she'd started to leave. He looked down at his food forcefully, telling himself in no uncertain terms that he shouldn't follow her.
* * * * *
AN: Thanks to Jo for beta-ing. I'm sorry it took so long. The next chapter is already at the beta's. Thank you for all of your reviews as well!
The fabric slid up her thighs in the normal fashion. Then trouble arose. She started to zip the side up absently when she was met with resistance. Her thoughts up to this point had been focused on her Magical History essay on Medusa Melhook, a famous sorceress. She had written it hastily the night before, having been distracted all weekend by either Ron or Harry.
Her daydreaming halted. She frowned and tugged again. It was no use. It wouldn't budge. She went to the full length mirror and scrutinized her body from a side view. Yes, it was finally happening. Her stomach was obtruding by several inches, far more than it ever had before.
She knew she shouldn't get emotional. She knew it was pointless. But that didn't stop her. She let out a sob, careful to keep it low because Lavender and Parvati will still getting ready. Crookshanks, who was sitting on her bed, let out a plaintive meow.
Hermione turned to give him a doe-eyed look. "Look, Crookshanks," she whispered, gesturing to her skirt. "I'm doomed."
Crookshanks meowed again, as if in reply.
Hermione acted as if he had actually spoken. "Yes, I know I never cared before!" she said defensively. She turned back to the mirror and let out a depressed sigh. "But this has never happened to me before."
Crookshanks let her know what he was thinking again.
She turned around and glared at him. "I didn't expect you to be so snooty!" she cried out, forgetting to keep her voice down.
Crookshanks stood up, offended. He brushed himself off, gave her a glare, and quickly darted out of the curtains surrounding her bed. Hermione watched him go angrily. That was fine with her. He was being a brat anyway.
Hermione went to her bedside and picked up her wand. She thumbed it thoughtfully, eyes watching her protruding stomach absently. She knew a spell or two that would fix this. They would work for the rest of the week, at least until Saturday when she could go shopping. She could also search through some of those fashion spell books Lavender was so fond of. Maybe they had some advice on how to permanently make her clothes bigger. At least until the baby was born.
Hermione's eyes widened as she thought this. It was no uncommon knowledge that she was pregnant. But looking down at her stomach, placing a hand on the hardened flesh, it suddenly seemed very real. Her heart began to beat wildly. How much longer did she have? She was five months along which meant . . . she had four months of this. She would only grow bigger. The baby would come closer. A fit of panic overtook her.
Hermione quickly muttered the charm that would stretch her skirt. She finished zipping it and grabbed her robe. Now it was necessary to wear it at all times. Until she could cast that unobtrusive spell that Dumbledore had taught her.
She flew out of her room as fast as lightning, forgetting to grab her school things. She went straight to Ginny's room. The other girls of her year weren't the least bit surprised at her presence. She slipped under the curtains around Ginny's bed and cast a silencing charm that would keep their conversation private.
"Is there something you need, Hermione?" Ginny asked as she finished with the tie all students were expected to wear. After six years of it, Ginny seemed to have forgotten to complain about it.
"What do I need?" Hermione demanded. "What I *need* is to be two, maybe three years older at the very least!"
Ginny turned around slowly. Hermione had been emotional lately, but never this much. "What do you mean?"
"What I *mean* is that I am only seventeen years old and I'm having a baby! For Merlin's sake! What am I going to do about this?" Hermione's voice continued to rise in shrillness. Her eyes were intense as she waited for Ginny's answer.
"You just now realized this?" Ginny asked carefully.
"I've known all along," Hermione said evenly. "But it didn't hit me until just now. My skirt has grown too small."
"Really, now?" Ginny's eyes brightened, amazed. "That's wonderful news, Hermione! Only a few months away now, then."
"I know!" Hermione said, voice low and fierce. "That's what I started thinking. I'm not nearly ready to do this now, Ginny. Before things seemed so easy. But . . . it's happening. In a few months, I'm going to have a baby. I don't know how to care for a baby! Ron and I haven't prepared for anything! He doesn't even have a job!"
"Isn't he going to the twins' this weekend?" Ginny pointed out. She went to Hermione and took the older girls' hands. "Hermione, you get like this just before every important test."
"That's what I need to do," Hermione said, brilliancy inspiring her. "I need more books to read. I haven't read nearly enough. More books will do it."
"Books aren't going to mean a thing when you have a living breathing human to care for," Ginny said wisely. "Why don't you write to your Mum?"
"No," Hermione said, eyes downcast. "Mum and I have been growing apart for seven years now. I could never talk to her about *this*."
"Then talk to my mum."
"Your mum?" Hermione said testily. She contemplated it. "She *has* been rather helpful. And she *did* raise seven children. Do you think she'd be willing to talk to me though?"
"Of course," Ginny reassured her. She squeezed Hermione's hands, then let go. "She thinks of you as her own daughter now."
Hermione smiled slowly. "Really?"
"Really." Ginny smiled crookedly. "Can't imagine why you'd *want* her though. She gets rather irksome after sixteen years."
"I'm going to write to her now," Hermione said solidly. "Thanks, Ginny."
"It's no problem," Ginny replied as Hermione quickly rushed out of her room. Ginny shook her head and smiled to herself. She removed the silencing charm and opened the curtains around her bed.
"Ginny?" Cressida asked, a sneer on her face.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "What do you want?"
"I just wanted to try and offer comfort for your *situation*," she said, eyeing Ginny's midriff with her last, emphasized word. "Especially with Malfoy being the . . . er . . . father."
"Yeah, yeah," Ginny said dismissively. "Thanks and all that." Before Cressida could reply, she left the room, grabbing her books off her nightstand first.
When she went down the stairs, the common room was empty. It was a bit depressing, but she quickly shook it off. She was fine. She didn't need anyone to wait for her. Though it would be nice, after all. She shook her head ruefully.
The walk to the Great Hall was punctuated by Ginny's thoughts, turning over every piece of homework she'd completed over the weekend, trying to make sure she'd done each of them correctly. She opened the door to where breakfast was taking place and walked straight to where Harry and Ron were sitting. Hermione must have gone up to her room to write.
"Morning," Ginny greeted, sitting down across from her brother and . . . er . . . *friend*. She grabbed a slice of toast and began to spread marmalade across it.
"Look at Malfoy," Ron said, snickering.
Ginny compliantly turned to look at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was sitting at the very edge of it, isolated, and eating his breakfast sullenly. She turned around, trying to conceal her smile. "It serves him right."
"People are talking to me again too," Harry said cheerfully.
"Several girls came up and apologized to him." Ron rolled his eyes. "Harry wasn't complaining of course. He seemed to enjoy the attention."
Ginny felt something akin to jealousy settle in the bottom of her stomach. "Really now?" she asked a little too casually. She bit fiercely into her toast, keeping her eyes down safely.
"I thought you'd gotten over that," Ron said, sounding disgusted. He stood up. "Is Hermione in the library? Why am I even asking?"
He started to leave, but Ginny stopped him with her voice. "She's not in the library as a matter of fact. She's up in her room writing to Mum."
Ron raised his eyebrows questioningly.
"I wouldn't bug her this morning," Ginny said wisely. "She's having a hard time."
"A hard time with *what*?" Ron asked, confused.
Ginny shrugged. "I don't know if it's my place to tell you."
"Of course it's your place. She's my bloody girlfriend. I have a right to know what's going on. Especially if it's about *the thing*." He looked around himself furtively, as if to make sure no one was listening.
"Is that how you're referring to it now?" Ginny bit out. She glared. "Just don't mess with Hermione, all right? If you're a good little boy, she'll probably tell you anyway. After she gets a reply from Mum."
Ron scoffed and stalked out of the Great Hall. Ginny shrugged, unconcerned, and turned back to eating.
"What was she upset about?" Harry asked, his quiet question intruding upon Ginny's thoughts.
She jumped slightly. She'd forgotten he was there. She looked up and met his eyes carefully, guardedly. "I'm only telling you and not Ron because he's a git and will do something stupid."
Harry nodded. "I understand," he said, a slight trace of a smirk on his features.
"It's stupid, really." Ginny leaned closer, trying to keep the conversation private. "Her skirt is too small, and she panicked."
"About that?" Harry looked at her quizzically. "What's so wrong with that?"
" *I* don't know," Ginny said defensively. "But Hermione about had a heart attack. She came barging into my room yelling about not being ready and about needing to read more books." At Harry's widened eyes, she added," She put up a silence charm first, don't worry."
Harry's worry turned to concern. "You don't think she's going to back out of this, do you?"
"No." Ginny shook her head. "I think it was a sort of wake up call though. We've all known that this was coming, but the reality hasn't really sunk in. In only about four months, we're going to have a *baby* on our hands."
Harry nodded. "I've known that."
Ginny shook her head. "No. I don't think any of us have really *known* it. Least of all Hermione. Maybe we'll realize all of this when the baby is born."
Harry looked even more confused.
Ginny sighed. "Just leave it be, Harry. I know what I'm talking about."
Harry smiled subtly. "Do you now?"
Ginny's eyes flashed. "Yes, I do, as a matter of fact. More than you'll ever know."
"Is it from those trashy romance novels you bury your nose in?" Harry asked.
Ginny wanted to laugh, but she was insulted. She stuck up her nose. "You'd never understand, Harry."
"I thought you said I was really a romantic at heart."
"Then you're a romantic who can't understand what being a romantic means."
Harry opened his mouth to reply, but he was interrupted.
"Take it back, Weasley," a chillingly cold, slimy voice commanded authoritively.
The Great Hall seemed to go silent. Everyone was watching the scene unfolding before them. Ginny turned around slowly. "What do you want, Malfoy?"
"I want you to take whatever you said back!" Malfoy repeated.
"You mean the rumors?" Ginny asked calmly. "I would have just told everyone the truth, but . . . well, they wouldn't believe me. Besides, it was more fun this way."
"Look," Malfoy grated out. "I know you're not . . . you know . . . pregnant and all. I'll gladly tell everyone if you just tell them that I didn't do anything!"
"You're telling them yourself, Malfoy," Ginny stated. "Everyone's listening to what you're saying."
Malfoy looked up. He glared angrily at Ginny. "Muggle-lover," he spat, unable to come up with anything better under the pressure. He turned around and practically stomped out of the room.
After a few minutes, the Great Hall filled with talking again, fueled by the scene they'd just borne witness to.
Ginny rolled her eyes and turned back to Harry. "This is possibly the worst thing that has ever happened to me."
"Aren't you glad they think it's Malfoy though?" Harry asked. He was playing with his food, appetite gone.
"You know I'm not. I just want everyone to shut up and mind their own business!" Ginny stood up defiantly and gathered her books.
"Don't leave, Gin," Harry pleaded. "It'll all blow over . . ."
"In four months? When Hermione has her baby?" She snorted. "That seems years away right now."
Harry knew that several people heard her comment, but he was too distracted to care. He thought he saw Ginny's eyes glistening with tears as she'd started to leave. He looked down at his food forcefully, telling himself in no uncertain terms that he shouldn't follow her.
* * * * *
AN: Thanks to Jo for beta-ing. I'm sorry it took so long. The next chapter is already at the beta's. Thank you for all of your reviews as well!